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lululandd · 11 months

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whiskey sour;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 1577

warnings: meet..cute(?)

note: my heart said angst but my brain said fluff, and i cant write without a brain so… (also on ao3)

summary: the man at the bar never talks. not to women hitting on him, not to the men squaring him up for fights.

You see him every weekend for 3 months straight, sitting at the same place, wearing some rotation of dark hoodies, and sporting some manly drink that seem like they taste as angry as he looks. You notice the only one he talks to is the bartender. And now you, apparently.

You trudged into the bar with a sour face and a sour mood and sat next to him, which you wouldn’t do if there was legitimately any other seat. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.” You pointed at his drink after getting the barkeep’s attention.

It surprised you when the drink came less than a third of the glass it came in. Did the bartender think you’re a pussy and gave you less? Whatever.

So you downed it in one go.

Horrible idea. It burned from your tongue down to your esophagus, and you coughed your lungs out for a solid minute while tears streamed down your face before the fire dissipates.

“You’re supposed to sip.” You heard someone mutter after your body stopped being dramatic over the drink.

Who the fuc—

“You savour it.” He chided. Oh, it’s the quiet man. So the reason no one talked to him is because he’s some kind of obnoxious fuck?

“No ‘you allright’ or ‘you okay’? Straight to the lecture?” You bit back. Fuck, you feel like purposefully bumping into him as you slid off your seat, but he’s built like a tank and you’re not going to test whether you’re wet noodle or wet tissue against him right now. You trudged out of the bar you entered not fifteen minutes ago, and out of anger you promise to never go back.

And by never you mean like two years. You’ve changed jobs, moved closer to work, and now you literally live above said bar you never wanna go back to.

Fuck.

A few weeks went by before seeing him again. Still sitting in the same place, still wearing dark hoodies, still staring daggers at everyone. You changed your mind on drinking that day, not when he’s around.

But the next day you weren’t so lucky. Thinking he wouldn’t be there—since it was a weekday—you plopped right in front of the barkeep and asked him about rumours and gossips of the week.

“Well, that hot widow I kinda fancy got a date yesterday, seemed like it went well.”

You rolled your eyes, “If only you asked her out first.”

He laughed as he slides you a glass of water. “Did that at a previous place, people think they get free drinks when they date a bartender.”

“Wait, you don’t?”

“Nah. I mean, I’ll give them some but lots take it too far and think they can order for a group.”

You scrunched you nose, “I think you just dated shit people, Sam.”

He scoffed, “Shut the fuck up.”

His attention was away from your a second and you decided to take a glance at who ordered. It’s him. You didn’t even notice when he came, to think someone his size would make a lot of noise when they walk. But you were too caught up in conversation, you guess.

When he got back he grabbed two glasses and filled it with a big ball of ice and poured very little of what you think was bourbon into the glasses. You had learnt a little here and there, since you do live above and spend some time with Sam on slow days. To your surprise he handed one to you.

You immediately looked towards the man’s direction and he waved his glass at you.

Oh no.

Taking a deep breath, you grab the glass and place yourself next to him.

“Allright?”

You sighed, “Yeah, don’t worry, I remember this is a sippy drink and not a gulpy drink.”

“Good.”

“Thanks, by the way.” You raised your glass and started sipping. You can’t hide your wince. This would definitely be a good if you were depressed or sad or trying to forget a horrible incident or getting over a breakup, but things are way too nice in your life for you to enjoy it properly. “Would you be offended if I asked the barkeep to make this into a whiskey sour?”

He answered by waving Sam down.

As your drinks slowly diminish, you learn exactly two things about him. His name is Simon and he likes dogs. The man dodged so many questions like Neo and those fucking bullets, and if Sam didn’t somehow made the previously godawful whiskey taste so goddamn tasty you would’ve probably gone upstairs and to bed by now.

But Simon is a good listener, so whenever you feel like having a drink, you sit next to him. It’s definitely a biased opinion, but you think it’s highly unfair that he is as funny as he is attractive. He’s cracking jokes as if his life depended on it, like an ugly kid that had to make his way through school being funny to avoid getting bullied. You also learnt one new thing about him, he has a friend called Soap. Of course you didn’t ask about him, because you know he doesn’t divulge any information, but it’s really funny that the other man calls him quite often lately and then hearing them bantering back and forth for a couple minutes before you can hear the scot on the other end of the phone yell something so scottish you couldn’t understand a word. For a little while you fall into this fun routine, until he stopped coming one day. You think nothing of it at first, like he is a grown man and he could have those seasonal jobs, but weeks turned to months and you miss your drinking buddy.

It was a rainy afternoon, and you opted to wait at the office an extra two hours for the rain to lighten up at least a little. Regret settled deep in your bones for rejecting so many ride home offers, as you wrung what you could of your wet clothes. Some fucker in a pickup truck thought it would be funny to drive at sixty by some puddles and splash everyone at the sidewalk. Everyone huddled under the same awning to try and clean themselves up and share their plight. After feeling dry enough, you started to head back when you heard your name being called by a familiar voice, and then a hand on your shoulder.

“You look like a wet rat.”

Fighting words. Those are fighting words. You did the one thing you know is appropriate for such a greeting.

You hugged him. Wet clothes and all.

He was tense for the duration of the hug, and ended it quickly with pats to your upper back. A wide smirk graced your face as you looked up at him, and you can immediately tell—albeit covered by a face mask—that he’s unhappy of the outcome.

“Hi.” You greeted, the smirk getting wider at his apparent annoyance.

“There’s a kebab place nearby. Let’s go.”

It was a seven minute walk, and you were glad the place he led you to was rather dirty, cramped, and two girls were doing their homework on a table at the back. The food will definitely be good. You looked around for a place to sit after telling him what you wanted. Scouting for a table with no food left, you stood near a family of four and waited for them to leave.

Simon came back with the food you ordered and some drinks you definitely didn’t tell him to get. But it was apparently some foreign soda that you’ve never seen, and you were happy to get to try it. Halfway through your meal someone clapped his shoulders and you swear he was about to stand up and do something until he saw the other man’s face.

The man with a mohawk started, “Who’s this, LT?”

Simon skipped too many beats to answer, and looking at his face, you swear he was legitimately about to throw down, so you did what you think would be natural at a time like this.

“Oh, uhh… I don’t know him, I just sat here because the place was full.”

He then introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Johnny. This here is my mate, Simon.”

“Piss off, Johnny.”

Johnny laughed, and when he went to the cashier you were afraid he would join you, but he said goodbye as soon as he got his order.

Both of you ate in silence for a bit. “So you don’t know me, huh?” He finally cracked, smiling at you.

Oh thank god, you thought he was mad, “Sorry, you looked really uncomfortable.”

“That bad?”

You slowly nodded, “Honestly, yeah. Scared you were gonna beat him up on the spot.”

“Nah.” He sipped on his soda, contemplating something. “Do that at work though, not here.”

You blinked. “You’re gonna beat him up.. At work?”

He raised his eyebrows as a confirmation, and you can see he’s not gonna elaborate.

Leaving the place, he walked you back to your place, under the guise of needing a drink after having such a ‘rough night’.

“Why?” You teased him as you two walked in, “Is it rough because now your friend thinks you like people that looks like a wet rat?”

“Nah. He already knows I do.”

“What?”

He doesn’t say anything else, but he did tell Sam to make two whiskey sours.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing #ngl there was supposed to be a line saying #‘yeah well you look like youd rather be circumcised for a 2nd time’#but someone (>:3) said brits dont get circumcisions so #that went out the window

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onesidedradiostatic · 2 months

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(“Oh shit my boyfriend is horny for some celibate guy” anon back again, I need to pick some emojis to sign with at some point if this keeps up lmao)

I see we’re going into the idea of Vox finding out Alastor is aroace, and this is well and good but consider as well: Alastor finding out that proposal to “join his team” wasn’t a business idea but instead he was asking Alastor to officially be his boyfriend. Except I’m less interested in his reaction (we all know he’s going to hate it, funny as it is it’s still predictable). Nah, what I want to see is just how obvious Vox has to get before Alastor finally figures it out. Now we’re measuring how oblivious the old man is. I doubt anything subtle would be enough. Does Vox have to say something? Probably with digital tears streaming down his face? Is someone else gonna tell him or does everyone else just keep their mouths shut either for the free entertainment or because this is like watching a train wreck happening in real time?

I kinda talked about it here

but I like the idea of either husk spilling it or alastor, if he could ever be bothered to, describing it and the rest of the hotel crew realises "oh. OH…" and they're just like "alastor, I don't think that was just any business proposal…" and alastor's just super confused???? and they have to say "I think he was trying to ask you OUT" and then there's just an entire minute of silence where alastor just stares blankly at them and then says "what"

there's also the potential of an actual confrontation from vox where he doesn't realise that alastor just straight up didn't realise it was a confession (in this scenario, he thinks alastor was purposefully vague about it in stayed gone as a small act of mercy) and so when he brings up legitimately thinking it was a business proposal, he's like YOU THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A BUSINESS PROPOSAL??? and alastor's like yes what else would it have been and vox gets too embarrassed to say it but IF he did then alastor would've said "oh I would've still said no" and literally nothing improves

#ask #osrs.txt #radiostatic #staticradio #<- one-sided #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox

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callsign-magnolia · 9 months

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Undiagnosed // Ch. 15

MATURE CONTENT 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents, smut.

Word Count: 6.4k

Chapter 14 | Masterlist

We rode to Bob’s house in silence. I looked out the window, tears streaming down my cheeks. He had to know what he said hurt, he had to. The way he kissed me last night, there was something there, I know it. Unless I was the only one that felt it. That thought alone made more tears stream down my cheeks. I managed to stop the tears a few minutes before we got to Bob’s place, I just hoped my cheeks weren’t red and splotchy. As we pulled in the driveway Bob stepped outside, smiling at us. I slid out before Jake even cut the truck off and walked up to Bob. I was a little surprised when he opened his arms for a hug but didn’t hesitate to step into them. He hugged me tightly as I squeezed him in return. “You okay?” He whispered and I pulled back, giving him a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He eyed me for a second before turning to Jake. “Finally willing to part with it are you?” Jake asked, looking at Bob with a smirk. “Yeah. At least it’ll be in good hands.” I furrowed my brows in confusion as Bob handed me some keys. “It was built in ‘01 and I've been the only person to own it.” He said pointing to an older truck that Jake was now leaning on. “Like it?” Jake asked and my brows shot up.

“Oh no! No, I can’t accept this.” I said as I handed the keys back to Bob. “Too bad,” Jake said as he walked over taking the keys himself. “It’s already paid for.” My jaw dropped and I gaped at him as he opened the drivers side door and climbed in. He started it up and the truck roared to life and he grinned. “It sounds great.” Jake said and slid out. “Well, go on. It’s yours.” I stared at him for a moment, challenging him but he had that stupid smug grin on his face and that just pissed me off even more. I snatched the keys from him, huffing before I climbed in. I sat down and looked to my right, scoffing. “If you’re such a genius, why did you buy a straight shift?” I asked and he raised a brow. “Do you not know how to drive a straight shift?” He asked. “My parents never taught me how to think for myself. What makes you think they taught me to drive a straight shift?” I snapped and he reeled back, looking at me confused. I know when we had our blow up when he came home, we talked about me getting angry with him but I think I have a legitimate reason.

“Well I can teach you.” Bob said and I sighed. “School starts in two weeks.” He nodded. “You’ll learn by then.” He responded. “Let’s take her for a drive.” Jake shut my door and he and Bob came around and slid across the bench seat from the passenger side. “I don’t know if this is gonna work.” I said and Jake chuckled. “I’ll help you. Now, the clutch is on the far left. I suggest only using your left foot on it and using your right between the gas and the brake.” I situated my feet as he said. “Okay, press the clutch and the brake.” I did and he took my hand, the warmth of it engulfing me. He set it on the gear shift, wrapping his around mine. “The reverse is gonna be in the bottom right. So, we gotta come out of neutral and move down.” He did and slid the gear over to the right. “There. This is reverse. So when you release the parking brake and back up, let off the break and slowly come off the clutch. Not too fast, you’re not going anywhere fast.” I nodded and brought my foot off the break, looking in all the mirrors before releasing the clutch. I backed out and hit the break and clutch. “Now into first.” I looked at the top of the gear shift and shifted myself, causing Jake to smile at me. “Now come off the clutch.” I did and the truck died. “What’d I do?” I panicked, worried I’d already messed it up. “I should’ve told you to not come off the clutch so fast. Let’s try again.” After a while I was able to make it down the road and back with little issue.

We got out and I sighed. “I just don’t know how I’m gonna learn in time for school.” I said and Bob chuckled, tossing his arm over my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you know.” Bob used to be so shy around me, but I came to find that once you got to know him he was as friendly as anyone else, funny too. “I have to buy scrubs and books for school by next Tuesday. If you have time then maybe you can teach me while we go do that?” I asked and he nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’m free Monday.” I smiled at him. “Great.” At my words Jake walked over, handing me his keys. “You take my truck and I’ll take yours?” He asked and I nodded. “YOu guys wanna go get dinner?” Bob asked and we shook our heads. “No, Katie said she was cooking tonight.” Jake motioned to me and I nodded. “Well maybe another night then.” Bob said and I was quick to agree. “Sure, maybe we can go on Tuesday after we get my stuff.” I said and he nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” Jake looked between us but I just pulled Bob in one final hug before heading to Jake’s truck. “See you at home.” I said, shutting the door as I adjusted the seat. I didn’t want to be near him right now. I needed distance. I backed out of Bob’s driveway and started for the house. I had tears streaming down my face again, and I was getting angry with myself.

Angry for letting myself feel things for him. I knew better, even though he kissed me, I shouldn’t have let myself feel these things. You’re hard to love. I decided to crank up the radio, hoping the rock music would drown out my mother’s voice. It was loud and I had the windows down as I coasted down the road. It was nice and by the time I got home, I felt a little better. I got inside and shut the door, deciding to preoccupy myself with dinner. I started on the asparagus and the potatoes, putting them on the same pan before seasoning them, when Jake came in. “So… what do you think?” He asked. “About the truck?” He nodded, looking nervous as he leaned on the doorframe. I put the pan in the oven and turned to him. “I think I’ll like it just fine when I learn to drive it.” He pursed his lips, nodding. “But I’m really grateful, Jake. You’ve done a lot for me and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you for any of it.” He gave me a smile. Not a smirk, a smile before walking closer and pulling me into a hug, which caught me off guard. “I don’t want you to repay it, Katie.”

I didn’t hug him back, just stepped away and started dinner. “I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.” I could tell he was looking at me, in what way, I didn’t know. I wasn’t turning around to find out. I heard him walk away and it’s like I could finally breathe. I hated all this. I should’ve known better than to kiss him. We live together and he just got out of a serious relationship. It was a stupid move and now I have to deal with the regret of it. Once dinner was ready, Jake set the table before I could and helped me put the food on the table. As soon as we started eating Jake moaned, the same way he did last night. “God! You’re such a good cook!” He exclaimed. I couldn’t help the small smile that came to my face at the compliment. “There’s that pretty smile.” He said, gently nudging my cheek. We went through most of dinner in silence and Jake cleaned up the kitchen while I retreated to my room. The only other time I came out was to shower and then I went back to my room, shutting the door. I read most of the night before drifting off with my book on my chest. Saturday and Sunday were rough. Jake was teaching me to drive the truck, and I was doing good at first but then we started on hills.

“DAMMIT!” I screamed in frustration. “What the fuck am I doing wrong?” I asked him just after I killed it for the eighth time. “Okay, deep breath.” He said and I turned on him. “Don’t tell me to take a deep fucking breath.” I snapped and he nodded. “It’s all about timing and it takes a while to get it. It took me months to learn.” He said and I groaned, leaning back on the bench seat. “I don’t have months to learn. I have two weeks!” He took a deep breath, releasing it through his nose. “I know that. That’s why I’m trying to teach you, but you can’t learn if every little things sets you off!” His voice grew louder and I sat quietly. I know he’s right, but it’s so hard. All this anger and frustration builds in me and I just explode. “Now one more time.” He said sternly. This time I gently pressed the gas, let the RPM’s get between two thousand and three thousand, then quickly downshifted. The truck took off and we finally made it up the hill. “Thank god.” I said as I took a left around the corner and went to pull into the driveway but Jake stopped me. “Again.” I could’ve cried. Needless to say, we didn’t get back up the hill again for a while.

I was thankful for Monday because Jake was gone all day at work and when he came home, he was exhausted, Mav worked them really hard. Then on Tuesday Bob showed up to go with me to get all my school stuff. I made my way for the door and just as I grabbed my purse I heard Jake from the kitchen. “Don’t forget this!” He said, coming over and handing me his credit card. “Oh, are you sure you just don’t wanna give me cash?” A set amount of money. “No, books may cost more than you anticipated and you may need more than two sets of scrubs.” He said, holding the silver card out to me. I looked up the books on the bookstore website and wrote down all the prices, so I knew what the total should be. “Jake-” “Take it. I’d feel better knowing you had it just in case.” He took my hand, laying the card in it and closing my fingers around it. I just huffed and agreed, grabbing my wallet from my purse and putting it inside. “When will you be back?” He asked as I opened the door, Bob standing against the porch railing. “Uh, I’m not sure.” I told him.

“Ready?” I asked, turning to Bob and he nodded. “I think I should be asking you that.” He said and I chuckled. “Yes.” We started for my truck and Jake called out to us. “Hey!” We turned towards him, his eyes shifting between us. “Go easy on her.” Anger flared inside me. I don’t need anyone going easy on me. “Sure thing.” Bob replied and we got in. As soon as both of our doors shut I turned to him. “I don’t-” “I don’t intend to go easy on you. Now, show me what you know so far.” With that I cranked the truck and backed out of the driveway. We started down the road, thankfully going the opposite direction of that damned hill. “You’re a little jerky, but I think you’re doing good so far. The longer you drive, the smoother you’ll get.” He said and it felt good to know that I didn’t completely suck so far. Once we hit the freeway it became easier, I didn’t have to shift as much and soon we arrived on campus. We walked into the bookstore and I sighed, feeling overwhelmed by everything. “You got a list?” Bob asked and I nodded, pulling it out of my purse and showing him.

“Which editions do you need?” He asked. I sighed. “Fuck. I didn’t think about different editions.” I muttered. “Let me pull up the email.” I said, digging out my phone. “You guys need any help?” A woman asked as she came over. “Uh, yeah.” Bob said. “First year nursing program.” She smiled and motioned us to follow her. We did as I still searched for the email before Bob waved a paper in my face. I leaned back, blinking a few times so my eyes could adjust. “List of books?” I asked. “Your books.” It had a picture of the covers and everything. “This makes everything so much easier.” I said. “Most of the books are over on the fifth aisle.” The lady said and I thanked her before we wandered over to the aisle. It was pretty easy to pick them all out and soon I had them all. “Do you need notebooks or anything?” He asked, motioning to the displays of pens, pencils and notebooks. “No, They’re more expensive here. I can go to Walmart and get them for super cheap.” We made it to the counter and all the books came out to the exact total I added it up to be. I checked out and we carried them out to the truck. “I hope you don’t have to carry all of these to school everyday.” Bob said and I shrugged. “Knowing my luck, I probably will.”

Once we left campus we headed for the scrub shop that was recommended. I was shocked to find it not busy when we walked in, just one woman at the counter and another sifting through the racks. “Is there a specific color you have to wear?” I nodded. “Royal Blue.” With that we spent an hour flipping through the racks, grabbing all different brands. Once I went to try them on, Bob sat outside waiting for me. It didn’t take too long and I left with four sets of the brightly colored scrubs. “That was more complicated than I thought it would be.” I said. We could only have a specific style of scrubs then I had to leave them with the shop owner so she could embroider the name of the school on the left breast so I only left with my pants. “Wanna get dinner?” Bob asked and I nodded. “Where?” “There’s this great diner over by base. Then when we’re done, we can go to Walmart and get some more of your supplies.” I nodded and we headed that way. We were almost there when we got to a hill. They aren’t a problem unless I have to stop, and this hill had a red light at the top. “Come on. Come on.” I whispered, hoping the light would stay green long enough for me to get through.

But it turned yellow and the car in front of me hit the brakes. “Dammit.” I muttered and Bob looked at me. “Trouble with hills?” I nodded. “I got it a few times but I mostly fail.” I was panicking because there were a bunch of cars behind me. There’s never anyone behind me on the hill in Jake’s neighborhood. What if I stall? “Don’t panic. Just watch the light.” I did as he said and as soon as it turned green, he spoke. “Hit the gas.” I did and as soon as the RPM’s were high enough I downshifted and we took off. “I did it!” I said loudly and he laughed at me. “See, just remain calm and it’ll all work out.” As soon as we topped the hill we pulled in the diner parking lot and got out. “So what’s going on with you and Jake? You seemed… off when you came to get the truck.” He said as we sat down. “It’s a long boring story.” I replied, not really wanting to talk about it. Just the thought irritated me. Of him just deciding to take it all back. “What’d he do?” He raised a brow at me. “What makes you think it’s something he did?” I asked.

“It’s Bagman. He always does something.” He replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “He kissed me.” I muttered. But he heard me, his eyes widening. “He did what?” He asked and I nodded. “When I found out that I got into the nursing program. Or really, I kissed him but he’s the one that kept doing it. We were intoxicated and he said we should wait till we’re sober. But the next day he came in saying we should just forget about it. Pretend it never happened.” My gaze dropped to my lap as Bob sighed. “Katie. I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “Don’t be. I should’ve known better. Just because he’s nice to me, doesn't mean he has feelings.” I responded. “You’re right about that in general. But I think you’re wrong about him.” He said. “Oh, don’t you start too! Apparently after Bradley’s birthday party he talked to Jake the next morning and insinuated that he had feelings for me, which Jake denied.” Bob chuckled. “You know why he called Rooster?” He asked and I shook my head. “He was jealous.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Jake does not have feelings for me!” I exclaimed. “He ditched his girlfriend-” “We made plans prior to his date.” I cut him off. “She told him if he left, it was over. He didn’t think twice. Got up, took her flowers and went back to you.” I looked at him stunned.

“Those were her flowers?” I asked quietly and he nodded. “He said he snatched them right off the table.” I sat back in the booth. “I don’t know if I should be offended. Being given another girls flowers.” I muttered. “He literally snatched them from her. I’d say be flattered.” Bob said and I sighed. “Can we not talk about this anymore?” I asked and he nodded. “I still don’t think he has feelings for me anymore.” I told him and he smiled at me. “You’re wrong.” He said, turning his head down to look at the menu. We ate and then went to Walmart, getting more supplies before he took me back to Jake’s. “I can’t believe you tripped over your own feet!” Bob chuckled as we walked in. “I’m clumsy!” I responded with a laugh. I had tripped in Walmart and fell flat on the floor. “You’re usually in heels and walk fine!” I huffed, setting the bags on the table as Jake came out. “Look. I am vertically challenged in flat shoes!” He laughed loudly at my words and even Jake smiled. “Have fun?” He asked and I nodded. “We did. We got all the things I needed, had dinner and then we got more school supplies from Walmart!” I said as I pulled out a notebook. He nodded. “How do you feel about the truck?” He asked. “I’m still not great but I’m feeling more confident about it now.” He nodded with a small smile. “Do you need anything else for school?” He asked, looking at the pack of highlighters I got. “Uh yeah, I need a bag, stethoscope, and they suggested a good water bottle.” I said and he chuckled. “You’ll probably be too busy to actually stop and drink something.” He took the list from me, looking it over. “You’re gonna need a laptop.” He said and I shook my head. “I’ll get on just fine without one.” I told him.

I spent the next two weeks getting everything ready. Natasha bought me a brand new backpack, light gray and it had plenty of room for all my stuff. Bradley even bought me a lunch box, saying tha hospital food is gross and I’d be better off taking my own food. The night before my first day I made sure to do things like shower early. That way I had plenty of time to read and wind down for bed. I was about to lay down when Jake yelled for me. I walked downstairs and he smiled at me. “I don’t like that look on your face.” I told him and he motioned me closer. “Come ‘ere. I got you a few things.” I stepped closer and he handed me a long box. I had a feeling I knew what it was, so I ripped the paper off and opened the box. Inside was a Tiffany blue stethoscope. I gasped as I pulled it out, admiring it. “This is gorgeous!” He smiled at me, grabbing the chest piece. “And look.” He turned it a few times then handed it to me. There was an engraving on it. My name, between two hearts. “Oh, Jake.”

It was a whisper but I stared down at the gift, my heart thudding in my chest. It was such a small gesture but it meant so much. “You like it?” He asked and I nodded, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you.” I whispered in his ear. He squeezed me tightly before letting go. “I have one more gift for you.” He motioned to the box on the table. I smiled, grabbing the paper and ripping it off, my face falling when I saw what was in it. “Jake. I told you I would make do without a laptop.” I told him and he sighed. “I know. But it will make school easier on you.” I shook my head. “You can take it back.” He shook his head. “No.” I wanted to scream at him, throw something. “Yes!” “Why?” He demanded. “You have let me live in your home! You bought me a phone, books, clothes, a fucking truck!” I yelled at him. “And what have I done? Eat your food-” “Make meals when I’m exhausted. I’ve had more time to do what I want because you constantly clean even though you don’t have to. You keep me from getting lonely. Katie, I told you I didn’t want you paying me back.”

“It’s not a matter of if you want me to or not. It’s the fact that I feel like I’m freeloading off you. Jake, you’ve spent thousands of dollars on me! I would’ve been just fine taking a bus or hell, walking even.” He just smiled at me and I wanted to smack him. “I wanted to spend that money.” He said. “Where the hell are you getting all this money anyway? Money you can just throw away? The navy doesn’t pay you that much.” He just chuckled. “Darlin’, I’m a fighter pilot. I make more money than you think. Besides, I’m good with money. I put back a lot.” “YOUR SAVINGS?! JAKE! Don’t spend your savings on me!” He just chuckled again and I was starting to hate the sound. “Didn’t make a dent in it, darlin’.” He kissed my head and walked upstairs to go to bed. I groaned, setting the half unwrapped box back on the table and followed. He went into his room and I went into mine. I had to calm down, get a good night's sleep. So I curled up in bed with my book, reading till my eyes drooped and after a few minutes of fighting sleep to finish the chapter I put the book down. I rolled over, facing the window, the moonlight streaming in as I finally drifted off.

By the time I woke up the next morning, Jake was gone. Which I was grateful for. I was already stressed and I didn’t need him asking questions or telling me to calm down. Once I did my hair and makeup, I slipped into my scrubs. They were more comfortable than I expected. I put my tennis shoes on, tying them before grabbing my already packed bag and heading downstairs. I made my coffee, filled the giant water bottle I bought. I should have plenty for the day. I tossed my lunch into my lunchbox and went to grab my bag. I saw the laptop sitting on the table, unwrapped, with a sticky note on top. ‘Charged and ready for your day. Please take it.’ I wasn’t going to, but I caved. It could make school easier so I grabbed it, placing it into the pocket of my backpack and grabbed my truck keys. I was practically shaking as I drove to school, but thankfully keeping both hands busy made it easier.

I walked into class half an hour early. There were two other girls in there and I made my way to the front, taking my seat. I pulled out my notebooks, pens, pencils and highlighters, setting everything up. Then I pulled out the laptop, turning it on. I got the basics set up on it with my email just as someone sat next to me. “Boy am I glad there was one more seat up here.” The girl to my left said. I just smiled at her, feeling even more nervous now. Once it was set up I put it away and pulled out the folder that had stuff like the syllabus in it. “I like those highlighters. Where’d you get them?” She asked and I looked at her, following her pen that was pointing at the pack of pastel highlighters. “Uh, walmart.” I said quietly, looking down at my notebook. “I’m Brook.” She held out her hand and I gently took it. “Katie.” She smiled at me and opened her mouth to speak when a voice from behind us spoke up. “Good morning ladies!” A chipper voice spoke up and as I looked around, I realized this class was in fact, all women. The blonde woman took her spot up front at a tall desk with a monitor on it. “I am Rebecca Ford. I have a masters in nursing education but before that my focus was on Orthopaedics. You can call me Mrs. Ford, Rebecca, but most students just call me Becca. In this class you’ll be learning the basics. Your professors will rotate out of the room, it’s easier than dragging you from one room to the next. This orientation will last two weeks and you will start your clinicals in October. While you are in orientation, you will be in scrubs. When you go to clinicals, you will be in scrubs. But after orientation, when you have class you can wear whatever you like, as long as it is appropriate. I don’t want another two-thousand-eight bikini case.” We all chuckled and she grinned. “Kid you not. We had a girl come in wearing a bikini, no cover-up all because she was going on a boat after class. Shorts, tank tops, crop tops it doesn’t matter. I just don’t want to see boobs or ass.” With that she kicked off the class and I struggled to keep up in my notes and by the end of the day my hand ached.

I drove home, flexing my hand but feeling good. I missed a few things in my notes but Brook said she’d take pictures of hers and send them to me. I walked into the house and Jake immediately rushed over to me. “So? How’d it go?” He asked and I bumped into the wall. “Woah! Ease up!”He immediately back up, taking my bag. “It was good. A lot of information but I got most of it.” I told him as he set my bag on the table. “You think you’re gonna like it?” I nodded. “I really do. I’m gonna go change out of these scrubs.” I rushed upstairs, slipping on some shorts and the sweatshirt Jake gave me. “Got any homework?” I nodded. “Yeah. A lot of intro stuff but I can do it pretty quick.” I told him and he nodded. “Want me to start dinner?” He asked and I nodded. That sandwich I had earlier barely held me over till I got home. Thankfully we have a break area with a microwave so I can heat up leftovers. So tomorrow I won’t be so hungry. I did the online homework given to us then I reorganized my notes with the ones Brook sent me. “Make any friends?” He asked as he set the plate of hot food in front of me. “This one girl, Brook. I don’t know about friends, but she’s already sent me her notes because I missed some. So I think she’ll be a big help.” He nodded. “Maybe you can record your lectures on your phone. That way if you miss anything you can go back and listen. Plus hearing it over and over will help you to remember it” I nodded, shoving broccoli into my mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat so fast.”

“I’m hungry!” I said. “That sandwich wasn’t much.” He chuckled. “Well we’ll make sure you have plenty of food tomorrow.” And he did. I sat down with Brook and another girl, Annie outside and they gaped when I opened the container holding my food. “Did you make that?” Brook asked as we sat on the grass. “Uh, no. Jake did.” I said, taking a bite. “Ooh, whose Jake? You’re boyfriend?” She wasn’t teasing, but she seemed genuinely interested. But her question reminded me how I needed to keep my feelings guarded. “Uh, no. He’s uh… he’s a roommate.” I said. “But you have feelings for him.” Brook and I both looked at Annie who had a look of indifference on her face. “No.” I said quickly. “Yes you do.” I opened my mouth to snap at her but she cut me off. “Katie. I’ve been in your exact situation before. I lived with a guy who I had deep feelings for. In the end, I got my heart broken. Just be careful.” I shook my head. “Jake wouldn’t hurt me.” That was a lie. He already did by telling me to forget about our night of kissing. “He probably wouldn’t on purpose. But you may tell him and he may think he’s letting you down easy. But it still hurts.”

Annie’s words sat with me all week. So much that they’ve distracted me in class. I’ve been coming home every night, listening to the lectures again and reorganizing my notes. I was sitting on my bed, laptop open, papers spread everywhere as a knock sounded from my door. I looked up to see Jake leaning on the doorframe. “Hey.” I muttered. “Hi.” He said, walking closer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work so hard. Never for your law classes.” I nodded. “Because I actually want this.” He nodded, looking around. “Did you… need something?” I asked, finally looking up at him. “Oh, uh… I did have a question.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay. What is it?” I didn’t have time for a run around. I have to know this stuff, our first exam is slowly creeping closer. “There’s a… naval ball coming up.” I nodded, half listening as I read over my notes. “I was wondering if you’d go with me?” My head snapped up to him. “Absolutely not.” I said and stood from my bed. “Stand in the same building as my father? No thank you! In case you’ve forgotten, if he so much as sees me he’ll pull some shit.” He held his hands out, palms up as if to say, ‘there’s more’. “But that’s the beautiful thing. You’re father has a meeting with the other admirals that evening and it could go on for hours.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “He could still show up. Plus I don’t wanna deal with Coop. He’ll tell my father I’m with you and so could anyone else.” He shook his head. “Everyone is sure you left of your own free will. No one is looking for you and Mav banned Coop and Richardson from attending.” I shook my head, sitting back down. “I’m still not going.” He sighed, looking down at me. “Well, it’s in three weeks if you change your mind.” I hummed, highlighting some things as he walked away. This was good. Even if I thought it was safe this would keep the distance I needed to get over my feelings for him.

That Saturday I went over to Bradley’s, him and Natasha eager to hear about my first week of class. “You think you’re gonna do well?” Bradley asked as he sipped the wine Natasha brought. I nodded. “If I can stop having distractions I will.” Nat raised a brow. “Distractions?” I nodded. “Jake asked me to go with him to that fucking ball.” I said, irritation growing in me. “Your father won’t be there.” Bradley said and I nodded. “I know. That’s not the only reason.” I told him. “Then what is?” I sighed, debating on telling them. “Is it the kiss?” My head snapped to Nat. “You know?!” I asked and she nodded. “He was all giddy the next morning. Talking about how great he felt and what happened.” My eyebrows shot up. “Then why did he tell me that we just needed to pretend it never happened and forget about it?” They both sat up straight. “He what?” Bradley asked. “Yeah. Came in from work and it was the first thing he said to me.” Bradley groaned, falling back into the couch. “What a dumbass.” Nat nodded. “He really is.” She sighed. “He probably said that because when he was going on about it, I told him he needed to make sure he wasn’t using you to get over Kelly. I wanted to make sure he didn’t drag your heart through the mud to make himself feel better. Not that he would hurt you on purpose, I don’t think he’d realize it.” Bradley nodded. “The man is oblivious.”

“So you’re telling me that he didn’t regret it?” I asked and Nat shook her head. “Oh I doubt he regrets it. He probably just wanted to make sure he wasn’t gonna hurt you.” Bradley nodded again. “You could go home and kiss him right now and I bet he wouldn’t resist.” Throughout the night Bradley’s words rang in my head and when I got home I sauntered up to the front door. I was warm and everything was fuzzy, even with my glasses. I probably shouldn’t have driven and I realized that as I leaned against the wall in the entryway. I hung my purse up but stopped when I heard something from the living room. “Fuck.” It was a breathy moan. I peaked around the corner, half expecting to see Kelly. But I was shocked to find Jake alone, shirtless, boxers pulled down as he pumped his thick cock. I squeezed my thighs, excitement pooling in my belly. My panties were damp almost instantly at the thought of him between my legs. “Katie.” He moaned. Right now, I wanted the heavy weight of his cock on my tongue.

I stepped out from around the corner and watched him for a moment. He was slowly pumping himself, as if to drag out his high. I took three slow steps forward before he looked at me and jumped. “Katie!” He looked like a deer in headlights as I walked closer. “I-I uh-I don’t-what are you doing?” I was standing before him before I kneeled down on my knees before him. He stared at me in shock. “You fantasize about me between your legs. I fantasize about your cock on my tongue.” Before he could do anything I reached forward, taking him in my hand. He was large, a prominent vein running down the underside. I stroked him a few times before leaning forward, resting the swollen head against my tongue. He was like velvet, smooth as I wrapped my lips around him. “Katie.” He moaned, hand resting on my cheek as I looked up at him through my lashes. “Are you sure?” My only response was taking him deeper in my mouth. I slowly took him deeper until he nudged the back of my throat and I gagged. Jake’s hand disappeared into my hair and I used my hand to pump the rest of him. “God. How are you so good at this?” He asked and I pulled back. “I read a lot.” I held my tongue out, letting saliva fall onto his cock before I took him back into my mouth.

I hollowed my cheeks and he thrust into my mouth, hardly able to contain himself. “Darlin’. You feel so good around me.” He moaned and I had to admit, most girls complain about blowjobs but I’m thoroughly enjoying it. I took the plunge and buried my face in his pelvis, deep throating him as I nuzzled the short hairs at the base of his cock. I reached up, cupping his balls and he jumped. “I’m about to cum down your throat if you don’t stop.” I smirked to myself and swallowed, throat constricting around him and he groaned, gripping my hair a little tighter. “Do it again.” It was a growl and I happily did it again. I bobbed him in and out of my mouth, the noises coming from me were pornographic and obscene but his moaning grew louder and his grip on my hair tightened. “Take me so well. You like sucking on my cock?” I pulled him out to the tip and nodded before burying my face in his pelvis again and swallowing. “Fuck!” Without warning hot spurts of cum hit the back of my throat. I pulled him out, letting it shoot out onto my tongue. His body was tense and my nails dug into his thighs. Once I was done, I pulled back, holding out my tongue for him to see his load before swallowing. “Katie, I-” I cut him off by wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss, licking into his mouth and allowing him to taste himself on my tongue. I let him go, room spinning as I stood straight. “Goodnight Lieutenant.” With that I walked away, stumbling up the steps and falling face first onto my bed where I fell asleep without changing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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hopepaigeturner · 23 days

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How would you like the writer of Bridgerton to write Bath scene in AOFAG if s4 is going to be Benedicts season

For the most patient nonny who must have waited atleast a year for me to answer this. I present...

An Offer From An Avid Reader: The Bath Scene.

That's right, it's finally here. All 4000 words of it.

NOTE: I do not write smut, however this has some heavy implications of sexy shenanigans so I am rating this a 15+

Right, let's get to it.

✨The Context✨

This is not necessarily a scene, but more the 'bath sequence' as I shall call it for there are some humorous asides that add to the bathroom scene itself.

Also, as in the books, this scene takes place after the jail scene, but there are a couple tweaks:

The bath scene takes place at Bridgerton House not at Benedict’s bachelor lodgings. It takes place in a bathroom that is connected to two rooms that used to be Eloise’s and Francesca’s shared bathroom.

My jail-break scene is split into two so it’s not an info dump. So what’s happened is all the elements of the jail scene: Benophie reunites, the impromptu proposal, Posy swooping in and saving everyone while the magistrate slowly loses the will to live…But no Violet vs. Araminta showdown. Araminta hasn’t been blackmailed—sorry persuaded—to keep Sophie’s heritage a secret or announce her as legitimate.

Therefore, Benophie are still headed towards their original destination—living a modest life after being cast out by polite society, due to the indecency of Sophie’s heritage.

Finally, pre-jail scene, the last scene Benophie would have been in together was the sofa scene (read part 1 here, and part 2 here). They literally haven’t talked since then other than Benedict sending Sophie a letter she never read.

Hence this scene is still romantic, and will get steamy, but also a lot of unresolved conflict will be sorted out. And starting out both Ben and Sophie haven’t really been able to calm down over the last two days…

✨The Scene✨

Kate is the one who finally shoos everyone out of the bathroom after noticing how Sophie is utterly overwhelmed.

Sophie finally shuts the doors and rests her head on them. The viewer sees unshed tears in her eyes as the emotions of the last couple hours—and even the last few days—threaten to burst out of her.

Then she hears a knock from the other side of the bathroom.

“Sophie?”

Sophie almost seems to collapse in relief, instantly drawn to the other side of the bathroom.

“Benedict?”

“I am here.” The camera switches to the other side of the door, where Benedict stands. Benedict puts a hand on the wood. “I do not need to come in, but I just…” he puts his head on the door.

The camera shows both sides of the door, Benophie pressed up against each side in mirror positions--a slab of wood preventing them from resting their foreheads on each other. Just as they were at the end of the sofa scene.

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe…that you were…” Benedict’s voice catches on the thousand scenarios still reeling in his head, “that you were here.”

“I am here.”

“I know. I know.” Ben’s smile is small but fleeting. He takes a shuddering breath. “I shall leave you and give you some peace—”

“Please do not leave me,” Sophie says her voice small, but sure. “Please come in.” And with that she unlocks the door.

Benedict stares at the door. A door that Sophie has chosen to unlock—for him.

With reverence, he walks in to find Sophie some paces away, her dressing gown clutched around her.

For a moment they stare, then they soften. And then there is a blur and they are in each other’s arms, tears streaming down both their faces. With Benedict buried in the crook of her shoulder crying.

“I am so sorry, I am so sorry.”

They separate slightly, foreheads pressed together, eyes still closed.

“No, I should be the one apologising…”

“No, no I must apologise.” Benedict says, his voice clogged with unshed tears, “I told you that I would protect you, I promised to keep you safe and I could not, she…she could have…” he shudders, “I am so sorry.”

“Benedict, Benedict, no.” Sophie cradles his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “You came back for me, you rescued me.”

Benedict shakes his head,

“Posy was far more significant in that matter.”

“That is not what I meant.” Sophie takes his hand and places it on her heart. “You saved me here. Your love…your words…your deeds helped me.”

Sophie herself shudders as she recounts,

“Before you arrived, Araminta found me, and she taunted me with all her usual tricks and barbs that she has inflicted upon me since I was a child. And in the past, they have worked…you see, for my entire life, all those who were supposed to love me, would always step away: my father, Araminta and my stepsisters. And I would try so, so hard, but all I seemed to do was make people miserable and I think…” Sophie’s voice becomes clogged, but she continues, “I think I started to believe a long, long time ago that I could not be worthy of love, that I did not…that such things could not be for someone like me.”

“That is not true—”

Sophie puts her fingers on his lips and Benedict stills.

“I am coming to understand that. I am starting to believe so…and part of that is because of you.”

Benedict shakes his head emphatically, Sophie smiles.

“I said part, not the whole. What you did, as you do for so many others, is help me unveil the truth within myself. And the truth within myself is that…” Sophie smiles brilliantly, “I am more than a bastard. I am a woman with convictions. I am a woman who is kind regardless of the consequences or my past. I am a dear friend and confidante. And I am loved. I am loved by Ginny and your sisters and Kate and your mother and the servants like Mrs Gibbons and you…I am loved by you.

You, who has never stepped away from me but always embraced me. You, who loved me in a silver dress and then again in a maid’s uniform. You, who still rushed into a prison even after my cowardice spurned you so deeply. So, when Araminta lashed me with those old insults and barbs, I saw them clearly for the first time—as lies—just as I saw myself as clearly as well. I am Sophia Maria Beckett, the woman who loves and the woman who is loved. And your words helped me come to that conclusion, even if they were only one piece of the puzzle. So, there is no need to apologise, only for you to receive my gratitude and my love.”

She continues to smile, while Benedict gapes.

“You are a marvel,” Benedict breathes, eyes filled with wonder. “And there are so many reasons why I love you. But one of the things I love best, is that you know yourself. You have principles, you have spirit and a strength that is ever so rare.” He touches her delicately, not because she is so brittle that she will break, but because she is the most precious of jewels, “I am sorry for asking you to be my mistress.”

“You have already apologised.”

“Not truly, nor sincerely.”

“And what else was a man of your position to do?”

“While that may be true it was not fair, especially when I was so pig headed at hearing your refusal. You were correct, I was ignorant of our positions. I would die before sharing you, so why should I have expected you to share me when I was forced to marry?”

“In a perfect world we could have married, we could have just been Sophie and Benedict. But in this world men like you do not marry—”

“None of what I said weeks ago, in my lodgings, have changed. I do not care that we cannot live in London, I do not care what Lady Penwood might spread or what doors are barred to us. Over these past days, these past weeks, the conviction that first whispered on my heart has been carved deeper and deeper; that when I think about what I need in my life—not want but need—all I think of is you. Only you, it always has and will always be, you.”

It is Sophie’s turn to stare, her eyes widening to drink in a new expanse of emotion, just as her heart tries to hold the enormity of his words. But his words are like monsoon rain on parched land, and so, her eyes water.

Benedict softly wipes the tears away and Sophie can smile.

“Such sentiment explains your little announcement.”

“I know I was presumptuous in the jail, and you deserve much more—”

“Benedict—” She holds his face, “I wish to marry you also. I love you, only you.”

Benedict’s breath hitches, before he sweeps her in his arms.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, so, so much,” he cries as Sophie giggles in his arms. “You make me the happiest man alive.”

Benedict surges up and kisses her and with a final spin they return to the ground. Although they stay clasped together, rocking in the momentum of that joy, the surety of their love finally realised. Benedict buries his nose in the crook of her shoulder, inhaling the presence of her. And as he inhales, his nose scrunches…

“Sophie, I love you,”

“Mhmm.”

“But you do smell.” He whispers, kissing her cheek. Sophie pulls away and sniffs her shoulder.

“Oh gosh, I do! Well, that is what sleeping on the floor for two days does for you.”

At his stricken face she says, a little quieter,

“One day we shall laugh about it.”

“But not quite yet,” Benedict replies softly.

“Not quite yet.” She kisses him softly before extracting herself, looking over to the bath. “Oh, there are bubbles!” she turns to him with a childish awe, “I have never had a bath with bubbles before.”

Benedict smiles. They will probably never joke about her past—but he could ensure that the rest of her life would be full of laughter and love.

Sophie goes up to the bath, her hands fiddling with the tie of the dressing gown. Benedict turns away.

“That is very gallant of you.”

“I am a gentleman.”

“I would not mind; you are to be my husband after all.”

Benedict scrunches his eyes shut and almost groans, his resistance waning. Perhaps the audience might see him mouthing:

You are a gentleman. You are a gentleman.

“This is my mother’s house,” he manages to choke out.

“As you desire.”

He hears the thump of the dressing gown, the ripple of her limbs entering the water and he bites his lips to keep himself in check. But, he cannot restrain his eyes from wandering over his shoulder…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I am glad that all is well,” Kate sighs, resting on Anthony as they stand with the rest of the family in Bridgerton House’s parlour.

“Yes, Sophie is safe,” Anthony replies, fingers idly tracing up and down Kate’s spine. “And they shall be happily married,” he acknowledges Kate’s raised eyebrow. “With the family’s blessing and my own. But we must prepare for the oncoming storm. I doubt Lady Penwood is a woman who enjoys being thwarted nor hesitates from ensuring she has the final word.”

“There must be some way to mitigate the damage…” Kate falls silent for a moment. Then she perks up, her eyes sparkling, “I have an idea—I must go talk to your mother.” She kisses his cheek and rushes over to Violet. Anthony watches on baffled, as his mother and wife start a hushed, but fervent, conversation. In curiosity he walks closer.

Just then a maid, Nadia, enters the room with a gown. Only then does Kate break from the conversation to nod at the dress.

“Very good, Nadia. Take it up to the Lady Francesca’s old room, for Miss Beckett is bathing in the rose bathroom.” The maid curtsies then exits.

“The rose bathroom?” Violet asks, brow furrowed. “Not the jasmine bedroom? Is that not our best spare room?”

“No, Anthony directed the servants to ready a bath in the rose bathroom for some reason…” Kate trails off, then turns to her husband. “Anthony, why did you not send the servants to the jasmine bedroom?”

Anthony gulps.

“I just…it was the first thought in my head,” he rambles.

“And why should Sophie be relegated to the opposite wing of the house?” Eloise pipes up. “She is to be family; it makes perfect sense for her to be in the family wing. I do not mind sharing the bathroom once more, after all, Frannie and I managed for years.”

His mother turns to Anthony with accusatory eyes. A look that was always followed by an admonishing ‘Anthony!’ ever since he could reach his father’s knee. Anthony swallows thickly.

“Come to think of it--where is Benedict?” Colin asks, sharing a conspirators look with his wife.

“I sent him to rest. He has not slept these last two days,” Anthony tries to ignore how pitchy his voice sounds.

“Anthony!” His mother cries.

“Ah a wise decision. I am sure, Benedict is in need of some…relaxation.”

“Colin Bridgerton!” Violet cries.

“All I am saying is that after everything, the poor pair deserve a little…release.” Colin shrugs, getting a muffled scoff from Penelope whose eyes are alit with delight.

“Oh, I cannot believe you all,” Their mother grouses, pulling up her gloves as if going into battle. Indeed, she starts to stalk out of the room.

Thankfully, Kate arrests her before she can exit.

“Violet, you must allow it, just this once.”

“What exactly is happening? Do I need to go and check on Sophie?” Eloise cries, standing to attention.

“There is no use. Knowing Benedict, it would be unwise to appear unannounced,” Colin continues, Penelope barely able to hide her giggles behind her teacup. “Goodness knows what position they shall be in.”

Penelope spits out her tea.

“Colin Bridgerton!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sophie blows softly, and the pile of bubbles in her hand disperses into the air.

“Lean forward, please.” She obeys and allows Benedict to rinse the rest of the soap off her back. Then she hums as his hands start massaging her shoulders.

“Hmmm, this feels wonderful.”

“I am glad. Can I wash your hair?”

“Ofcourse.”

“Dunk please.”

Sophie obeys, eyes shutting, body loosening. She lifts up and Benedict starts to create a lather of soap in her hair, the movement of his hands hypnotic. All adding to the gentle, warm lull of the atmosphere. Sophie takes a sniff of her hair.

“Better than lake water?” Benedict asks with a grin, recalling that day on the lake all those months ago.

“Absolutely—lavender, pretty.” Sophie grins up at him, before dunking her hair and washing the soap from it.

"Your hair used to be longer," Benedict muses, hands running through the wet strands. Sophie closes her eyes and tips her head back into his touch.

"It was, but I had to sell it to a wigmaker."

Benedict's hands retreat. Sophie lifts her head up--slightly bewildered--until Benedict gently turns her face to him, staring deep into her eyes.

"You will want for nothing," Benedict says, as solemn as a vow, and Sophie's throat burns with emotion. Her hand reaches out to trace the curve of his cheek, her own words just as weighty,

"As long as I have you, I will want for nothing."

“You have me, heart and soul.”

“As you have me, heart and soul.”

The solemnity warms until they are smiling sweetly at one another, Sophie gently leans in and kisses him.

“Are you sure you do not wish to get in?”

“Absolutely not, I am quite enjoying myself here.” Benedict grins then returns to his prior position, “I like pampering you.” At this he starts massaging her again, causing Sophie to moan slightly.

“You must be careful, Mr Bridgerton, otherwise I might want such treatment every night of our marriage.”

“And I would gladly do so. But is there anything else you want Mrs Bridgerton?”

“What else could I want? What else could we want?”

“Well…I want to spend an afternoon by a lake. You would be reading, I would be sketching, and whenever we got too warm we would slip into the water to cool off.” His voice pitches low, “then I would carry you from the water and make love to you on the shore.”

Sophie tries to swallow her flush,

“You have given this a lot of thought.”

“I have had a thousand nights of dreams about my Lady in Silver,” he kisses one shoulder, “and Sophie Beckett,” he kisses the other shoulder.

Sophie’s breath catches, her eyes fixed in the distance—as if looking at a shimmering future that she can finally believe is no longer a mirage.

“Tell me more,” she whispers, hoarsely.

“I want to hold your hand in the street and in church, and in the market, where I buy you pretty ribbons for your hair. I want to bring you breakfast in bed.”

“Misshapen eggs?”

Benedict chuckles,

“Misshapen eggs and all.” He replies, then turns a little more solemn, eyes lost in the future he paints with his words,

“I want to go on rambling walks where the conversation never ends. I want us to come home to our little cottage or flat or whatever home we can afford, and dance together in our kitchen,” he swallows thickly, “I want to hold you as the embers die down in the fireplace, and I want to wake up next to you every morning even when we’re grey or we only have a couple moments before our children jump on the bed. I want to love you more and more every day and take care of you and give you anything you want.” His hands tremble with emotion, like his voice. “That is what I want…So, what is it you want?” he kisses below her ear, looking at her.

Sophie’s eyes shiver in the silence, she plays with some errant bubbles floating in the water.

“You have such a way with words and I…” her voice dies down, “it has been a long time since I have been allowed to want, let alone been asked.”

Benedict’s eyes soften with understanding. Gently he tilts her chin up.

“It does not need to be much or many, just whatever is on your heart.”

Sophie lingers in the sincerity of his eyes, far more powerful orators than his beautiful poetry. So, haltingly, she starts,

“I want to be loved. I want to love…I want to wake up in your arms every morning with the knowledge that I am safe. I want to laugh. I want to be held and comforted no matter how violent the storm. I want our children to be smothered in love and never know what it is to be hungry or cold or unwanted. I want to be by your side as your talent grows and love you through all manner of strife. I want a life with you by my side, whether we live in a palace or a poorhouse. I just want you.”

Benedict swoops down for a plundering kiss that spins the world around them. When they break Benedict whispers,

“I will give you all of it.” His voice rumbles against her lips. “You deserve the world, my goddess, my Queen.”

“I do not want the world; I just want Benedict.”

He moans at that, and they kiss once more, Sophie lifting herself out of the bathtub to gain purchase. Both are gasping when they part, and the words fall out of Sophie’s mouth.

“I want you to join me.”

Benedict's eyes darken, his smirk widening as he stands and turns away to strip.

"I would like to watch".

Benedict looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. Sophie swallows, then stares him down with a burning intensity that is starting to settle in her stomach.

"I want to watch you."

So, he turns, and slowly unbuttons his shirt, basking in Sophie’s lascivious gaze as he moves to snapping off his breeches before unthreading the buttons of his breeches. Before the final button he looks at Sophie for permission, she nods.

Then he is bare, and her breath hitches.

“I assume this is the first one you have seen?”

Sophie nods mutely.

“The first you will touch?”

She nods.

“The first you will take?”

Sophie nods, eyes wide.

“As long as it will fit.”

Benedict kisses her gently, and ensures she looks him in the eye when he says,

“You lead, I follow. Whatever you want, whenever you want, at your pace. But I can promise,” a kiss on her jaw. “that on our wedding night,” a kiss on the corner of her mouth, “I will be gentle, so all you feel is exceptional.” Another kiss that turns molten all too quickly. “Now, what is it you want?”

“For the final time, for you to get in the bloody bath,” she huffs, trying to pull him in. He chuckles then climbs in, sitting behind her, pressing themselves against each other.

Sophie’s breath hitches.

“Better?” he whispers.

“Much.”

He turns her chin, so they look at one another. His eyes are blown wide and so startingly blue that they transfix her. Benedict nods.

Sophie raises a hand to link it with one of his. Then, still staring deeply in his eyes, she traces their hands over her body until it cups her breast.

“I want you here.”

He squeezes and she gasps.

“Yes?”

She reaches back once more, for the final hand, lacing their fingers together.

“And I want,” she trails their clasped hands over her stomach until it dips under the water, “you here,” she gasps, eyes drowning in Benedict’s blue ones, as he starts his ministrations.

Yet they do not stop staring, not even when they kiss...

Not as Sophie writhes more and more in his arms, nor as Benedict’s hips start to buck. Even as Sophie turns around to straddle him, they keep their eyes locked together. Even as Sophie braces one hand on his shoulder, the other sinking below to find him in the soapy water. Even when their kisses turn messy and open-mouthed.

“I want you,” Benedict pants as they both start to reach their peak, “I want all of you.”

“I want all of you,” Sophie keens. “And you have me, all of me.”

“And you have me, all of me,” he whispers. “You are mine and I am yours.”

Finally, her eyes close as she shudders from the climax. Benedict surges up and smothers his own releasing moan with her lips.

The water settles, as the couple settle—even though they can barely control their panting breaths or racing heartbeats.

“God, I cannot wait to marry you,” Benedict mumbles.

“How long must we wait?”

“A few weeks—three at the least.”

“So long?” Sophie huffs. Benedict chuckles. “Then I suppose we shall have to make do with moments like this,” Sophie leans forward with a spark in her eye, “I am sure there is much, much more I can learn…”

Benedict leans forward also, a rakish smirk on his face.

“What a wonderful idea Mrs—"

Someone hammers on the door.

“Sophie!”

Benedict and Sophie snap up, eyes wide.

“S—t.” Sophie swears.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Eloise, please—”

Eloise rips away from Kate’s arm to wiggle the lock.

“I must ensure that my brother is not befouling Sophie!” she cries. With a final click, and one final kick, Eloise bangs the door open and strides in.

“Eloise, what on earth?” Sophie asks from the bathtub, where she sits—alone. Eloise strides further into the room, scouting around the furniture, even behind the bath.

“Eloise!” Sophie sinks deeper into the bath.

“I am looking for my infuriating brother! In case he has invaded your personal space!”

“As opposed to you who entered my private space uninvited.”

Eloise stops short, her cheeks flushing.

“Well, I…”

“Eloise, you are being rash,” Kate soothes pulling Eloise back to the door. “You must learn to ignore Colin—he was merely winding you and your mother up.”

Eloise pouts, hands on her hips.

“Well, Sophie, if my brother dares to act in any ungentlemanly way towards you, you must tell me then I can give him a stern talking to.”

Sophie smiles.

“That is very sweet Eloise. I shall endeavour to do so in the future.”

“I am sure Sophie will,” Kate says with a smile. Behind Eloise’s back, Sophie notices Kate push Benedict’s errant waistcoat under a footstool with her foot.

Eloise leaves with a final nod. Kate follows behind and gives Sophie a wink. Sophie turns bright red.

Once alone, Sophie deflates and sinks under the water in relief.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The camera turns to an empty bedroom—the same bedroom Benedict had frequented before entering the bathroom. All is still.

Then the window slowly judders up and open. One boot drops to the ground, then another. Finally, Benedict clumsily manoeuvres himself from window into the room—sockless, shirt open and braces swinging around his hips.

Once safely inside he silently closes the window and picks up his belongings. Just as he is to leave, he gives a fond smile towards the bathroom door.

Someone clears their throat.

Benedict looks up, like a rabbit in front of a rifle.

His mother leans against the bedroom door, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Benedict has the sense to look sheepish.

“You have precisely less than a minute to rush into another room and avoid Eloise’s wrath. I shall talk to both you and your brother later,” is all she says.

“Yes, mother,” Benedict starts walking out, avoiding her eye. Just as he passes her, she puts a hand on her shoulder.

“And Benedict,” He turns to find her hard stare. “While the revelations of the past days might have set our world in a tailspin, it does not alter the matter that Sophie is a lady and should be treated as such. Do you understand me?”

“Yes mother.”

Violet narrows her eyes. Benedict gives a tentative smile. Violet breaks and rolls her eyes. “Off you go—shoo.”

She shoos him away, and Benedict obeys—with a quick kiss on her cheek and a smirk on his face.

*~*~~*~*~*~*~~*

Hee hee.

What do you think?

As always, I’d love to hear your ideas/corrections/opinions and always open to chat or requests. So...

Check out the list here, for more of my ideas on S4.

Check out the general arcs of my prospective S4 here.

Or message/reblog/reply to this :)

#benophie #an offer from an avid reader #soap #suds...#and meddling siblings 😉#bath scene #little spice #sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton #featuring #colin--meddlesome--bridgerton #anthony--I cannot lie--bridgerton #penelope--I live for the drama--feathrington #and an honoury #kate--benophie stan--sharma #hope answers #an offer from a gentleman #what on earth happened to these tags?

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closetsof-backlogged-dreams · 2 months

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a Mai-Azula-Ty Lee analysis bc i have Many feelings

so this is definitely super random for my blog, but i just rewatched the boiling rock (bc ofc i did lmao) and i've been obsessed w this quote since like age ten, but it just hit different this time around and i feel the need to share:

"You miscalculated. I love Zuko more than I fear you."

so. here's the thing. this quote is objectively insane for a million reasons, but i want to talk about some of the parallels we can pull from it bc imo it makes it so. much. WORSE.

"No, you miscalculated! You should have feared me more!"

here comes the main theme of this post: fear, juxtaposed with love.

i do genuinely believe that Azula loved Mai and Ty Lee. not in the way typical friends love one another, because Azula is not a typical person who learned to love in a typical way, but love nonetheless.

(we can trace this back to her relationship with her father VS her relationship with her mother. Azula had a very distinctive way of looking at her childhood: she was her father's daughter, and Zuko was her mother's son. while we never saw Azula's reaction to his banishment, whether it was positive or negative, this surely cemented this idea for her. once their mother was gone, her father had no use for him. but of course he still had use for her—he loved her.

and if her father loved her, in a father-daughter relationship fueled by fear and intimidation, and her mother didn't, in a mother-daughter relationship that wasn't, what do you think she learned of love? but we'll bring this idea back later.)

she loved them, and she trusted them, and they betrayed her.

but before i really dig into the quote, i want to go over this love-fear juxtaposition, because it is a common theme throughout her character arc as she spirals further and further.

this scene is set after the betrayal, and the fact that they brought in a hallucination of her mother is very, very important.

once again, these opposing feelings of fear and love are brought back again. before, i said that Ursa and Azula's relationship wasn't fueled by fear. but is that true? Azula says very clearly here that her mother fears her and thinks that she's a monster. And this hallucination of her mother, a figment of all her worst fears and regrets and internal conflicts, brings up Mai and Ty Lee.

And then:

Even you fear me. No. I love you, Azula. I do.

"even you fear me" "no. i love you"? this is so, so crucial to what we know about Azula and her perception of love. she views love and fear to be very closely linked, even intertwined, not something to be separated in such a way.

even you fear me — but do you love me? i don't know if you do. but you fearing me does not stop you from loving me. they are not separate entities. i do not know how to be loved if i am not feared.

no. i love you — you are my daughter. i do not fear you. i love you. they can be separate. i love you without fearing you. no, i do not fear you. i love you.

and this is Azula's breaking point. tears stream down her face and she shatters the mirror. this separation of fear and love—it's too much. she doesn't know how to handle it. she knows fear without love, but she does not know love without fear.

her relationship with Zuko is another prime example. i fully believe that Azula loved her brother, or at least cared for him in some capacity. you see it in scenes such as these:

she had no reasonable ulterior motive here. she genuinely was trying to help him and look after him—but he's also afraid of her. he's afraid of what she might do or what she wants from him, even if in this particular scene that fear is unnecessary.

even when she recruited Ty Lee, she used fear to get Ty Lee to join her:

Ty Lee is legitimately happy to see Azula, but you can see the fear on her face when she turns down Azula's offer to search for the Avatar. and then, you can see that fear again when Azula tells her she'll be attending her show. and of course, Azula sets the net on fire, and Ty Lee ends up accepting Azula's offer.

i do believe Ty Lee and Azula had genuine love for one another, but Azula just never knew how to have that love without the fear.

and finally, we come back to the quote.

I love Zuko more than I fear you. / You should've feared me more.

or: I love Zuko more than I love you. / You should've loved me more.

the use of the word "miscalculated" fits perfectly here. everyone adores Azula. she's the prodigy, the crown princess, the Fire Nation's darling. no one is supposed to love Zuko. Zuko is the failure, the banished prince, their nation's greatest shame.

you miscalculated. you were supposed to love me. you were my friend. you were my ally. i trusted you. i made you fear me. you were supposed to love me. no one loves Zuko. everyone loves me.

you miscalculated. love doesn't work like that. love doesn't come with fear. fear chases love away. you made me fear you. you made me hate you. i chose Zuko, because you don't know how to love.

and it all always comes back to Zuko, doesn't it?

but i'm yours. Zuko was mother's, and mother is long gone, and see, Zuko was a traitor. Zuko was nothing. you treated Zuko terribly because Zuko wasn't yours. but i am. i am your daughter. i am your prodigy. i am your princess. i am your heir. how dare you treat me like him. like nothing. how dare you.

i also believe that this was the true final blow that sent her spiraling into her downfall. she's extremely vulnerable here: her two most trusted friends and allies have just betrayed her, and here it is, another betrayal. where she is usually cool and collected, she is snappy and hot-headed, here.

his betrayal is quickly and immediately rectified when he informs her she will become the new Firelord. see, she's not like Zuko. Zuko is banished with no crown and no legacy. she is different. she is her father's child. Zuko is her mother's. she gets the throne. he gets nothing.

but Mai still chose Zuko. and she was absolutely furious, of course, but even this she could still handle. it's what happens after that she can't.

The thing I don't understand is why. Why would you do it?

why would you choose him? why would you choose Zuko? only one person ever chose Zuko: Mother. but she doesn't matter. she's gone. but why. why. (why do they keep choosing Zuko?)

and then, probably my favorite shot in the entire series:

Ty Lee looks at Mai, then Azula. it's barely a second long, but it speaks volumes. she's making a decision. Mai, or Azula? Mai, or Azula?

throughout our time with Ozai's Angels, it's obvious that Ty Lee is Azula's right hand woman. she goes with her everywhere. even in this scene, Ty Lee is right next to Azula the whole time.

and Mai chose Zuko. Mai chose Zuko. she says that "I love Zuko more than I love you" and she should've loved her more, and so now Azula is going to kill her. she's about to summon her lightning, and—

so Ty Lee chose Mai. and Mai chose Zuko. and her mother chose Zuko. and Azula chose her father and her nation and her ambition, and she thought her father chose her, and he did, he did.

thing about Azula: she loves. she loves Zuko, and she loves Ty Lee, and she loves Mai. but she doesn't prioritize her love the way Zuko does. her love comes last. her father comes before her love. before her father, her nation. but before all of that, her ambition.

for her ambition to ever come to fruition, she needs fear, doesn't she?

and Zuko fears her.

so she wins. right?

wrong.

she loses.

she gave up everything, absolutely everything, and she. still. loses. to fucking Zuko.

he won their mother's love. he won Mai. he, indirectly, won Ty Lee. and now he won the crown, her crown.

Azula, born lucky, born a prodigy, never wins.

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greenleaf777 · 1 year

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youtube

This video is the funniest interview I have ever seen in my life….whoever hasn’t experienced this please I NEED you to watch it. The Crows cast is literally LITERALLY perfect to play their characters I swear. I am legitimately crying with laughter…tears streaming down my face. And I usually hate thirst tweets.

#six of crows #shadow and bone #kanej #wesper #helnik #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #nina zenik #matthias helvar #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #crooked kingdom #Youtube

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pancake-breakfast · 9 months

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It might be a bit of a stretch for me to finish Volume 7 before the clock hits midnight on Sunday, but hey, I'll give it a shot.

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for TriMax Vol. 7, Chapters 3-4 below.

Chapter 3: King of Loneliness

CW: Body Horror

You know, as much as I want to say this title absolutely, most definitely applies to Vash, it might apply to Wolfwood. Or to Knives. At least Vash and Wolfwood have friends along the way. At least they have each other.

Dude. Conrad opposed the experiments? Maybe I was being too harsh with him in my last notes.

It can be hard to know when to have difficult conversations like this with kids. I'm sure that was only further complicated by them being hyper-intelligent, extra-powerful plant babies. But kids are often better at understanding these things than we think they are.

Well, at least Knives admits he's putting up a face here. And he's still young enough that Rem can peel it off. I'm glad he got to cry to her, even for a bit. Even if he rejects her comfort on the very next page and puts the mask right back on.

Now he's starting to look more like the Knives we know.

Ohhh, now he's straight up looking like the Knives in Vash's memories.

They do look pretty happy here, though. I mean, they even fall asleep all next to each other.

Ugh, Baby Knives is not doing well.

He looks too much like Adult Knives here. It's uncanny.

Face stained with blood and tears and twisted in fear, and then blackness. Great composition.

And there he is, celebrating his victory, the ships raining down around like falling stars.

Vash calls him out, but Knives isn't anywhere near ready to admit the truth of his statement. Ironically, he's to scared to admit he's scared.

"This is not fear. This is anger." Ohhhhh, man. I could go on about that from my own experience. Let's just say that a lot of times, those who have spent a lot of time afraid learn to mask it as anger, since anger allows a level of action that fear often does not.

Oooh, she's got some mandible action going on here. Also, not sure, but I don't think she's quite happy about this situation....

Stuff going fwakoom?

Betcha Bagworm Legato is super-jealous of Elandira's ability to run to Knives' side right now.

Alright, that looks both very cool and very uncomfortable. Like, physically, it looks like it would at least be awkward, if not painful.

Oh, yeah. Plant girl isn't happy about this at all. That is not a happy face. But since when has Knives cared about someone else's happiness compared to his own purposes? It's... it's been a long, long time.

He has a double angel arm now? Cool, cool. I'm sure that won't be a problem or anything....

Yeah, definitely thinking the chapter title is referring to Knives at this point.

Chapter 4: Bastards and the Blues

This cover picture of Knives is somehow simultaneously slutty and immensely disturbing.

Ha! It's the rubber band scene! Vash needs this.

Look at that. It's an old-timey mob, here for an old-timey hangin'.

Awww, I know we've just met him, but I feel like Hancock really doesn't deserve all this.

As if there was any doubt what Vash would do in this situation.

Ok, so... I could be wrong here, but this all feels off. Vash is doing Vash things, but he seems waaaaaay too openly depressed while doing them. It's like he's doing them because Wolfwood is standing there expecting him to do them. He's going through the motions (which, to be fair, is a legitimate tactic to get through depression for some), but his heart isn't in it.

Yyyyyeah, hearing people scream about his inhumanity is probably not gonna help things.

At... at least he made two friends out of it? At least this time everyone backed down immediately? But Vash doesn't want people to live in fear of him like that.

Wolfwood playing lookout at the door.

If these guys turn out to be serial rapist baby snatchers or something, I'm going to burn down this whole manga. Vash needs a break. It doesn't need to be a big one.

Gods, his fake smiles are baaaaad here. He's not even trying to hide. He's just smiling 'cause he doesn't know what else to do.

Not sure how I feel about Vash getting drunk again, even if there's a spirit of camaraderie in this instance. I feel like Wolfwood, the actual heavy drinker here, feels the same. It's notable he's staying dry for this one.

Granny here seems chill. Like she's seen enough things in her life to no longer have time for anything but kindness, even if the best she can do is the small kindness of booze.

OMG GENUINE WOLFWOOD PEACEFUL SMILE I SHALL TREASURE IT FOREVER

Actually, these seem like good people for Vash to talk to right now. Sure, neither of them leveled a city (probably), but One-Eye at least has a deep understanding of what it is to be haunted by deep regrets.

WHYYYYY is the alcohol called Blades?!?!

But... Vash doesn't want to be alone. And neither does this guy, for that matter, or he wouldn't have Handcock around. And Vash... he may be running and sad and hiding... but he's not alone this time, either.

Ugh, drunk and depressed Vash is in no shape to fight.

Wolfwood might be indulging a bit now, but he knows he's the designated driver here, and he's being careful enough to make sure he can keep an eye on Vash.

I like how the tails on Vash's jacket get longer when Nightow wants them to look particularly dramatic. These are beautiful, but if they were actually that long, he'd be tripping over them as they dragged through the sand.

Also, flashy light is probably Bad.

Guess they're screwed.

The loss of communication would be really bad. It's always bad in times of conflict. Quick and reliable (or even semi-reliable) communication can win wars... and here I'm guessing Knives decided to take the upper hand for his first declaration of open conflict.

Yyyyyeeeeeaaaahhhh, Knives, honey, that doesn't look healthy....

What's that, Elandira? Were you secretly kinda hoping you'd somehow make it all the way through Knives' pending genocide?

Man, Vash sure can sober up fast.

There we go. Babygirl does genuinely look better here. Like, he's still sad, but he's not lying. He's genuinely grateful for this.

Good, I'm glad they got a bit of a break.

Archive

Trigun Vol. 1: Covers + 1-3, 4, 5-6, 7-8, 9-10 || Vol. 2: Covers + Extras, 1, 2-4, 5-6, 7-8

TriMax Vol. 1: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 2: Covers + 1, 2-4, 5, 6-7 || Vol. 3: Covers + 1-3, 4-5, 6-7 || Vol. 4: Covers + 1-2, 3-5, 6-7 || Vol. 5: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 6: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 7: Covers + 1-2

Extra Credit: Trigun Vol. 1: Nebraska vs. Vash's Motivations, Vash's Loneliness, Vash's Depression (pt 2 of post), Soupy Brains || Vol. 2: Coin Factoids || TriMax Vol. 1: Lina, Vash, and a Haircut || Meryl, Vash, and the Pursuit of Happiness || Vol. 5: Knives, Vash, and Hatred for Humanity || Vol. 6: Coping Series: Wolfwood, Meryl, Vash

#trigunbookclub #trigun maximum #volume 7 #pancake thoughts

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defountaine · 6 months

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so. 4.2 thoughts ! spoilers and such.

i had fun, but at the same time... bleh. the way things went wasn't very... pleasing. furina being treated the way she was felt very... fucked. i also don't like the whole "she's not the archon teehee" thing either because in a way... she kind of is? i'm not saying she's divine or godly, but due to how she was created... she kind of is.

anyways! problems!

i understand why things happened the way they did, but the harassment of furina made me so... blehhh. like, i get it. the people of poisson have every right to be pissed. however. even with the assumption of her being godly and divine, what exactly could she have done in that situation differently? hydro is her domain, certainly, but primordial seawater ( to be shortened to psw in any further mentions ) doesn't seem to play into that at all. and then the little... magic box trick. the deception there rubs the wrong way especially considering she was on the brink of being vulnerable. i wouldn't fucking trust traveler after that, and i would probably even be wary of neuvillette too because god. damn. furina being vulnerable with someone is probably 100 times harder now because of that. awesome.

the trial itself was fucked, too. the psw thing... good fucking god. desperate times call for desperate measures, sure, but that sort of thing would've gotten her killed if it were the proper dose. archon or not, i imagine. it simply says fontainians are affected. furina, being the archon, would still be fontainian. her sitting and weeping on her thrown doesn't mean anything, especially since traveler originally thought panel three was panel four. in panel three, furina is in water surrounded by her people and iirc paimon or someone says something about how the archon eventually returns to water herself. forgive me if this is wrong, but if it isn't... what the hell????

and then the way everyone was shocked that she actually risked it. what did they expect. honest to god, what did they expect? for her to confess after knowing how long she's been committed?

and then the big reveal. the way she broke down in tears, begging and pleading for the people to listen to her and believe her. when that happened, i audibly said to myself "if i were furina, i would kms in front of everyone" because holyyyyy shit is that fucked up. being looked at as a liar and a fake by thousands upon thousands of your subjects would be horrid enough, but then feeling like the nation and people you've love with your whole being will be destroyed because you couldn't keep the mask up? oh, that's soul crushing. the way she didn't even argue with the death sentence and sat there, tears streaming down her face. the way she thought everything was lost until she went outside and saw everyone was still alive... god.

tldr: furina is in the trauma nexus.

i also legitimately think furina is the archon. she is, in a sense, focalors' human half/vassal. that woman is the archon, and i kind of don't care what mhy thinks...?

i also dislike how she was brushed to the side after realizing everyone was alive and how we don't see her in the main story again. i don't think she should've resigned, but i understand why the choice was made given her whole thing. i think it would've been nice to see how furina would be if she could actually be herself rather than the facade she wore.

i liked some of it, and maybe i'm just biased, but furina.... ough.... my boyfailure, my cringe girl... she went through a lot.

happy to hear anyone else's thoughts and sorry for excessive cursing, i just have Strong feelings!

#and so the curtain falls. / ooc.#irrelevant //

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kitten4sannie · 1 year

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trying to gather my mf marbles rn bc the matz paradigm concept photos made me LOSE THEM 🙃 they both have such intense stares like I Am Unable to make eye contact with hwa's photo;; also conjuring up how i can make these photos into my vamp hc because that is all i'm good for (how i look rn)

-vamp anon currently spiraling into the abyss

FR i was STUNNED like my jaw was actually on the floor when i first saw those pictures esp hongjoong’s like that look in his eye?? and seonghwa is looking directly into my soul like how am i supposed to be ok after that?? 😭 and that pic of charlie is killing me i feel that in my soul cuz i’ve been obsessing over vampteez this whole time 😔✊🏼 thank you for sending me another lovely ask! it brings me a lot of joy 🖤

here’s a little vamp matz brain rot:

oof i just know they would have a really hot dynamic when they’re spending time with one of their playthings 🤤 i feel like they would like to watch you struggle, like their favorite thing would be to see how overstimulated you can get before you’re on the edge of legitimate insanity. for instance, you’d be strapped to the bed with a toy inside you and those little vibrating eggs taped to your clit. Hongjoong would definitely conduct the whole situation too, but Seonghwa would be whispering in his ear about what things to do next like “Joong, look at how her legs are trembling. Should we turn up the dials?” and of course Hongjoong would oblige, turning them up three notches higher just in time to see the tears start streaming down your face. and knowing that Hongjoong wouldn’t listen to your pleas, you’d look to Seonghwa and beg for him to listen to you and to have a little compassion, but that would just result in a exchanged glance between Matz, Hongjoong giving him a wicked grin and Seonghwa giving him a small smile back. “Aww, don’t worry. We’ll stop when you beat your record, love,” Hongjoong would inform you, suddenly turning the dials all the way up and making you cum for the eighth time that night, knowing that it would be quite a while before you made it to your record number: 20.

#for vamp anon 🖤#ateez smut #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard asks #ask

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kissoflightning · 6 months

Text

The Graveyard

Some of you have already seen this one, but I'll drop it here for those who haven't.

Summary:

So a thought occurred to me; "What if Leo and Markus actually had a conversation during the graveyard scene?" So I wrote a short story that's exactly this. I may write a larger story around this scene later on, but I had an itch that needed to be scratched by fixing this scene. I want an update on Leo! A deeper connection! Brothers! So here you go!

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

Gen

Fandom:

Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)

Characters:

Leo Manfred

Markus (Detroit: Become Human)

Additional Tags:

Fix-It

Leo Manfred Redemption

Brothers

Leo Needs a Hug

Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug

Carl Manfred Dies

hugging it out

Forgiveness

Crying

graveyard

Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Language:English

Published:2023-09-15

Words:897

The Graveyard

After the Jericho raid, Markus was distraught, and left to seek his father for advice. Only Carl had died from a heart attack, so he was visiting his father's tombstone instead. "I miss the way things used to be...you were a great father, Carl. You had always been there for me, giving me advice and words of wisdom. I wish I could rewind time and go back. I didn't realize it back then, but...I was happy." Markus whimpered, "Carl...dad. I don't know what to do. I thought we would succeed because we were doing the right thing, but humans don't seem to care. I'm going to have to make a big decision...one that could cost thousands of lives. I don't want bloodshed...no matter than color. I wonder...if I had fought back against Leo...would you still be alive? I guess there's no point dwelling on the past; All I can change is the future. I think you'd agree, right Carl?" He paused and began pacing back and forth. "If we protest peacefully, all of the androids caught in the camps will lose their lives when we could have done something but...if we fight back and rescue them...the blood spilled will be on our hands..." Markus took a deep exasperated breath as tears began to stream down his cheeks. "I miss you dad...I miss you so much!"

"M-Markus?!" A familiar voice called out from behind.

"Leo?" Markus responded, still looking down towards Carl's grave.

"How? How the hell are you still alive?! I mean, I saw you on the broadcast, but..." Leo questioned with shock.

"I crawled out of the junkyard and pulled myself together...quite literally." Markus explained.

"I see...so as an android, do you have the ability to speak with the dead?" Leo wondered.

A slight smile curved its way onto Markus' lips as he turned to look at Leo. "No...nobody has such an ability as far as I'm aware." He noticed Leo's features had changed; the dark circles under his eyes were gone, his skin looked smooth, and he appeared to be sober. "You look...better Leo. So what if you could speak with dad? What would you say to him?"

Leo looked down. "I'd tell him...I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"It's all my fault." Leo's eyes filled with moisture and a downpour pushed it's way out. "I was on...that shit and I felt like I needed to blame you. I thought 'How could my dad love that thing more than me? An unfeeling machine over his own son?' But when I sobered up, I started having flashbacks...nightmares about that night. I thought a lot about how you cried and ran to him...calling 'dad'. It's all my fucking fault! I killed dad!" Leo was sobbing uncontrollably, covering his face with his hands.

Leo' remorse seemed legitimate and Markus felt sorry for him. He went behind Leo and wrapped his arms around his waist. "It's not your fault." Markus comforted, speaking softly.

"How is it not my fault?" Leo mumbled in his hands, still covering his face. "Dad died because of me."

"No...it's my fault Leo. I became deviant at that time, and I chose not to fight back. Maybe things could have been different. But it's pointless to dwell on what we did or didn't do. We have to just accept the present and keep moving forward."

"I miss dad. I miss him so much." Leo whimpered.

"I miss him too." Markus shared his sentiment, tightening his hug around Leo.

"I just wish...I wish I could have heard him say that he's proud of me, you know? I managed to quit Red Ice so far...I've been sober for a whole week. It may not seem like much but..."

"I'm so proud of you Leo. It's no easy feat to make that kind of progress." Markus iterated to Leo, using Carl's voice.

Leo was sobbing through exasperated breathing. "I love you, dad!"

Still using Carl's voice, Markus said sweetly, "I love you too, son." He rested his chin on Leo's head as tears escaped from his face as well.

They both closed their eyes and stood there for a few minutes until Leo eventually pulled away from Markus. "I'm sorry...for everything I put you through. I've managed to stay sober for this long, but I don't know if I can keep going. I don't have anyone in my life to love me...my parents are both gone. I don't have any family."

"Dad may be gone but...I'm here, and I've forgiven you." Markus reached his arms out.

"You'd forgive me after what I've done?"

"That's what brothers do." Markus let out a soft chuckle and smiled at Leo.

"Brothers?" Leo pondered as he turned back to Carl's grave.

"Dad would be proud of both of us." Markus assured.

Leo turned to Markus and embraced him in a tight hug. "Thank you so much, bro." Markus tightly reciprocated. "Where are you going to go now?"

Markus pulled out of the hug. "Humans have declared war on us...we have to fight back before they slaughter our people."

"I'm going to fight with you."

"What? That's absurd! Leo you could die! You're a human and I'm just-"

"-You're my brother Markus! Wherever you go, I'll go too."

If you like the idea of Markus and Leo bonding, feel free to leave Kudos/Comments on AO3! <3

The Graveyard - KissOfLightning - Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

#AO3 #ao3 author #Leo Markus Brothers #dbh #fix it fic #leo manfred #dbh markus #leo manfred redemption #fanfiction #dbh fanfic #comfort #Carl Manfred Death #KOL: FANFIC

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snaillamp · 9 months

Text

Fuck appendixes pt. 3

Christina and Boris were sitting at the desk in the nurses area, discussing their difficult patient. “He’s so much easier to help when he’s drugged up and mellow. I legitimately feel scared to go in alone when he’s in one of his moods.” Boris murmured to her.

It had been half an hour since they had tried giving Enjar Nielson his meds, but he was so difficult to help when he kept refusing it and being so rude and aggressive. “I know it’s hard, Boris. You’ll have people like that sometimes. He seems different though. It’s weird, I see him in town sometimes and he always seems so nice and friendly, what changed?” Christina mused. “We need to get that consult for him that Dr Mathieson wanted. Dr Singh maybe? He seems like the right guy to manage someone so... hard.”

Boris nodded, stroking his chin. “Do his records say anything that we can use?” Christina shook her head. “It’s so weird, the notes are really vague. The last time he was in hospital was due to injuries sustained in a home invasion, that was just some glue to his head and a concussion, but look at before. These are the worst medical notes I’ve ever seen in my 15 years of nursing.”

She clicked onto the file, running her finger under the pitiful sentences. “10 years ago, he went to hospital for: Severe work related injury, major lacerations to face and arms, surgery required. Blood transfusion required, administered in right arm. No more information is available at this ti-” A scream echoing down the hall interrupted her. Boris, Christina and a few other nurses shot up and hurtled down the hallway towards the room.

11B, Mr Enjar Nielson.

Boris reached the doorway first, gasping in horror at what he saw. Enjar was seemingly asleep, thrashing in his bed, tangled in his IV and sheets. Sweat was drenching his body as he squirmed, screaming again, crying out slurred words. Christina pushed past him, yanking off the sheets before looking at him and yelling. “Stoltz! We need to get the IV!”

Boris snapped into action, rushing to Enjar’s side and softly pushing his shoulders into the bed. The man seemed to choke on his panting gasps, tears staining his face as he tried to get free. His right arm flew up, blood already streaming from the IV as he clawed at Boris’ arms. He watched as the man’s eyes flew open, fixed on him and yet also nothing, pupils blown bigger than he had ever seen on someone before.

He felt the sharp fingernails of the man stab painfully into his wrists as he tried to calm the man down, telling him to breathe deeply and that he was in the hospital. The terrified, screaming man didn’t seem to understand as Christina fumbled on gloves to disconnect the IV. Before she could even do that, the man’s grip tightened painfully of Boris’ wrists, before he choked on a hiccup and pushed Boris off with strength he didn’t expect from a sick and injured man.

A rattling, chesty cough overtook Enjar as he shook violently with every convulsion. Christina tried to grab his arm to remove the IV but his wild eyes locked onto it, and before Boris could reach out to stop him, he pulled the cannula from his arm, hurtling it at the wall before wrestling off his oxygen.

Christina stared in horror as the hyperventilating patient stared at his rapidly bleeding arm before his wide eyes rolled back and he fell sideways, only caught by her at the last second. Almost immediately, his breathing calmed and the shaking stopped. Both nurses looked at each other in awe, before they shot into action again, dressing the wound on his elbow and calling the doctor.

Dr Fayed heard the screams from his office, jumping from his chair, he ran down the hallway to see a group of nurses crowded around the room 11B, Enjar’s room. Shoving his way through, he reached the bed where his friend lay, limp and pale, sweating profusely. The head nurse, Christina was dressing his bloody elbow, blood also staining her scrubs, the bed, the floor. “What happened in here?” He asked in shock. The younger nurse looked up at him, arguably more pale than the patient, “I have no idea…” he panted.

Dr Fayed pulled a pen light from his pocket, shining them in Enjar’s eyes. His pupils were huge. Feeling his wrist, he raised his eyebrows in shock. The man’s pulse felt like it wanted to jump out of his skin. “Is Dr Mathieson coming?” He asked Christina, who looked at him grimly, nodding. She finished dressing the wound, before stepping back and looking at her blood stained clothes. “Well, time to grab my seconds.” She muttered, mildly annoyed.

She glared at the nurses crowded around the doorway. “Well? Get back to your rounds, ladies and gents. You know better than to gawk.” She huffed as they all muttered apologies, shuffling away and returning to their work.

Dr Fayed looked at the man below him, watching his chest rise and fall. “Oh Enjar. What has happened to you?”

Dr Mathieson flew into the ward looking ready to kill. “Where is my patient!” He yelled, face contorted and pink with rage. Christina shot up and rushed to his side, “Shhh, we’re trying to be quiet so we don’t make him fly into an episode again. Dr Singh is with him right now. Just... be quiet for once.” Dr Mathieson drew in a long, sharp breath, sighing steadily. “Alright.”

When he entered the room, a tall man was taking a seat by the bedside of his patient. He had a fancy, mauve coloured silk vest on over a neatly pressed, crisp white shirt and perfectly fitted dark grey dress pants. His leather shoes could probably have reflected Dr Mathieson’s face in them if he looked at them. He had a matching mauve turban wrapped around his head and was twisting an expertly curled moustache with his right hand, his low, vibrating voice quietly talking to a fast breathing Enjar. The man’s shaking hand was squeezing the doctor’s own, his long fingers curled around the patient’s pale, clammy ones.

He turned at the sound of Dr Mathieson entering the room. “Ah, Tomas…” He whispered, beckoning him in. “Nice and slow okay, we need to work with him, not against him.” Dr Mathieson nodded, taking a cautious step into the room and glancing at his patient, who was staring at the ceiling, eyes streaming with thick, hot tears. “We are just having a moment together, then you and I can talk. You’re welcome to join Ahmed.” The tall doctor did a tiny, slow gesture towards Dr Fayed, who was leaning against the wall looking angry.

Dr Mathieson watched as Dr Singh gently brought his right hand down to Enjar’s hand. It was still tightly gripping his own and he could see Dr Singh's skin going pale as the blood flow was stopped in the iron grip. “I’m touching your hand, can you feel it?” He whispered, watching in the rapidly fading light as the silent crying man nodded. Dr Singh stroked the back of the man’s hand very softly, before speaking again. “I’m going to touch your forearm, okay? Remember that you are in a safe place, and if you want me to stop, just say the words.” Enjar jerked his head in a small nod, swallowing as he closed his eyes. “Breathe in deep for me, Enjar.” The doctor trailed his fingers down the man’s forearm, guiding him in his breaths.

Enjar felt the delicate title of the man’s soft fingers. His presence was calming, he smelled nice, his scent filling the room. Some kind of deep, sweet, herbal smell, maybe floral? He felt the man’s hand trail to his elbow as the told himself over and over: ‘It’s a hospital, not that hospital. I’m safe, I’m safe. Stop being pathetic Enjar.'

He heard the man’s strangely deep, vibrating voice again. “I’m going to touch your upper arm and shoulder. Tell me if you want me to stop. Remember where you are and try to ground yourself.” Enjar let out another shaky breath as the man’s fingers traveled up his arm, then rested on his shoulder.

“Good, good.” The doctor coached, squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly.

“Please… don’t hurt me…” Enjar whispered, trying to push the image of the gloves and helmeted men from his mind. They weren’t the enemy. They were the medic squad, he shouldn’t be afraid of them. “I won’t hurt you.” The helmeted man by his side said, before the image in his mind seemed to dissolve and he heard the new doctor’s voice again. “I am not here to hurt you.”

He heard a shuffle from somewhere around him, and he twitched, before the steady hand rested on his shoulder a little harder. “It’s just Dr Mathieson, Enjar. He won’t hurt you. I need you to ground yourself, alright. Take all the time you need. I’m going to place my hand on your chest now. Tell me to stop if you don’t want it.”

Enjar gulped as he stared at the ceiling, looking at the light fixtures above him. He felt the doctor’s hand move over his shoulder and stop on his chest lightly, right above his pounding heart. “Keep breathing, you’re doing so well Enjar. In and out with me, now.”

Enjar heard the man’s deep, sighing breaths and copied. The gentle hand on his chest felt comforting, the pleasant weight resting over his heart and the breaths that were making him feel faint. After a few minutes, he suddenly became awake of where he was, drawing in a deep breath and blinking as his vision cleared as if a wave of clarity had hit him like a truck.

“There we are. Did you want a lamp on so you can see better?” The doctor asked. Enjar took a moment before shaking his head. The dark was safe. He was safe. “That’s okay. Take all the time you need to come back to us.”

Enjar sat up, hunched over for several minutes, breathing deeply as a hand rested between his shoulder blades. With every breath, he felt like he was shedding his heavy Enjar suit and actually becoming himself once more. It no longer felt like he was looking through someone else’s eyes, feeling through someone else’s skin and hearing through someone else’s ears. He was back.

That meant the pain came back too.

He groaned, clutching his stomach and laying back down coughing a little. He squeezed his eyes shut, before mumbling barely coherent words. “Can I have the lamp on now?” Dr Fayed smiled, “Of course, Enjar.” He whispered, leaning over to the dim lamp in the dark room, switching it on. Enjar saw the light come one behind his eyes lids, and after getting used to the brightness, he opened his eyes, sighing.

“I feel like shit.” He whispered, slurring his words. Dr Singh smiled, “That’s understandable, you’ve been through a lot. Take your time, Mr Nielson. I just need to talk to your doctor.” Enjar felt a twinge of panic. He didn't want to be alone. “Will you come back?” His voice hitched as he asked. “Of course. But I do have to go for a short time.” Enjar nodded, rolling onto his side and relishing in the fact he could pull his right arm around himself and not be restrained by the oxygen. Holding his blankets over him as he curled up, he lay there, watching the three men leave the room.

Dr Mathieson shut the door and looked at the two doctors. “So what exactly happened here?” Dr Singh, towering over Dr Mathieson crossed his arms and answered with an accusatory tone. “Your patient experienced one of the worst traumatic episodes I’ve seen in my career, that’s what.” Dr Mathieson felt a pile of lead settle in his stomach, before it erupted into fire. “Are you insinuating that I did not look after my patient?”

The taller doctor looked down his hooked nose and smirked. “Of course not, Tomas, but I am concerned that it got to that stage in the first place.” Dr Mathieson huffed, pacing the hallway. “And what about you? Why were you in there?” He snapped at Dr Fayed. “I was passing by and I heard him screaming bloody murder. He ripped his IV from his elbow and threw it across the room.” Dr Mathieson scoffed. “That explains the blood everywhere. So what he went insane?”

Dr Singh grimaced. “No, I would prefer the term, went into a fight or flight response. It seems he thought he was somewhere else, perhaps the same place as where he received his scarring. Either way, he wasn’t lucid or aware of his surroundings, think of it like a dream but you’re awake and asleep at the same time.”

“So who’s fault is this?” Dr Mathieson asked, shrugging. “Well, nobody’s and everyone’s. Pointing fingers at what everyone did and didn’t do correctly is not going to help. What we should focus on right now is getting him through this, Doctor Mathieson.” Dr Singh finished shortly. He twirled his moustache. “What is his treatment plan like?”

Dr Mathieson ran a hand through his hair, brow creasing in thought. “He need IV antibiotics and fluids. The nurse made a note that his surgical site may be showing signs of infection, apart from that, rest and sleep.” Dr Singh nodded, stroking his chin. “It looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Was he being interrupted a lot?”

The head nurse, Christina wandered over, hearing the question. “We were doing hourly vitals and he had a malfunctioning machine in there that kept beeping for a bit. Any sleep he was getting was maybe 20 minutes at a time, maybe slightly more. It seemed like he was deliberately staying awake too, before he’d pass out at random times.”

Dr Singh nodded again. “Right, well let’s get treatment back on track. I want his IV in his hand and easier mobility for him. Maybe give him a bath and some kind of independence. Let him feel in control. We can adjust from there, okay? Any issues, call me immediately.”

All three doctors nodded, before Dr Singh cracked the door open, peeking in.

Enjar looked up at him, smiling a little. “How are you feeling?” The doctor asked as he sat up a little. “Sore… Tired... Drained… I just want to be left alone to sleep.” Dr Singh nodded, adjusting his vest slightly. “We will leave you to that, Enjar. However I want to discuss with you your sleep. Have you been getting any?” Enjar felt a small ball of anxiety settle on his chest. “I can’t… Too many memories.” He looked at the doctor, his voice hoarse from screaming.

“They hurt me. The target… All I remember is waking up with my face being covered in gauze and a mask… Black gloves and guys in tactical gear…” Dr Singh moved his head in curiosity. “You were a soldier?” Enjar shook his head. “Special Ops. I helped take down so many guys… bombers, shooters, murderous maniacs…” He sighed, “My team… was my family. We went out on a mission, the target had kidnapped a woman… but we didn’t realise that he wanted us to turn up. I was the only one of my unit to survive, but not without…” His fingers traced the cuts on his arms, a haunted expression on his face.

“I hit my head on a rock and passed out, but I was bleeding a lot. When they found me I woke up and they kept me alive, barely… The hospital in the capital was hell. I was so scared, they didn’t listen to me, it was happening too fast and I just needed a second to catch up.” A hot tear fell down his face and Dr Singh hummed.

Enjar woke to a blank ceiling. He tried to move his arms and legs but they wouldn’t move. The cuffs had strapped him firmly down as he tried to escape... howling at the doctor to wait, to stop, that he wasn’t ready.... He tugged at the leather straps so hard he felt his wrist pop, before two nurses pounced on his right arm, holding it down and letting the doctor penetrate it with a needle....

He couldn’t move, scream, cry, he wanted to run but he was strapped down and it was all to much… The cold liquid filled his arm making it ache, they couldn't do this... he had the choice to say no didn't he? His mind was going a million miles an hour as he felt a jab in his arm and his mind tipped sideways...

Dr Singh frowned, looking angry. “That should never have happened to you Enjar. What that doctor did was wrong, they should have listened to you.” Enjar shook his head. “It was a classified case… Their job was to keep me alive so that I could go to court and testify. My organisation didn’t see me as a person. I was a tool. A means to an end, and that meant they could do anything they wanted. They didn’t even use my name. I was Officer 6926… It was all in my contract...”

Dr Singh rested his hand on Enjar’s and he held it, enjoying the warmth. “Well here, you’re Enjar. I hear that now, you’re a lighthouse keeper. That must be interesting.” Enjar's eyes light up. “It’s the best job in the world." Dr Singh nodded, encouraging him. "I work for the Coast Guard keeping ships safe and even do rescue missions when they need me. I’ve gotten really good at bird watching too, and if I wake up early enough, I can watch the dolphins, whales and seals come in. If I'm lucky, an orca... ” Dr Singh smiled at him, nodding. “That sounds like a dream.”

Sadness washed over Enjar’s face. “I want to go home. Back to my cabin. To my own place. Everything feels… right there.” The doctor nodded, squeezing his hand. “I want to talk to you about that. The sooner we can get you well, the sooner you can go home.” His face made a shiver go down Enjar’s spine.

“This means you’ll need an IV.” Enjar tensed, but the doctor squeezed his hand, “I will make sure they put it in your hand, not your elbow. I’ll need to look at your charts, but I’d say a week or so from now, you might be able to go home to bed rest. We can organise someone to check in on you too. You’ll need to come for check ups of course, but I see you making a full recovery, though this is not my area of expertise.”

Relief filled Enjar as he relaxed, nodding after considering it. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Ready?” The nurse asked Enjar as his hand began to shake. His breath hitched with anxiety. “Remember what we talked about, Enjar.” Dr Singh’s deep voice reminded him. “It’s like a wave, you just have to face it and let it wash over you, then it well be over and you’ll be fine.” Enjar nodded, gulping. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He shut his eyes and flinched as he felt a small prick, then nothing. A minute later the rush of cold fluid into his veins made him grimace, but he felt fine, if not a little jittery. “You did wonderfully, Enjar. I’m proud of you.” Dr Singh smiled wide, flashing his shining teeth, before it fell.

“You feeling okay?” Enjar felt a slight faint feeling creep over him, the blood draining from his face. “I think I might be fai…” His head lolled to the side as he went limp. “That was to be expected. Give him a minute.”

When he came to, Enjar felt fine. He groaned, moving his arm and feeling nothing but the dressing on his elbow crease. “Welcome back, don’t worry you were out for less than a minute.” Dr Singh comforted him. “I have to go now, but you did well Enjar.”

Sleeping was easier for the next few days, the IV so much more comfortable. The dreams were still happening, but he would only twitch or moan in his sleep when he had them, not even remembering them after he woke up.

A day or two later, Matthew and Gunnar came to visit, bringing with them well wishes from the Base and other lighthouse keepers, before they stepped aside and revealed a face Enjar hadn’t seen in many years.

“Johaan?” Enjar laughed, sitting up and watching as the hunched over old man shuffled into the room, leaning on a cane. “Ah, my protégé! How are you my boy? Looking after my old home well?” Enjar smirked, “Evidently not, sir.” The leathery skin on the old man’s face creased as he faked offense. “Now, now, boy, what did I say about all that formality crap, hmm?” He burst into laughter, flashing a toothy grin. “It seems like you have even less teeth than last time!” Enjar joked back as the hunched elder wrapped his arms around Enjar’s frame. “I still have plenty of teeth. Oh, but I missed you, my boy.” He muttered, jokingly before sitting back and reminiscing with the younger man about his own time in the tower.

Enjar seemed to really perk up over the next few days. A mild infection was treated on his wounds and by his second week in hospital he was being prepared for discharge. Matthew and a nurse helped him put on some fresh clothes, before helping him to his weak feet and almost dragging him to a wheelchair. He hugged his delicate stomach tight as they wheeled him down to the entrance of the hospital and into the Coast Guard Four-Wheel Drive.

Matthew jumped in the front seat, revving the engine and starting off, Enjar laying back and sighing in content, he was finally going home. “We just have to make a quick stop first.” Matthew leaned over the seat as he glanced at Enjar, “What, forget to get your wife an anniversary gift?” Enjar joked. Matthew scoffed, “No… Wait what day is it?” Enjar opened an eye and looked at him, amused.

“14th.”

Matthew looked a little pale. “Oh, yeah, okay two stops.” Enjar chuckled, wincing at the pain it caused, before closing his eye again. They stopped at a corner store, Matthew rushing in and coming back with a box of chocolates. “For me? How thoughtful.” Enjar teased, watching Matthew go red. “Shut up. Just cause you’re sick doesn’t mean I won’t hit you.” He smiled, looking at Enjar properly. “I’m glad you’re back, though. I missed your endless taunting.”

Enjar watched the streets turn to empty roads, before they reached a building he hadn’t seen in a while. The large, red and white concrete building with it’s radio towers and lights was nestled into the mist. “Everyone wanted to say hi.” Matthew said, as he got out of the car.

Enjar opened the door and slid out, leaning heavily on the door. “I can get the chair if you want it? You don’t have to be all tough and shit in there.” Matthew said, gesturing at the boot of the car. Enjar gritted his teeth, shaking his head. “I want to try. Just the length of the car and if I can’t then sure.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, before slinging Enjar’s arm over his shoulders and helping him walk. With each step, Enjar seemed to get slightly stronger, until they made it to the door. Enjar gripped the wall for a minute, catching his breath, before nodding. “Ready.” He muttered.

Matthew opened the door and Enjar smiled at the familiar smell of must and burnt coffee that greeted him. They limped through the reception area and into the main office, where someone yelled out, causing the 10 people in the office to all look up and cheer.

Enjar blushed, looking at his feet. Somehow, he ended up in the centre of the office, seated in a comfortable chair with a warm, very burnt coffee in his hands and showered in hugs and greetings. The officers were all happy to see their favourite lighthouse keeper (although they would never admit that), happy, well and alive.

Enjar was shown all the new equipment they had just received. Gunnar was particularly excited about a large chainsaw, and one of the radio operators proudly showed off their collection of birds they had spotted in the area, neatly ticked off in a bird book. Before long, Enjar felt the pain creeping into his body and he apologised, insisting he it was time for him to go home.

As he was helped from the office, he laughed at how everyone was being so careful and delicate with him, almost as if he was made of glass. As Matthew loaded him into the truck again, he sat back and watched the sun begin to set along the coastline, feeling the nerves and turmoil of the past fortnight settle as the sea air filled his lungs.

“Nearly there buddy.” Matthew murmured as he pulled up to the lighthouse. The officers at Base had all been taking shifts to operate it while he was gone, and Enjar was little apprehensive to see how many things he would probably have to fix because of that, but most importantly, he was home.

As Matthew opened the door, Enjar sighed. Everything was fine, except for some muddy footprints on the floor. He rolled his eyes as Matthew gently placed him on the couch next to the door. “You’ll be okay from here?” He asked Enjar again for the millionth time, looking nervous. “Yes. The nurse will be coming tomorrow, so if I die or anything, I’m sure they will rescue me.” Enjar insisted, half annoyed.

“Okay, okay…” Matthew asked, admitting defeat. Biting his lip, Enjar decided it was best to do it now. “Hey… You know what I said when I was sick…” He fiddled with his hands as Matthew said it was nothing, assuring him that it was fine and that he had been sick. “Just be quiet… I’m sorry. You saved my life, Matthew. Thank you.” Enjar grinned.

Matthew plonked down on the couch, causing it to groan under the strain. “Hey, you saved mine when I was a rookie, think of it as me returning the favour. Now we're even.” He smirked before standing. “I gotta get home. Call if you-“

Enjar rolled his eyes, finishing Matthew’s sentence, “-Need anything. I swear if you say that one more time I’m going to throw you off the tower.” Matthew grabbed the door, laughing. “You gotta catch me first!”

He waved goodbye, leaving Enjar to sit in the silence of his cabin. It felt good to be home, his anxiety finally calmed and his mind at ease.

Easing himself up, he slowly made his way across his home, grabbing onto chairs, benches and door frames, before finally making it to his bed. He collapsed face first into the soft mattress, exhausted. “I missed you…” He mumbled into the sheets, freshly washed by one of the guards.

Crawling into bed, he stared at the ceiling, looking at the knots in the wood of the awnings. He had counted them many times with his eyes on nights that he couldn’t sleep, but tonight, his eyes fell shut before he got past number 4.

That night he had the best sleep he had had in a really long time.

~masterlist~

#whump #medical whump #hospital whump #needle whump #sickfic #snaillamp #original post #part three #i thought this would be a two parter oh well #enjar #whump oc #sick whumpee

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