#Working all the time. Constantly exhausted. Sore and sick with nothing to show for it.

[bellamontwasright]

This short fic about Helena setting up the clinic in Riften has spiraled into a multi chapter character study about a lifelong criminal's failed three year attempt to live honestly.

#skyrim #Tes OC's #The New Cold Front doesn't even cover the events of the thieves Guild Questline it's just Helena's first few years in Riften #Helena is fucked up and she adopts Alesan on a whim because he reminds her of herself at that age #Working all the time. Constantly exhausted. Sore and sick with nothing to show for it.

[c0pernicus]

I feel like I never really see people talk about just how bad the long term effects of prolonged abuse, or C-PTSD can really be in people, especially young people, and I wish it was talked about more.

I pretty much never talk about my own experiences for safety reasons, because I would always receive a whole mess if I did choose to try and tell others what I went through, and maybe that's what has made my experience with C-PTSD so bad, but its genuinely so debilitating.

The burn out, the exhaustion, the body aches and horrible sleep schedules and inability to maintain a job because my emotions and brain had really never recovered even years- half a decade- after everything stopped. The digestive issues, the memory problems, the entire lack of a sense of identity and self. The lack of want to put effort into my identity and self.

I feel like I'm chronically searching for someone that's supposed to be me. Constantly, I'm stuck now trying to validate a sense of self I no longer possess. Old passions, old hobbies, old things I liked and enjoyed- It feels like I've been stripped down to bone and nothing sticks anymore. If I have an interest it's very fleeting and I usually will drop it once I find I start to enjoy it, as if its been so heavily ingrained in my brain that peace and happiness and to just enjoy things isn't something I'm allowed. I've become incapable of thinking anything even neutral about myself at this point. I don't believe nearly anything anyone else says to me, and I feel very passive towards others in general if I'm not terrified of them instead. I lack friends and connections, and I constantly hide away from others.

I'm constantly frozen. I can't function on even a basic level if someone else is present in my home; I have to be doing what they're doing, or engaged in some way with what they're doing (Watching, observing, next to them at the very least and quietly doing something unobtrusive) or I can't do anything at all. If I am left alone I'm riddled with anxiety and my mood plummets, my intrusive thoughts are constant and like a horrible movie montage I can't turn off. Trying to lay down and sleep is no better, for years I've been stuck having to just occupy my brain until I pass out.

It's a constant ghost I just can't seem to exorcise from myself. No amount of trying to forgive or forget or let go or move on or accept has made a pebbles difference in the mountain I'm stuck under. I forget everything and anything except for what caused all of this; my wife and friend constantly cut me off to tell me that they've already heard what I'm telling from before from my own mouth, and they I know there are times where they let me continue like it's the first time I've ever told them the fact or the story and I'm simply none-the-wiser. I can't remember things I've done, things I need to do, events or recent days even. I feel stupid and airheaded on the best days, and I know it shows to others because they've told me before.

Work is hard because of the anxiety, the agoraphobia, the memory problems, the health problems. I'm sick constantly; I can't eat or retain food, I have the flu, I've caught Covid for the 8th time despite trying to be good about cleanliness when I leave the house and return. I can't eat a lot of food without being in pain, with it going right through me or sitting like a rock in my stomach for several days. My joints ache more often, my muscles are sore, my traps are solid to a concerning degree from the daily stress of just living with it all. I can't remember the last time my eyes weren't sunken in and purple-blue.

Therapists have only wanted to slap me with a diagnosis and an array of medications- none of which have worked. I've been told it's depression, it's anxiety, it's PTSD, it's bi-polar, it's BPD, it's psychotic depression, it's schizoaffective, it's DID. The DID one threw me for a loop, I'm not going to lie, but the rest were believable enough. I don't look at my medical charts anymore, so I don't know what I have or haven't been branded with by now. The meds and talk therapy never help, I never feel release, I don't believe words anymore- especially from strangers. The meds make the brain fog worse, or I feel numb, or people don't like the person I've become, or my self harming gets much worse, or I just want to kill myself enough to really try to.

Stress tips me over the edge so easily. The hallucinations suck and I resent them. They're a one way ticket to being unemployed and unfunctional for potentially months at a time, and it's humiliating after the fact as well. The last time I had a bad episode I believed there was a man living in my closet, and I couldn't go inside of it. I would hear him moving around inside, he'd yell and get so angry if you opened the door. I've thankfully forgotten the name I gave him; it was something stupid for sure.

I've become a miserable ghost, and I don't see any light at the end of the long tunnel. There is no way back to my body. I'm just lost and wandering and witnessing but never participating. It hurts the most to think of how I was before too many things piled up; the passion and the drive and the creativity. Always making something, always doing something, there was always some project or plan or thing I was doing that I felt pride for. I didn't care if I was weird to others, because I was confident in myself.

I just lay down now, when I can. I do my dishes and my laundry, I try to shower when it doesn't make me nauseous to. I take care of my cats and I work jobs infrequently. I sit with my parents disappointment in who I've become like it's an old friend, and we share coffee and reveries.

I exist, begrudgingly. That is the only thing I try to take pride in now.

#yodeling alpha #idk why i wrote this but maybe its something I can put down for a little while at least

[akakeiiji]

Hi! This is my first time requesting something, i was wondering if you could do headcanons or reactions for Oikawa, Akaashi, Atsumu, sugawara and Nishinoya who have an s/o who is a medical student and works as a paramedic in her free time and tends their injuries after games or durning them, especially oikawa 😔🙏🏻

Omg anon, if this ask is based off of you then you are amazing!! Keep up the great work! 

Also I finally broke through my creative block and actually wrote something, I actually finished these hcs a few days ago but my laptop died before I could post so I had to start from scratch huhu (having to start over drained me so much hence why this took so long to post)

✂︎・・・masterlist

-`,✎Oikawa, Akaashi, Atsumu, Sugawara and Nishinoya’s reaction to their S/O tending to their injuries

Oikawa Tooru

Oikawa is the king of overworking himself

Even when he doesn’t have any matches to worry about, he’s in the gym practicing and practicing till he physically can’t anymore

It’s no wonder why he gets injured a lot, he just never knows when to stop

If it weren’t for you his body would be in horrible shape

You always know what to say and do to get him to stop practicing for the day, and you’re always the one tending to his sore and exhausted body ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He loves flexing you, he needs everyone to know how smart you are

When I say everyone, I mean everyone

You turn around for a bit and he’s suddenly telling the cashier how amazing you are for being a paramedic

Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa is actually very smart so sometimes he’ll study with you in his free time, helping you out by quizzing you and stuff

He studies your material sometimes, idly reading through your papers and textbooks sometimes

He’ll just randomly blurt out random medical facts, which may or may not be a ploy to impress you

One day when it was reaching the end of a match, you could tell that something was wrong with Tooru, it wasn’t obvious but you knew when he was in pain

You internally screamed at him, urging him to sit the rest of the match out but this was Oikawa you were talking about

Luckily the match ended quickly after that with Oikawa’s team winning but he almost collapses from the sheer pain he was feeling on his leg, it had been acting up again from his old injury

You were absolutely livid because it wouldn't have been so bad if he stopped playing when it started hurting but you were too worried to lecture him

There are tears prickling his eyes but he’s still smiling and telling everyone he’ll be okay because you’re there

“They’re the best of best, they’ll be able to help me!”

He’d be bedridden for a while and, of course, you’d be by his side the entire time

You scolded him for an hour and he couldn’t run away so he had to endure it all

For the first few days, everything would be okay, but after a while, he starts getting restless and keeps trying to get up to do things by himself

You would physically restrain him to the bed if you could

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

JUST KIDDING….Unless

He wants nothing more than to go back to training, he’d literally start dreaming about volleyball on some nights

You have to constantly remind him that if he doesn't recover properly he’ll just worsen his leg so that he doesn’t run away while you’re at school or at work

“If it gets worse, they might have to amputate it.”

“What?! You can’t be serious…you’re joking, right?”

Since he can’t go out or train anymore, he spends the rest of his time trying to get your attention

He’s so pouty and whiny, always calling for you for no good reason

While you’re studying in the other room, he’ll suddenly call for you saying he needs you

When you go over to him, he’ll just be like: “I need you~” and you’d have to fight the urge to strangle him

He really just wants your attention, pls help him

In all seriousness though, he’s so thankful to you and truly appreciates what you do

While you’re checking on his leg one day, he’d take your gentle hands in his and pull you in for a hug

“Thank you for putting up with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“…also I need to pee.”

Akaashi  Keiji

My son

My precious boy

It pains me to write about him getting hurt

He’s so supportive of you and your studies, he knows how hard studying medicine is

He always checks in on you when you’re studying or working

He’s the type of boyfriend that will give you little snacks while you’re working and remind you to take breaks

Whenever he feels sick or gets hurt, you’re the first one he calls because he trusts you the most and because he knows how capable you are

But this happens very rarely because he’s really careful and knows his limits

During one of his matches though, he suddenly falls over after setting a ball, clutching his leg

He’s immediately rushed over to the infirmary but when they arrive you’re already there wheezing and panting after running all the way there from the bleachers

The nurse tells you that he sprained his ankle pretty badly and that he’d recover just fine but you still felt so bad because you could see how much Akaashi was in pain

I'm legitimately hurting rn while writing this

After getting injured, he starts overthinking so fricking much

He’ll start thinking that he was pulling his team down and begin questioning his skills as a player

You literally have to slap some sense into him or he’ll just drown in his thoughts

You’ll have to cup his face in your hands and urge him to look at you while you tell him how much of an amazing player he is and how injuries like these are inevitable when playing sports

He’ll only start feeling better after this but he still needs a huge dose of your hugs and kisses to fully recover

Out of all the boys, he’s probably the easiest to take care of (he’s prolly tied with Suga)

He’s more obedient and doesn’t mind staying in bed for a long time

But at the same time, he’s so stubborn and says he doesn’t need your help

He just keeps thinking that he’s burdening you while you have so much on your plate

“I don’t need your help, love. I’m completely fine.”

“Keiji, there are literally tears in your eyes.”

He subconsciously gets clingier than usual as the days go by, always trying to get your attention

He isn’t as obvious as other ehem tooru and tries to do so in more subtle ways

Like he’ll just accidentally drop his book and when you go to pick it up he’ll pull you onto the bed and before you know it you’ve been cuddling for two hours straight

The extra affection is his own little way of saying thank you

While you’re checking on his injuries he’ll grab your hand with his and press your knuckles to his lips

“Thank you, love.”

My heart burst

Miya Atsumu

Oikawa part 2 but snarkier

He just doEsn’T kNow whEn to StOP

He always finds some nitty gritty detail he absolutely needs to fix during his regular practice and stays after hours to work on it

He can train for hours without realizing it, before he knows it it’s midnight, he’s the only soul left in the building and his legs are dying

Other times, when you arrive home to find your boyfriend missing, you immediately head over to his gym and drag him home

During a match, he dives down to save a ball only to crash on the ground awkwardly and injure his shoulder

He’s forced to leave the court after failing to convince the referee and his coach that he was fine and he was absolutely livid

Not at them but at himself

He thinks that the injury was a sign that he was slacking off or losing his edge

He goes off on a tangent about how he needs to practice more and how he can’t afford to waste time

Nobody could calm him down until you arrived

After you got there and talked some sense into him, he finally complies and lets himself be lead away to the infirmary

He’s down in the dumps for at least a week, usually found grumbling at the tv, unsure of what to do with this unprecedented free time

But soon after a lot of talks lectures with you and food sent by his brother, he starts going back to his usual old self

He’s absolutely basking in this extra attention from you, he secretly loves being doted on

It used to really irk him when he finds he can’t do certain things with his injury like opening a jar

But once it dawns on him that you’re there, he will totally abuse this just to get your attention and to bother you

“Hey, can you help me open the fridge?”

“You can do that by yourself.”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WON’T HELP YOUR INJURED BOYFRIEND.”

Whenever you’re checking on his shoulder, he always distracts you by kissing your lips or neck while you’re trying to be a good s/o and it always ends up in a makeout session or more

Because he’s got so much more free time, he’s usually found in your shared apartment, clinging onto you while you’re studying waiting for you to finish

“Are you ready to dote on me?”

“No, be patient.”

“>:’(”

When the doctor tell him he’s fully recovered, the first thing he does is lift you in his arms and twirl you around

Sugawara Koushi

Precious bby

This mama bear rarely gets injured, he’s usually the one nursing others

You two are like this wonderful duo with magic curing hands

He absolutely loves that you’re pursuing your dreams of being in the medical field and low-key shows you off to everyone he knows

Especially to his parents, they love you almost as much as they love him don't tell him that tho

He’s really careful while playing because he hates being in pain, like more so than the average person if you get what I mean

While blocking though, he ends up injuring his wrists from the sheer strength of the spike and the not so ideal positioning of his arms

He has tears in his eyes while he’s being brought to the infirmary and your heart literally broke as you watched from the sidelines

He was stuck with a wrist splint for a couple of weeks

Like Atsumu he constantly needs your help to do mundane things like open cans and such

Unlike Atsumu though, he’s less whiny and more distraught over the fact that he’s always being doted on

He isn’t used to being the one taken care of

He always tries not to burden you and always tries to do things by himself

“Koushi! What was that crash I heard?”

“Nothing! Don’t mind me, just focus on your work.”

“WHY ARE YOU COOKING!?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, DAMNIT—”

He broke two plates that day trying to make your favorite meal

Apparently cooking with a splint is pretty difficult, he takes note of this

He becomes guilty when you do things like cook and clean, he tries to help as best he can but you always tell him to just sit back and relax but he jUSt cAn’T

He doesn’t want you to worry about stuff like that because you need to study!! He feels so helpless sometimes

While you’re cooking dinner, you’ll just turn to the side and do a double take when you see him staring at you with wide, concerned eyes

“What?”

“I want to help :(”

He’s literally the living embodiment of this emoji: 🥺

You let him help with little stuff like stirring and watching the pot while you cut the vegetables and stuff

He immediately feels better after this, he wants to feel at least a little bit helpful

At the end of the day, while you two are in bed, he’ll nudge closer to you and pepper your face with kisses

“What was that for?”

“I just love you so much, thank you.”

Nishinoya Yuu

Sorry but everyone at the ER is on a first-name basis with Nishinoya

LISTEN HE’S SO CHAOTIC AND WILD, HE ALWAYS GETS HIMSELF INTO DUMB SITUATIONS

His grandfather didn’t even bat an eye when the school nurse would call him informing him that Nishinoya managed to break his arm during his math exam don’t ask

When he found out about your studies and your job he was so giddy and kept telling you that it was fate and that you two completed each other

He’s literally the proudest boyfriend that you could ever have, always telling everyone about how smart and talented you are

“Yeah, you may be a rocket scientist but you will never be as smart as my s/o!”

“Yuu, what are you doing—”

He loves having a smart s/o, he’s always being wowed by your vast knowledge

You can always find him silently cheering you in the corner while you’re studying

Basically, he’s your number one fan and supporter

Asides from that, he’s also your number one patient

Whenever he gets hurt, you’re the first one he turns to, he tells you it’s good practice and that it’s helping you improve your skills in an attempt to stop you for scolding him

One time, he sprained his elbow while trying to do some new move he saw on tv

Insert vine: I don’t care that you broke your elbow

Except you do care, a lot in fact

He’s lowkey tearing up when being rushed to the infirmary because it hurts but mostly because he just wants to play

You have to be so strict and stern with him

He’s so energetic and bouncy, he definitely doesn’t respond well to being bound with bandages or slings

If it weren’t for you, he probably would have worsened his injuries, but he’s a huge simp so he listens to everything you say…mostly

Since he can’t use his energy for volleyball and sports, he’ll direct that energy towards giving you attention

He becomes sooo affectionate and clingy, he just wants to shower you with love

He gets restless often, whenever he does he’ll plop down beside you and wrap his good arm around your waist while you’re working as a way to remind himself to stay put and to not jump out the window from boredom

“Kiss my boo-boo?”

“What are you? Five?”

Unlike the others, he’s very very open about how thankful he is to have you taking care of him, he would scream it out the window if you would let him

He reminds you every day how blessed he is to have you, at the most random of times actually

“Can you open this bottle for me?”

“Sure.”

“GOD, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE YOU?”

“CALM DOWN—”

He’s so in love, please save him

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru headcanons #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi #akaashi keiji headcanons #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu headcanons #sugawara koushi #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi headcanons #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yuu headcanons

[hacked-by-jake]

Can you please show love of jake and mc while mc is sick and jake take care of her

Private Nurse

A/n: Hey, thank you very much for your request. I loved the idea. I hope you like it as it has become now. I wish you a nice rest of the day/ evening or night. Have fun reading.❤️

Pairing: Jake x MC

Words: 1,9k

Summary: Jake does everything for you

A few days ago you woke up with a bad cold. A bad cough attack woke you up at 5 o'clock in the morning, unfortunately not only you but also the peacefully sleeping hacker. You were sweaty all over, the sheets were wet, your clothes and the blanket and your pillow. Your throat hurt terribly and your head felt like a bus rolled over it. Your ears were booming and your nose was blocked. Your throat was as dry as if you haven’t been drinking for days, and with each breath, your lungs have awkwardly rattled and scratched.

You’ve never seen Jake so worried. While a bad cough attack made breathing even more difficult, he sat next to you and calmly stroked your back and handed you the water bottle. The cool liquid in your dry throat felt like paradise itself. Carefully, Jake had pulled the wet strands of hair out of your face as you calmed down and his eyes widened in shock, God baby, it's feel like you’re cooking. Your forehead is burning up"

You feel so dirty, you even started crying at his sad look. He pulled you into his arms and just held you tight. After your little emotional breakdown, he got up to make you a tea and came back with a wet washcloth he put on your forehead. You moaned with relief as a few cold drops have rolled over your face and brought you a little improvement.

Unfortunately, you were so warm and you had sweated so much that he had to go again within a few minutes to switch back to cool water.

„I’ll fill you some water in the bathtub, okay? You should wash yourself and get out of your wet clothes, my love," he said, and you couldn't do more than nod your head.

Your whole body was so sticky that the thought of water was heavenly. You couldn’t have taken a shower, you felt too weak and exhausted.

He didn’t let you go by yourself, he came back and carried you to the bathroom. The cup of tea he had made was ready and a mountain of foam swam on the water. You could only imagine how good it smelled.

He helped you take off your clothes and put you in the bathtub, whose water was only lukewarm to cool you down a little. The water helped you relax your muscles and turn off your head. Even though you protested, Jake had asked if it was okay if he briefly went to change the bed linen. But you didn’t want him to bother if it was your fault, but he just ignored your weak attempts.

A short time later, he came back with your favorite book and sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He’d read you your favorite lines and lovingly pulled his hand through your hair. He helped you wash your hair and when you were done bathing, he helped you dry and put on. He carried you back to the bedroom with a new cup of steaming tea and a pack of tablets for fever.

Although he still looked terribly tired and had to yawn constantly, he stayed awake. He lay down in bed with you after he took his laptop and even took off his shirt so that you did not get too warm while cuddling. He had turned on your favorite movie and pulled you to himself. Your head lay on his chest and he caressed your hair calmly until you managed to fall asleep again.

The next time you woke up, which was already around noon and unfortunately you didn’t feel better. But luckily, you didn’t sweat as much because of the pills and the fever got better.

You could hear noises from the kitchen so you got up to see what the hacker was doing there. And when you saw the table full of things you like, you could have started crying again.

While you had been sleeping, he was on his way to get the right medication from the pharmacy and then went shopping to buy everything you like to eat.

He really thought of everything, different teas, crisps, chocolate, ice cream, gummy bears, juice, fruits like strawberries and cherries. Various soups with which you could probably survive the whole year and vegetables. But the sweetest were the different types of ice that he brought with him if your fever got worse and to calm your sore throat.

And at that moment, you had fallen in love with him again, how lovingly he smiled when he saw you. The way he came at you and locked you in his arms. Kissing you and not letting go while he explained to you what the different medications are.

He brought you back to bed and brought you soup shortly after and carried everything he had bought into the bedroom. With his charging cable for the laptop, he has laid back with you and you have watched movies all day, videos on YouTube, cuddled in silence or he had told you stories from his life. Stories of his escape, stories from the life of a hacker or he had just told what he was working on.

For the next few days, you have never felt so good in your soul, even though you were sick. Jake did everything for you, helped you with everything, and every second make sure you didn’t miss anything. Didn’t working, and only gave himself in to you.

You had felt really bad after three days because he was hanging by your side the whole time. You kept trying to explain to him that it would be okay if he wanted to work or have a little time to himself. That he didn’t have to stay by your side all the time.

But all he did was look at you in complete dumbfounded. As if you were crazy, he had looked at you and made you realize that nothing mattered except you. That he wouldn’t leave your side until you were better off.

The way he was disturbed by your words was one of the sweetest things you had ever seen. You knew the world could end and Jake would do anything to protect you and take care of you.

He made sure that you could go to the balcony for a few minutes to get some fresh air. He made sure that you didn’t get bored by alternating between movies, puzzles and board games or card games. He kept reading to you from a book, and you could swear that you were just getting better so quickly only because of Jake.

After four days and the still failed attempt to persuade him to go to work because you knew he would like to, you even told him he would annoy you, to get rid of him. If it had been up to you, of course, he could have just stayed with you forever, but you didn’t want him to sacrifice all his time just because you were sick.

When you accused him of annoying you, he just laughed and replied, "I don’t care if I annoy you. I won’t leave you alone until you’re well."

Then you started bugging him, reassuring him that he could leave and that nothing would happen to you while he was away. He’d be only a few rooms away.

Sighing, he finally got up and disappeared into his study. He’d locked the door behind him, and you’d turned on your movie again.

However, not five minutes later he came back with a broad grin. Amused you asked him what was going on, but all he did was lift you up and take the blanket with him. He took you to his study, and when you saw the big armchair from the living room, at the place where his desk chair should be, you laughed too.

He’d traded chair for armchairs and dropped on them with you. While you were just continuing to watch movies or videos, Jake had finally done the job he had been postponing all the days before.

Although you have really appreciated Jake’s sweet nature and his concern, you were happy when after a week you were almost really well again. And only thanks to the hacker who had done everything to make you feel good.

There hasn’t been a moment in the last seven days that he hasn’t been sweeter to you than sugar.

Every day you got new energy and every second you lay in his arms made you feel a bit better. The beaming and happiness in Jake’s eyes when you told him you were better, thanks to him, was beautiful. Seeing how proud he was that it helped you, what he did was reason enough to always get healthier. You knew he was the sweetest person in the world even before the last week, but if someone would have given you a dollar every time Jake told you he loved you or kissed you, on your forehead, cheek, lips. If someone had given you a dollar every time, you’d be the richest person in the world by now. You could rent a luxury yacht and spend your life sailing around the world.

Not only did Jake help you get better, he also made it clear to you again, at the same time that he was the only one who could make you happy, that he was and is the only one who deserves to be by your side. Even if he didn’t want you anymore, you’d probably be single all your life because there’d never be man like Jake. Who would treat you like Jake did, who would care for you like Jake cares for you, who would love you like Jake loves you. Every second with the hacker was the most valuable thing in the world for you, and the only thing that really makes sense. You knew before that Jake was and will be the only one for you, but now you knew it clearly. Jake is the most special and best person in the world.

When you woke up on the eighth day in the morning, you finally felt healthy again. Your throat didn’t hurt anymore, your nose wasn’t clogged, and you could breathe without coughing.

In a good mood you bent over to Jake and covered his face with a lot of small kisses until he finally woke up. But when you saw his glassy eyes and the deep shadows under his eyes, you immediately anxiously left to sit down, "Good morning" he murmured with a scratchy voice and immediately you felt bad.

You’ve been afraid to infect him all day, didn’t want him to feel as bad as you. Didn’t want him to suffer any more, because he had suffered with you the last few days. He also didn’t sleep much at night because you couldn’t sleep so well. Because you rolled around in bed or were constantly woken up by coughing fits, and now he was sick.

"I’m so sorry, Jake," you mumble with concern, brushing his cheek. In response, he turns his head away from you in a flash to sneeze.

And you decide to care for him even more than he did for you.

🌹🎭

Masterlist

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #everbyte #everbyte duskwood #everbyte studios #duskwood everbyte #duskwood mc

[spookyboywhump]

Overheating

Alright so I really wanted to write smth with This so thank you @unicornscotty <3

I know it’s the fourth but I really wanted to participate in the @summer-of-whump event but I didn’t have the time until today so technically this is also for the day one prompt “overheating” (fun fact: originally I had a piece with Wren planned for this)

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, locked outside, emeto mention, drowning mention, heat exhaustion

***

He woke up when he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and dragged off his bed, roughly pushed to the floor. He was disoriented, squinting up at Cain from where he laid. His owner looked irritated, apparently still upset over the fight Zander lost the night before. He should’ve been expecting this, seeing as Cain hadn’t punished him immediately after getting home.

“Fucking hell… good morning to you too.” He muttered sarcastically, while Cain jabbed him in the side with the tip of his shoe, Zander wincing as he dug into one of the bruises.

“Get up.” He ordered, and Zander sighed, pushing himself up and getting to his feet. He was too exhausted, too sore to fight with him. He figured he may as well just accept his punishment and get it over with. “Hands behind your back.”

“Sure thing, officer.” He snickered, doing as he was told though, only for Cain to quickly cuff his wrists together. Zander followed him from the room, mentally preparing himself for a beating, a whipping, caning, drowning, anything like that, but instead, Cain led him out back.

Now that he was outside he realized it was early in the morning, around the time Cain usually left for work. He sighed heavily, realizing that it was going to be another day locked outside, but instead of dragging him out into the yard, he was made to kneel on part of the patio- specifically, the part that wasn’t covered. Cain had clearly already prepared this punishment, a chain locked around one of the nearest posts, which was grabbed and clipped to his collar. It was just long enough that he could lean forward, but he couldn’t have moved from that spot, even trying to move into the shade was impossible for him.

“You’ll spend today out here. If I’m in a better mood, I might let you in when I get home.” He said, and Zander jerked away when he tried to ruffle his hair. Cain started to head inside after that, pausing to add, “Oh, and by the way mutt- I’m working late today.” He said, Zander glaring when he flashed a smile at him before heading inside, the doors slamming shut and locking behind him.

Zander tried to tell himself this wasn’t that bad. He’d been left outside before, sometimes for days at a time, he could handle it. He wasn’t happy, but he could handle it, in fact, he considered it better than a beating. He was bored, of course, but by now he was used to boredom. He didn’t think it would be a problem at all, but as time passed and the day went on, he quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

It was the middle of summer, and while it wasn’t so bad early in the morning, the temperature continued to climb higher and higher. He was used to being tied in the yard, on the cool grass, with a chain long enough he could move into the shade of the trees. He was trapped here though, the sun beating down on him as he knelt on hot concrete. He regretted falling asleep wearing shorts, even if it would’ve been hotter at least pants would’ve provided some protection from the burning heat that had him constantly shifting uncomfortably.

He didn’t normally hate the heat very much. He was used to it, he used to enjoy being out on a sweltering day, but back then he’d usually end up at a friend’s pool or down at the lake, anything to cool off. He would’ve killed for even a drop of cold water, done anything to be submerged in it. His hair and his clothes stuck to his skin, sweat beading on his forehead, the back of his neck, he couldn’t even really wipe it away thanks to his hands being restrained. He winced as sweat stung open scratches from the night before, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a slow, deep breath.

He could handle discomfort. He was always uncomfortable. Hours went by and discomfort had given way to sickness though, somehow nauseous despite the fact he hadn’t even gotten to eat that day. He was doubled over as much as he could, trying to ignore the stomach pain and the sick feeling, but it was difficult when there was nothing else he could focus on.

“Fucking Cain.” He muttered to himself, attempting to talk himself through this. “Fuck him, fucking idiot. Can’t fucking believe this…” He winced, his stomach in knots at this point. “It’s fine… it’s just the sun… fuck, if I get a sunburn I’m gonna be pissed… I hope his stupid ass gets a sunburn, pale fucking vampire looking-“ He was forcibly cut off, dry heaving as the nausea got worse and worse.

By late in the afternoon he felt weak, even more exhausted than he had been that morning. His legs hurt, there was no position that was comfortable as the concrete burned his feet and legs. He hated to admit how much he cried, when he finally couldn’t take it any longer, but he couldn’t even cry for long, as though he were too dehydrated to manage even that. He kept his eyes shut as much as he could, his head was pounding and the bright sunlight wasn’t helping at all.

By the time the back doors opened again, Zander was blinking in and out of consciousness. It was sometime in the evening by then, but it was still warm out, too warm for Zander after enduring the whole day like that. He didn’t actually recognize that Cain was back until he was standing directly in front of him- something held in his hands too.

“Hey, you look like shit.” He snickered, and Zander couldn’t do much more than attempt to glare at him. He didn’t even want to know how he looked right now, likely drenched in sweat, red in his already bruised face. He was taking slow, deep breaths, he’d been fighting against the urge to vomit all day. He set down something in front of him, a bright red dog bowl, which was filled with water. “Go ahead boy, I’m sure you’re thirsty.” He told him, and it took Zander a moment to realize what he was saying.

Am I really this fucking desperate?

His mouth was so dry it was difficult for him to swallow. His throat hurt, he was hardly even capable of keeping himself awake right now, so exhausted and dizzy he couldn’t even really think straight. He hadn’t had anything to drink that day, and no matter the circumstances, this was water being offered right in front of him.

Fucking whatever, dignity be damned.

He abruptly lurched forward, desperate for it after all this time, only to gag as the chain stopped him, only inches from the water but just out of reach. He whined pathetically, he pulled against the chain despite the fact he couldn’t breath and it was showing no signs in breaking, but there was nothing he could do except sit there, and listen to Cain laugh- something that very, very quickly set him off.

“Fucking Bastard- really?!” He shouted. “Fuck you! Fucking let me go!” He growled, using all his energy just to yell at cain. “Stop fucking laughing, it’s not fucking funny!”

“No, it’s hilarious!” Cain laughed. “You’re such a desperate son of a bitch, huh? Would you really drink from a bowl like the dog you fucking are?”

“I would if you weren’t such an asshole! I don’t give a shit, just give me something!” He cried, just short of begging him. Cain was still laughing, but he nudged the bowl closer to him and Zander really did disregard any desire he’d had to avoid this, doing his best to drink from the bowl without his hands. The humiliation was absolutely nothing compared to the relief he felt, he’d never tasted anything better than that water tasted now. He drank as much as he could, as fast as he could to avoid having it taken away, but eventually Cain did take the bowl from him, then he unclipped the chain from his collar.

He tried to get up but he only just now realized how weak he was, collapsing almost immediately. Cain had to actually help him back into the house, his legs were trembling violently and he swore the room was moving side to side. Cain made a face since he was close enough to smell him after a day of sweating under the summer sun, if anything Zander counted that as some sort of victory on his end. He didn’t seem to realize anything was actually wrong with him though, he was dragged to his room and shoved to the floor, where he laid as he was locked into that cell again.

It took a long time for him to move. He couldn’t walk, he had to drag himself into the bathroom and turn on the shower to cold water, his hands shaking as he peeled his clothes off, sitting on the shower floor and breathing a sigh of relief as the cold water poured over him. He took deep, shuddering breaths, and he winced as the water hit the fresh burns on his legs, worse than he thought they would be. He wasn’t even sure if he had anything in his supplies meant for burns, but he figured he could work with what he had, he’d always done so before.

He didn’t expect to pass out in the shower. One moment he was tiredly looking at the back of his hand, at his bruised knuckles, and the next he was waking up slumped against the wall, cold and shivering now that he’d been in there long enough. He didn’t know how long that had actually been, but he finally was able to turn the water off and struggle to his feet, able to keep himself upright long enough to dry off and get dressed. He wanted to go pass out in his bed but just the thought of the mattress and the blanket made him feel hot, he wasn’t entirely thinking straight when he laid down on the bathroom floor, but he found he didn’t regret it one bit, finding relief in the cool tiles against his skin.

He wasn’t thinking entirely clearly, his thoughts still clouded with confusion, but he knew one thing for certain- With how angry he had been over his little “joke”, Cain was lucky Zander had been restrained.

#whump #my writing #my oc’s #zander #Cain #pet whump #dehumanization #heat exhaustion #summerofwhump #summerofwhump1

[justmeandmysickies]

2 hours and 41 minutes

characters: Key and Jaylen warnings: emeto

1 hour and 48 minutes. That's how long they'd been sitting on the bathroom floor. And key was done.

But of course, he wasn't the one who should be complaining. It was his boyfriend who had been dry heaving constantly for the better part of the last two hours.

But his knees, ass and back were hurting from sitting on the floor and his arms were getting sore from the constant motion of rubbing Jaylen's back. And on top of it all, the sick brunette refused to leave the bathroom, even though he'd been unable to bring anything up, claiming he'd throw up 'any minute now'.

Key knew he shouldn’t be whining but he couldn't help pitying himself a little bit.

And yes, he knew he could leave. He could simply walk away and find somewhere comfortable to relax and Jaylen wouldn't even be mad, considering he himself would have left ages ago. But Key couldn't bring himself to - not when his boyfriend looked like this.

Jay was shivering, despite his white shirt being basically see through with sweat. His face was ghostly pale, and tears of exertion were streaming down his cheeks. His head was resting on his arms, which were crossed over the toilet seat. At this point Jaylen was a sniffling mess and Key couldn’t help but feel bad for his usually bright boyfriend.

Another dry heave sounded from within the toilet bowl and Key cringed at the sound. Jaylen on the other hand barely showed any reaction at all – he was just too exhausted to care anymore. A thick gurgle made its way up Jay’s throat before manifesting as a sick sounding belch. In response, Jaylen buried his head even deeper in the toilet, his mouth hanging open in anticipation. Key quickly grabbed his boyfriend’s long hair to prevent possible damage, but the effort turned out unnecessary.

The intense wave of nausea passed as quickly as it had come, and Jaylen straightened up slightly. Groaning in frustration, he spit into the toilet, hoping the action would help move things along.

“Still nothing?” Key asked, actually a little disappointed.

Jay whined miserably in response. His head was pounding, his stomach felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out and he was getting light-headed from the constant dry heaving. If only he could finally bring something up, so he could start feeling better or at least somehow empty.

2 hours and 12 minutes. Key hadn’t known it was possible to lose feeling in your ass but apparently it was. At least this way it wasn’t actively hurting anymore so the blonde considered it a win.

His boyfriend on the other hand, was still slumped over the toilet. Even though wet, unrelieving burps were gurgling up his throat almost constantly now, he was still not able to actually bring anything up. Instead Jaylen was left panting over the bowl, eyes almost falling shut, as the dizziness and the fatigue were taking their toll. Key could only imagine how miserable he had to be feeling.

“Come on baby, let us go to bed. I will bring a bucket for you, just in case. You need some rest.” It wasn’t really a question anymore. Key couldn’t stand seeing his obviously ill boyfriend on the bathroom floor any longer. He needed some proper rest in a proper bed, rather than on the floor with his head in the toilet.

“But what if I make a mess?” Jaylen’s voice was shot from dry heaving, his volume barely above a whisper.

“Then I will clean it. Please, let us get up.” Key’s voice however was firm and left no room for argument.

Jaylen sighed in defeat. He knew his boyfriend was right, but he was just so damn tired. He didn’t want to move – unfortunately one look at the determined man in front of him confirmed that he had no choice.

So the sick singer used the toilet to push himself up on shaky legs. Key almost sighed in relief at the thought of finally going to bed when things took a turn for the worse.

Standing upright did nothing to help Jaylen. A wave of dizziness crashed over him so hard, he had to put both hands on Key’s broad shoulders to steady himself. Another burp forced its way out of his mouth – and with it came a thick wave of barely digested spaghetti carbonara. Neither of the two men reacted fast enough to prevent the mess so it landed in front of Key’s feet with a sickening splat.

Jaylen whirled around, crashing to his knees in front of the toilet, just before another slightly thinner wave of foul liquid fell into the toilet. Key was repulsed (Jay really needed to chew his food better), but one look at the brunette and Key was at his side in an instant, not even caring about the puddle of vomit he was now basically kneeling in. This was bad.

At first Jaylen hadn’t been able to start but now he couldn’t stop. Sour smelling liquid just kept pouring out of his mouth, giving the singer no time to breathe. Tears were streaming down his face, which was now bright red as he wheezed, desperately trying to take in a breath.

Key’s eyes widened – he had no idea how to help his ailing boyfriend. “Hey baby, listen to me, okay? You will be alright. I promise. I just need you to stay calm and try and breathe for me, okay?”

Jaylen tried. He really, really did. But his lungs weren’t cooperating. Everything hurt. His ears were ringing, and black spots were dancing in his vision.

Just before Jay was about to black out entirely, the spell tapered off and he could finally draw in a much-needed breath.

Key exhaled audibly. Thank God. But Jaylen was still struggling to catch his breath so the blonde did the only thing he could think of: he sat right behind Jaylen, pressing his own chest against his boyfriend’s heaving back and took a deep breath, encouraging the slightly smaller man to breathe with him.

It worked. Only a few minutes later, Jaylen was back to breathing normally. And, as Key realized, he was about to fall asleep, still braced against the toilet.

He chuckled, relieved to see that his boyfriend was doing okay. “Hey, sleepyhead. Feeling any better?”

“Mh.” Jay hummed sleepily. “‘think I just needed it out of my system. ‘m really tired.” He mumbled, his eyes already falling shut.

“Yeah, I can tell. Let us get you to bed then.” Key got up, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand. Once again, Jaylen got dizzy at the sudden motion but fortunately the vertigo passed quickly.

“How about you go to bed, and I will join you, right after I am done cleaning the floor, hm?” Key said, the wet spots on his knees unpleasantly reminding him of the vomit on the floor.

He got nothing more than an approving hum before his boyfriend slowly trudged into the direction of their bedroom. Key immediately got to work, cleaning as efficiently as ever.

Just as he was about to leave, he glanced at the clock.

2 hours and 41 minutes. That’s how long they’d been sitting on the bathroom floor. And now Key could finally go to bed.

#em writes #key #jaylen #my ocs #emeto

[yan-twst]

CYOA - Twisted Wonderland

aaand here it is, finally! Chapter one of my choose your own adventure fic for twst! This is the very first chapter; it’s a bit of a slow start, establishing the plot and all, you know? As was decided by the poll, the reader is in Diasomnia (however, I’m sure y’all can probably figure out a way to worm out of the dorm quickly and meet more characters). Anyways, without further ado, here’s the fic!

You sometimes wished that your dorm wasn’t so… Gloomy. Sure, Diasomnia had some cool things; the whole “Valley of Thorns Castle” aesthetic was cool, and the fact the hallways were lit with green torches always looked cool at night, not to mention the TVs and games in the common room, but… As you tried to study for the upcoming quiz, you quietly cursed the controlled climate. Yes, you knew that rain and storms were natural in the area; but didn’t the school control the dorm’s climate with fae magic?! It was way too difficult to concentrate on your potions notes when the rain outside felt like it was lulling you to sleep as it fell against your windows.

Your roommate was snoozing in his bed- either he’d already studied, or he’d given up on the quiz. Either way, you couldn’t deny that it was alluring to just forget the damn thing and go to bed. It wasn’t that late, but you’d been going to sleep at awful hours lately, and your body sorely demanded you get some sleep. And yet, glancing down at the recipe for the minor memory erasing draught you’d have to concoct tomorrow, you knew that if you went to sleep now, you’d be dealing with Crewel’s biting critique and a terrible grade tomorrow.

A snore from your roommate broke your concentration, and you glared at the sleeping boy. Usually you and him got along just fine, but in this moment, it felt like he was testing you, as he slept sweetly and your sleep deprived self stressed over a notebook. Hearing another snore, you decided to move to the common room- maybe there you’d concentrate a bit better, and also not be tempted by the siren’s call of your bed. Picking up your phone and your notebook, you left the room, closing the door softly so as to not disturb your roommate, and made your way down the eerie halls of the dorm.

“Vice dorm leader…?” immediately, you noticed that Lilia was in the common room. After that your nose registered a smell so odd it almost made you turn around and leave. It wasn’t a bad smell, just… Incredibly odd and off putting: and you quickly pinpointed the source of it to be some charred, blackened and bizarre dish that your vice dorm leader was holding. 

“Oh? Hello there.” he said with a chuckle. You wouldn’t call Lilia a close friend by any means, but you did know him well. As a vice dorm leader, he did his best to help out the Diasomnia students, and he was also fond of pulling small pranks here and there; you’d been a victim of his tricks and also gone to him for help a couple times in your two years of being at NRC. “It’s an odd hour to be hanging out… Or could it be the smell of my cooking that brought you here?”

“Your… cooking?” so that charred thing he was holding was… food? You’d been warned- mostly by your fellow second year Silver- that Lilia was not a good cook (in fact, Silver had made it seem like his food was somehow a health hazard), but you’d imagined the usual cooking oopsies. Too much salt, not enough seasoning, maybe burning some of the food; the usual mistakes people made when cooking. However, looking at the blackened and mysterious substance in the plate he held… You wondered if perhaps Silver had been right in making Lilia’s cooking sound like some sort of biohazard.

“Indeed, I’ve been cooking some cookies. I wanted to cheer Silver, since he’s been studying hard for a quiz. And there’s nothing quite like some cookies to snack on while studying, right?” said Lilia. Cookies…? You walked closer and squinted at the plate; so those were Lilia’s cookies…? You were pretty sure you could see eggshell shards on the otherwise charcoal black pieces of what you hoped was dough. Did he… Did he not see the problem with them?

“Oh, the potions quiz for tomorrow? Yeah, I’m sure he’s been studying… I doubt Crewel is going to go easy on us.” You said with a nervous laughter, trying to divert the topic from the so-called cookies. The last thing you wanted was for him to ask you to taste test or something. A bite of those cookies would probably take you out of commission for a good week or two, and while being sick to miss class tomorrow and avoid the quiz was tempting, you really weren’t sure if it was worth it to risk some crazy horrible food poisoning for that. 

“Fufu, you’re also working quite hard, I gather? Did you come to study here?” asked Lilia, pointing to your notebook. You nodded. 

“Mhm, my roommate was being a bit loud, so…” you shrugged with a smile. You weren’t gonna throw your roommate under the bus and tell Lilia he was snoring like a train and that drove you out of the room, you were at least kind enough to omit that particular piece of info. “Well, I’m probably just going to look over the notes a bit and then go to sleep. I can only study so much to make a potion without actually being at the lab, after all.”

“Ah, Silver did mention that Crewel was making you all make a draught from memory.” Lilia hummed. “Are you having trouble with this? I can always try to help, after delivering these delicious cookies to Silver.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly bother you with this, it’s ok, vice dorm leader!” you said, quickly shaking your head. You didn’t want to waste Lilia’s time; he was a third year, after all… If your work was hard as a second year, he was probably drowning in schoolwork and studying, right? Not to mention you kind of felt like you should show more respect to him: he was an ancient fae and you were pretty sure he was a war veteran despite being in high school. 

“Oh, please call me Lilia. We’ve known each other for too long for you to be using titles, (name). I still remember the day the magic mirror sorted you into Diasomnia, right after my dear Silver was sorted.” he said with a smile, his pointy fangs catching your eye. “You’re close friends with Silver, aren’t you? I’m quite grateful you spend time with him, he’s a good boy.”

“Oh, um, well… Then I’ll call you Lilia, if that’s really ok…” you said, a bit bashful. You didn’t miss how he talked about Silver; you knew that the 2nd year did constantly refer to Lilia as ‘old man’, but you’d brushed it off to perhaps him being close enough to Lilia to use that as a nickname, but… The way Lilia spoke, it almost sounded like a father being happy his son had found a friend. “Yes, me and Silver are close. We’re in the same class, I usually give him my notes when he falls asleep in the middle of lectures. He also helps me study, sometimes.”

“Oh, you do? I must thank you, then. It’s quite kind of you.” Lilia said with a smile. “Oh! How rude of me, I haven’t offered you a cookie, have I? They’re freshly baked, you should try them. It’s the same recipe I made for Silver when he was younger.”

“Er-!” you paled. Crap, this was what you’d been fearing. The stress of the request made you not even stop to think about the odd wording of ‘making cookies for Silver ever since he was younger’ or the implication Lilia had somehow raised Silver; your brain was blaring alarms telling you to NOT put those… Things anywhere close to your face. But at the same time, Lilia was smiling so happily as he picked one of the charred objects and stuck it out in your direction.

“Lilia. You shouldn’t be giving that to humans.” a deep voice made you freeze before you accepted the cookie with a reluctant hand. You quickly turned around to spot the dorm leader entering the common room, arms crossed as he stared at Lilia. “You’re going to kill them if you make them eat that.”

“Oh, come on Malleus, don’t say that! My cookies are delicious.” Lilia sighed, taking back his baked treat and taking a bite for himself. You internally cringed at the noise of what you now absolutely knew to be chunks of eggshell and god knows what else in the object. “Don’t you see you’ll give (name) a bad impression of my cooking if you say that?”

“... It’s my duty to protect my dorm members.” said Malleus, walking closer to you and warily eyeing Lilia’s cooking. You held back a sigh of relief- yup, he’d definitely saved you. If even Malleus Draconia was scared of Lilia’s hellish cookies, you probably would have keeled over and died if you’d put that in your mouth. “Besides, it’s late. Why were you baking?”

“I was making a treat for Silver, since he was studying. This little one just happened to walk in when the cookies were ready- they’re studying for the same quiz Silver is cramming for.” said Lilia, gesturing to you. “It seems Crewel is having his fun in stressing out the first years, fufu. What potion is he making you all make?”

“Oh, um, it’s… A minor memory loss draught. It’s got a lot of steps and ingredients, and it’s way too easy to mess up, so…” you said, a bit nervous. You felt… A little bit silly now, for stressing so much over it. Right now, you were surrounded by one of the strongest mages in the world- who was also the prince of the dark fae- and an ancient and wise fae who had probably fought in great wars and aided the Valley of Thorns royalty. To them, making a weak potion was probably as easy as blinking. 

“A memory loss draught… That does indeed have many steps to its preparation, if I’m not remembering wrong.” said Malleus. His words made you relax a little- you’d half been expecting some comment like a minor memory loss draught? That’s child’s play, why are you stressing out? or something. Your dorm leader was known to be a bit haughty at times. “You look exhausted. I assume you’ve been studying a lot?”

“Wait, I look tired…? Crap, is it showing in my face?” you said, cursing internally. You had a few friends in Pomefiore and you just knew they’d be fretting over you if your eyebags and exhaustion were so evident your dorm leader, who was not too good at picking up clues, could notice.

“I’m afraid so, my dear. You look like you’re ready to drop any second now- I know you’ve got a lot of work, but perhaps you’re pushing yourself too hard.” said Lilia. You grimaced; great, now you’d somehow managed to worry the two of them. It felt… Wrong to have two powerful and important beings even express concern over your wellbeing: you were just… Some puny human who got sorted into Diasomnia, you weren’t even particularly close to either of them. Hell, you’d only spoken to Malleus a couple of times before, for fuck’s sake.

“Hmm, Malleus, could it be that you still remember how to make that potion?” said Lilia, tilting his head. The taller fae nodded, making Lilia hum in understanding. “I see, I see. Well, (name), I’m sure you’d get an amazing grade if you were to study with Malleus. He’s quite good in potionmaking when he concentrates, I promise you. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt at all for him to get closer to his own dorm members now, would it?”

“That’s-!” you visibly stiffened, looking at Malleus. Sure, you weren’t as scared of him as some of the other students were, but…! You still couldn’t just treat him all willy-nilly like some random kid; he was one of the most powerful mages in the world and crown prince from the Valley of Thorns. The mere idea of dragging him off for a study session that benefitted only you made your gut twist. Although the idea was anxiety inducing, you couldn’t help but notice a spark of… Curiosity? In Malleus’ eyes, almost as if he was entertained by the idea of it all; still, you couldn’t just accept something like that.  “I couldn’t possibly-!”

“... or you could go study with Silver. I was going to go check up on him, so you could come with me.” said Lilia, perhaps sensing your panic. 

--- time to make a choice! vote in the poll linked below to choose how to advance in the story!

poll: https://www.strawpoll.me/20971117

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

[beca-mitchell]

you can think that you're in love (when you're really just in pain) (1/1)

anonymous said: Imagine a scenario where Beca never emerged from the water after the explosion, and Chloe was eventually brought to land. She stood on the harbour all night and all morning as search and rescue tried to locate her but they never found her. Chloe eventually moved on with Chicago at the urging of her friends and on the day of her wedding, Beca reappears. She was discovered washed up on a nearby shore with amnesia and was nursed back to health. Eventually finding her way back to Chloe.

*posted as text because i have issues w/ the ask/answer format and tagging

Notes: lmao i got carried away and i promise i only intended to respond to this ask in a short concise way, but here’s 1.7k words. title from “moral of the story”.

read below or on AO3.

* * * * *

"Chloe, you can’t stay out here all night.”

It is Chicago’s voice, soft and urgent, that lulls Chloe back into the present moment. Amidst the ringing in her ears, a product of being in such close proximity to an exploding boat. With disappointment, she scans the rippling water—water far too gentle for the turmoil she feels within her own body—to no avail.

Still no sign of Beca.

At this point, she feels increasingly helpless and even more poignant, she feels hopeless—a sentiment she never thought she’d feel when it came to Beca Mitchell. It’s just hard to really feel anything else at the moment because Beca isn’t standing there by her side.

Things had been frantic and unclear when they landed in the water. Chloe’s throat is still sore from both the copious amounts of water she swallowed and how loudly she had screamed for Beca, disoriented by the cold water and the darkness around them. She had felt various pairs of hands on her shoulders and arms—other Bellas to be sure—but she hadn’t felt Beca. And when they all had been pulled ashore eventually, first onto a rescue boat, then to blessed, solid land, Chloe had finally come to the conclusion that they had left Beca behind.

“We didn’t find her,” the search and rescue operations had told them. “We couldn’t find her—we’ll search again in the morning.”

Chloe couldn’t wait for morning.

“Chloe,” Chicago says again.

“We left her behind,” Chloe whispers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s...” Chicago hesitates when Chloe’s eyes cut to his with warning flaring up in them. “It’s just cold...and dark out there,” he tries. “It’s probably...”

“Stop,” Chloe whispers with a waver in her voice. “She’ll come. She has to.”

* * * * *

(More vivid than ever, a memory floats to the forefront of Chloe’s mind—Beca tentatively rounding the corner, hesitant and wary, showing up late to an acapella try-out. And all Chloe recalls is how relieved she had felt. How comforted. How happy because Beca had made it. Beca had made it and Chloe was happy.)

* * * * *

She doesn’t make it. She doesn't come. She doesn't wash ashore in some grand scene. Chloe doesn't sweep Beca into her arms and kiss her until the morning comes.

It's just...nothing.

* * * * *

It is incredible to Chloe how it only takes a few days to declare somebody missing when that person has a vibrant two—almost three—decades of life behind them. Life that Chloe was only so fortunate to share in for a brief period. Too short a period.

It is incredible how the words “legally missing” mean nothing and everything at the same time.

* * * * *

“Are you going to stay out here all night?”

Aubrey’s voice, soft and sincere, cuts through Chloe’s thoughts.

“What’s that?” Chloe murmurs, shaking some of the faint rushing from her head. It reminds her of waves gently rolling against an empty shore bringing her nothing but dashed dreams and disappointments.

"I asked if you're going to stay out here all night," Aubrey prompts again.

A part of Chloe wishes she could. It had felt remarkably draining to have to smile and accept congratulatory hugs from people she barely knew. Then to receive sympathetic looks from people she considered closer friends. “I’ll have to go back in soon. I mean—I should, shouldn’t I?” she murmurs, mostly asking herself at this point. She's sure Aubrey will respond regardless.

“It is your engagement party,” Aubrey points out, surprisingly delicate. “Chloe, I...” She doesn’t finish her thoughts, another surprising moment for Aubrey, but Chloe appreciates the brief reprieve from questioning and inquiry.

Chloe sighs, lifting her left hand from the balcony railing to look at the ring adorning her finger.

“Do you think...” Chloe swallows, unsure what she even wants to ask.

Do you think she’s out there still?

Do you think he’s right for me?

Do you think I’ll ever move on from loving her?

She has asked herself and others variations of these questions over the past year. One year of not having Beca Mitchell in her life. One year of not knowing whether Beca is even dead or alive. One year of constantly feeling relief and dread all at once with each passing day of the coast guard notifying them that they have yet to find Beca or, worse, her lifeless body.

One year of all the love for Beca welling up inside herself and nowhere to put it.

Chicago had seemed like a safe option. An option so safe that the result of her decision rests heavy on her finger, sparkling back at her like it dares to wink.

“You know it’s never too late, right, Chloe?”

“To do what?”

“To...to not marry him.”

It makes Chloe take pause as she contemplates Aubrey’s words. It’s true that she could just choose not marry Chicago, but he does, for all intents and purposes, make her happy. He makes her feel safe and cherished.

He loves her.

That fact is particularly important because if she’s being honest with herself, for as much as she remains distraught and hung up on Beca, she hadn’t truly known if Beca had loved her in return. Not in the way that Chloe had wanted all these years, at least.

(It seems almost like a cheap shot at Beca’s memory, however, because of course Beca had loved her. And Chloe had let herself fall deeper for Beca even though things remained unspoken between them. Beca had never been good with words, but Chloe had been one of the few people that had been privy to being let in by Beca herself. Privy to understanding Beca and everything she stood for. The things she didn’t say.)

“I love him,” Chloe finally responds, ignoring the way her voice wavers. “And he loves me. And we’re getting married because of that and nothing else.”

Aubrey says nothing. Instead, she pulls Chloe in for a hug, a long, comfortable hug, and lets Chloe cry on her shoulder.

* * * * *

Life has a weird way of somehow working out and yet completely throwing Chloe into a tailspin all at the same time. She is roused from sleep less than a week after her engagement party. She sighs, noting the empty space on the bed next to her. Chicago had left just the day before and she already misses the comforting sensation of feeling less alone upon waking up.

However, this morning she realizes belatedly that she has been roused from sleep due to the obnoxious buzzing of her phone on her bedside. She peers at the screen noting the unfamiliar number before she decides to let it go to voicemail, opting for more sleep instead.

She regrets that decision much later.

* * * * *

Chloe Beale? This is Dr. Carter from Mount Sinai in Manhattan. This might come as a shock to you but we have recently been working with authorities as a patient has come into our care and you were listed as one of the main contacts for her. We have a Beca Mitchell being attended to at this moment, having just been brought over from Europe where she had sustained a fairly serious head injury about a year ago. We can’t get into more details at the moment and we would appreciate it if you could make your way to New York as soon as possible. We are also reaching out to other contacts to make sure—

Chloe hits the replay button with a trembling finger.

Chloe Beale? This is Dr. Carter—

She can’t believe what she’s hearing.

—patient has come into our care—

It feels like a dream and a nightmare all rolled into one. She feels sick, she feels nauseous, she feels—

—have a Beca Mitchell being attended to at—

She collapses onto her bed, staring in shock at her phone, now loosely grasped in her hand. The faint echo of the voicemail calls out to her, but she can barely force herself to move. To function. To breathe.

When she finally comes to her senses, Chloe takes a gasping breath, clasping a hand over her mouth to stop the sob that threatens to escape.

“Beca,” she whispers, testing the name aloud on her lips for the first time in a long time.

Beca is home.

* * * * *

“Miss, are you going to go in?”

Chloe lifts her head from where she had been watching her foot scuff the floor of the bright hospital tile. She feels exhausted and drained already, mostly from the flight from California to New York, where she had spent most of it on the verge of throwing up and also on the verge of crying. She hadn’t expected this—had dreamed of it—to fall into her lap. She hadn’t prepared. She hadn’t even given herself a chance to decide what she wanted to say to Beca.

“I—” Chloe takes in the sympathetic expression on the nurse’s face. Like the nurse understands the turmoil she is going through at this moment. She fiddles with the ring on her finger, her hand jammed into the pocket of her sweater. “I should just...” she clears her throat. She knows she can’t wait outside forever.

She never wants Beca to be waiting for her.

“Can I?” she asks timidly, placing a hand on the door.

“You can. I’ll just take the paperwork,” the nurse says kindly. He gently takes the paperwork Chloe had filled out while waiting and guides her with a hand outstretched towards the room, gesturing at her to go in. “She was asking for you, you know?”

At that, Chloe feels unmistakable tears well up in her eyes and she twists before he can see anything else on her face. To twist however, is to enter the room completely where she comes face-to-face with Beca Mitchell for the first time in a year. She couldn’t stop the gasping breath that escapes her even if she had foresight to do so. Beca looks up, startled, looking paler and thinner than Chloe remembers, but very much alive.

“Chloe,” Beca rasps. She clears her throat, a hint of colour returning to her cheeks. “Chloe,” she tries again, clearer than before. “You’re here,” she says, awe tainting her voice.

Chloe breaks, rushing towards the bed into Beca’s outstretched arms, nestling herself in the feeling of home.

She feels nothing except the warmth of Beca’s body against her. Nothing except of how tightly Beca’s hands tangle into her hair, holding her close. Nothing, not even the press of the cool metal band around her finger.

Just Beca, in her arms, like she had dreamt of all this time.

fin.

#bechloe #pitch perfect #beca mitchell #chloe beale #you can think that you're in love #my fanfic #mine #bechloe fic

[star-spangledstud]

Like You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (Female) Reader.

Word Count: 2800-ish.

Summary: Steve has a really shitty way of saying goodbye. 

A/N: My friend sent me the prompt: “If I knew then what I know now.”. I decided to play around with it and then this happened. 

Warnings: Angst at its finest. Such brief mentions of sex you hardly notice them. Heartbreak. 

You didn’t understand why he didn’t come back to you like he was supposed to. 

It wasn’t like the two of you didn’t have a solid relationship. You complemented each other when you walked into the room, the perfect blend of two different people that had come together as one. You hardly argued, barely even disagreed on matters that concerned the both of you and you never got sick of each other’s company. You were complete, whole when you were with him and he was with you. 

You ate together, trained together, slept together in the same bed night after night. Even as the world burned after the big Snap, you stayed together, thankful every day for the fact that the both of you had made it out alive. You mourned the loss of friends together, tried to overcome the holes in your hearts together. It was an obstacle in the road that paved the way for your lives and you faced it together. When everyone was brought back, you couldn’t have been more grateful, because five years of learning how to rebuild everything had made the two of you stronger, more aware of how much you needed each other to survive. Most importantly, it made you aware of how all you needed to survive was each other. 

A power couple, that’s what they called you. Sun and moon, yin and yang. The perfect balance of work and play, of fun and professionalism. You kept each other moving, kept one another going with words of encouragement and wisdom, forced each other out of bed after half the world had literally vanished in the blink of an eye. It hadn’t been easy, but you expected the strain on your relationship to have been much worse. You got off easy compared to many other people. 

When the two of you first caught wind of the possibility to bring everybody back, of course, you jumped on the bandwagon. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to see your best friends again, for things to go back to the way they were. You knew it would be hard because people had moved on, started new relationships, new careers and had moved house, but you had faith that humanity could overcome it.

You still got chills when you thought of the orange portals that signaled everyone’s return. The distant memory of seeing the people you thought you’d never see again in the flesh for the first time in five years still brought prickly tears to the corners of your eyes, as did the knowledge that Natasha and Tony had given their lives to make it happen. They sacrificed their lives so you could have yours.

You hardly had time to notice the sudden change in Steve’s behavior. You were so busy trying to reintegrate half the population into the current day, that the two of you spent less and less time together. You were in charge of bringing back the positions of SHIELD agents that had vanished and offered your help to them both professionally as well as privately. Some of them had lost their families because they’d moved on and it was very hard on them to realize that five years of life had simply passed them by. 

Steve had been talking about retirement for years. You knew he wanted to finally lay down the shield once and for all and the two of you had been talking about it more and more as time progressed. Finally, he decided to bring the team back to its former glory, to rebuild the facility and to find new possible recruits, before he’d finally call it quits forever. 

Before that could be done, the Infinity Stones had to be returned to their respective timelines. Of course, he was the one to suggest to do it. You’d honestly be surprised if he didn’t offer to do it himself. You told him it was okay because you trusted him and trusted his judgment and if he felt like he could complete the mission successfully, you would stand behind him and support him because that’s what good girlfriends did. 

You remembered the way he gently kissed you before stepping onto that godforsaken platform all too well, the way his hand caressed the side of your face and hair, the squeeze in your shoulder. It was a kiss unlike any of the ones you’d ever shared before, not even the ones he gave you after Tony’s funeral, filled with grief, sadness and need. No, this one was different. You didn’t know it at the time, but you did know it when looking back. 

He was telling you goodbye.

“No,” you cried, “no, no, no!” 

Your arms and legs flailed miserably, chest heaving rapidly up and down in irregular motions. Bucky cringed with how horribly upset and distraught you were, unsure of what the hell he should do about you crying beneath him.

He was sitting on the edge of your bed, rubbing your back in soft, circular motions while you hugged your pillow tight to your chest. Your face was red, tip of your nose glowing and your cheeks were so puffy you looked almost like a clown. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t think words could suffice or make you feel any better. He was probably right. 

“Why?” You choked out, “Why did he leave me?” 

You could hardly breathe without Steve. 

Bucky could hardly understand what you were saying. Every word came out in hiccups, forced to the surface by the tension in your lungs and contracting chest. For a long moment, you stopped breathing. Bucky panicked immediately. His pulse quickened and grip on you tightened. Then, you took a deep, panicked breath of air with a high pitched cry.

All you could think of was Steve, how he glanced at you from his spot in the dead center of the platform. How his lips tightened into a sad line, how his brow creased and his eyes closed just before he disappeared on you forever. You should have fucking known, but how could you? He was everything you ever wanted and you thought you were the same to him. He never even gave you the indication that he was unhappy, that he didn’t love you. That he was going to leave you for her. 

“Shh,” Bucky cooed, “It’s gonna be okay.”

Sam showed up at the door, which stood slightly ajar. His head peaked in, eyes following your heaving body and Bucky’s slouched form before resting on his face. Bucky shook his head. Sam quietly left. There was nothing he could do to ease the pain one of his best friends had caused you.

“Get some sleep,” he told you quietly after your sobs had silenced.

“Don’t leave me,” you managed to whimper, grabbing hold of his flesh arm and pulling it down with you.

You needed human contact, couldn’t stand the thought of being alone after being left by the love of your life.  

“Of course,” he replied, biting the inside of his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, sugar.” 

You slept with Bucky by your side that night, still dressed in the clothes you’d put on while Steve was still lounging in bed that morning. The make-up you’d put on while Steve was in the shower had mostly come off on your sheets and on Bucky’s left shoulder. You clutched his shirt while you dreamt of Steve in short bursts, the desperate need for comfort so dire that you refused to let the man leave when he tried. He was angry too, angry with his best friend for putting the woman he loved so much through such pain. 

You cried as soon as you woke up the next morning, hand sore from fisting Bucky’s shirt all night. Your head hurt terribly, a pressure had built up behind your eyes overnight and it worsened as the day continued. Bucky eventually managed to leave you alone so he could get changed and talked to Steve, who was now an old man instead of the man who’d taken you to Paris on your first anniversary. 

You became indifferent to the saying ‘time heals all wounds’, because it no matter how many days passed you by, it never seized to hurt. Every little thing that reminded you of Steve would send you in a downward spiral. People recognizing you on the street for once being the most beloved Avenger began to walk around you with a wide arch because even they could tell something was terribly wrong with you. Soon enough, they all knew what had happened.

You hardly slept, because images of Steve dancing with Peggy haunted you all night long. Images of him, telling you he’d chosen her instead of you would flood your mind, along with pictures of the two of you when you were happy. You began to question it, all of it and wondered often what would’ve happened if you had been the one to join Tony on his journey back to the 70s instead of him. You wondered if he’d still be here, sleeping soundly next to you with his arms engulfing you in warmth. Now, there was only cold. 

You didn’t have the energy to be productive anymore. Life without Steve was no life and the void of his existence had taken away the importance of everyday tasks for you. Literally, everything you came in contact with reminded you of him, from the cereal you used to eat together to the movies you would watch. You couldn’t go to your favorite coffee place anymore, because that’s where you went to get his morning cup on the weekends. You couldn’t even stand to look your fellow teammates in the eye. They’d become afraid to be around you, walking on eggshells when you ventured out of the depths of your room for food because they were scared of saying the wrong thing. It happened once when Bruce made a comment towards Sam’s shield. His shield. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he said as he watched Bucky carry you back to your room, “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“It’s not your fault,” Wanda assured him, “She’s in a lot of pain right now. It could’ve been any of us.”

“Can’t we do something?” Sam asked, hands on his head. 

Wanda shook her head, “We can support her, but she needs time to heal.”

You never knew heartbreak could cause physical pain, but the constant strain on your heart was exhausting. You went through entire boxes of Ibuprofen to ease the constantly looming headaches, but they did very little to ease the dull throbbing of the back of your head. Your eyes were red constantly and your skin didn’t glow anymore. Everything had dulled like Steve had taken your life light with him back to the past, engulfing you in complete darkness.

You’d never find someone like him again because nobody compared to him. 

You often reminisced the good times you experienced with him by your side. The fun you had while sparring in the gym room, climbing on his back as he tried to push you to the floor. You thought back to the many dates you had, fancy candlelit dinners inside of expensive restaurants that involved your favorite flowers at the beginning of the night and passionate sex at the end. You remembered holidays, Tony’s extravagant parties that were mostly just you and him eye-fucking each other in fancy clothing with champagne on your breaths until it was late enough for you to bail so you could fuck for real. 

It was holding his hand, kissing him hard and long on his beautiful mouth before he had to leave for missions that sometimes lasted far too long for both your liking. Placing fingers on his thigh while he was driving and toying with the soft fabric of his jeans higher and higher until he couldn’t take it anymore. It was walking on the beach early enough to see the sunrise and long drives back on the back of his motorcycle, safely hidden away from the world behind tinted helmets.

Now, there was nothing. No hand-holding, no joking around, no fucking each other in the storage closet because you couldn’t wait to get back to your room on the top floor. Nothing but emptiness, cold and dreadful and tiring like a weighted blanket made of snow that refused to thaw under your own body temperature. 

Even when you finally decided to become more active again did the emptiness not leave you. It followed you around like a ghost, always lingering in every corner of every room you entered. Bucky felt sympathy for you, but even he couldn’t help you. You had to pull yourself from the depths of the ocean by yourself, had to swim back to the surface without a life vest or oxygen tank strapped to your back and you constantly felt like you were going to drown. Maybe you already had and this was your purgatory. 

You couldn’t help but regret it sometimes. Getting together with him. It was when that looming darkness engulfed you that you allowed yourself to regret ever getting to meet him. You’d lay in bed at night and pray to the Gods to turn back time just once, allow yourself to make the choice that would’ve prevented you from getting to learn who Steve Rogers was because that choice ultimately led you to fall in love with him.  If only you knew then what you knew now.

You sat by the fireplace alone now, staring at the smoldering embers and the flames that licked slowly burning wood. You watched the trees move in the wind by yourself now, watched the rain drip against the window panes with your knees pulled up to your chest. How could loving Steve Rogers hurt so fucking bad?

“How you holding up, kiddo?” Bucky asked, taking a seat beside you on the couch that directly faced the window. 

“I’m alright,” you responded, voice raspy and dry. 

He offered you a glass of water, which you took gladly. At least someone cared about you despite your efforts to push everyone away.

“I talked to him this morning,” he said finally, “he misses you, I think. Might even regret his decision to leave.” 

Your eyes flicker to Bucky, then fall back on the fireplace, “I miss him too.”

“He asked how you were doing,” he said carefully.

“What did you say?”

Bucky exhaled, “I didn’t lie.”

A comfortable silence fell over you, allowing you to listen to the crackling of the fire and Bucky’s breathing beside you. Sometimes, no words needed to be said for them to be exchanged. You toyed with the shaggy blanket over your lap, twirling the fabric between your fingers. 

“I don’t think he has a lot of time left.” 

You scooted closer to him, allowing your head to rest on top of his torso. He patted your head and drew circles in your hair while you rested your eyes for a moment. You hardly slept the night before and were beginning to feel drowsy. You started napping frequently, finding sleep wherever and whenever you could because your bed was too empty and too large at night. 

“Will you come with me?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I will,” he said, nodding although you couldn’t see it, “I’ll come with you.”

“When?” 

Bucky’s shoulders rose, “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll make time.” 

Maybe you should’ve known that he’d go back to her if the opportunity arose. You’d heard stories, of course, Bucky had told you enough. Steve didn’t talk about her much, except for after her funeral, which he attended alone without telling you. You should’ve known it then with how messed up he was after her death. Should have known that he’d never been able to really get over her. You couldn’t even really blame him, either. She’d been ripped from him when he went into the ice and was already on her deathbed by the time he woke up. For her, a lifetime had gone by. To him, it felt like seconds. It’s how Bucky must’ve felt when he came back after the Snap.

Sitting with him on the couch, you weren’t sure if you would’ve changed things. You had a lot of good times with Steve, they largely overshadowed the bad. He’d made you a stronger person, made you appreciate your talents and weaknesses for what they were and he never made you feel less than your worth. He was a good man, you knew it deep down, but accepting that you might not have been good enough for him was a wound that would never heal, not even as you took your last breath.

Still, a small shimmer of hope began to grow somewhere deep within your chest like a seed had been planted. Laying with Bucky in silence, watching the rain pitter-patter against the window, made you think one thought before sleep engulfed you properly for the first time in months.

Maybe things were the way they were meant to be. 

#steve rogers imagine #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagines #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #captain america imagine #captain america #captain america smut #captain america fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #jammywrites #steve rogers angst #captain america angst

[marveloussupernerd]

Ohhh Jumin with 1 for the Christmas prompts please? This local channel has a Hallmark Christmas movies marathon for the entire of December, I watched it when I can to get in the mood (and because I look for Jumin's alike in the love interest 👀). Thanks!

I wasn’t going to write this tonight but then I realized it was the exact brainless thing I needed rn. Everyday at 12 pm my mom gets excited and turns on Hallmark. It is on until 7 pm at least. So I know my hallmark

ALSO did you find Jumin’s alike ? Literally tell me what movie if so

Hallmark Movies - Jumin Han

This is from my Christmas / winter prompts !

Prompt: If you watch one more hallmark movie I’m pulling the plug on the TV

Warnings: this is a dumb warning but i talk abt the plot of some hallmark movies lol

Summary: you have to find some sort of pastime for when your husband is working. So it’s Hallmark. Glued to the couch all holiday season. Jumin hates when you swoon over those fictional men

You had December down like clockwork.

In the end of the year swing, C&R was constantly busy. They had to meet and surpass their yearly quotas. Your husband was always in meetings. This was the first time since getting married early that year that you had regretted your decision to become a stay-at-home housewife.

Jumin got ready for work at 6 am. His alarm went off at 5:50 so that he could wake up and get a few cuddles with you in bed before actually getting up. You woke up with him, planting kisses on his cheeks and asking for his daily itinerary and when you could expect him home for more cuddles. When he got up, you’d message the chef to start making him food. Jumin would tell you to stay in bed.

Jumin liked bringing you tea in bed in the mornings. Made him feel like the perfect husband. He’d get a kettle going as he got dressed and checked for any messages he may have gotten during the night. He’d deliver the tea to you, on a tray. You’d pour him a cup. He’d sit on the end of the bed and drink it. Talk about silly things.

He’d finish his cup, messaging Driver Kim he was ready for him. You’d tie his tie for him. He’d give you a goodbye kiss or two. He left by 6:45 am. You fell back asleep by 7 am, after Jumin messages you that he got to work safely.

You wake back up around 9. This time the chef brings up your breakfast. You’d lounge around in bed, answering emails for party guests, talking to the RFA, going on social media.

You were out of bed by 10:15, getting dressed, doing hair and/or makeup as you saw fit for the day. Jumin liked to lay out two outfits for you. If you didn’t want to wear either of them, that was fine. But if you did, it made him glow with pride.

You’d meet Jumin in his office for lunch together at 11. He’d tell you about the meeting he went to and Jaehee would sometimes come in and chat (which Jumin glared at her for doing). But primarily it was couples’ time. You liked to sit in silence, just enjoying each others’ company. At 11:30 you would head back to the penthouse.

And finally it was noon. Hallmark time. Since your husband worked long hours, you relied on the sexy Hallmark men to fill the void in your household. You laughed, you cried, you watched the same story over and over again but it was so special every time. As soon as Jumin got home, you’d turn off the movie and spend time with him, whether that be reading, cuddling, having dinner, going out somewhere; you let him choose. You didn’t feel the need to have a say. You already got to choose what you’d do throughout the day: Hallmark.

But one day Jumin got sick. Runny nose turned red from all the tissues he had been using, cups of tea gone through to help his sore throat. He was sick and absolutely unfit to go to the office. The schedule was messed up. He insisted he could take at least a half day, going in late and leaving early, and work from his home office. Okay. It was already 11. You’d just watch Hallmark when it came on.

Once the time came, Elizabeth the III sat on your lap (you were convinced she liked the movies too) and you cuddled up to watch the show.

Your phone rang. It was Jumin. You couldn’t pause the show.

You picked up regardless. “Hi Love. How are you feeling?” You asked.

He sniffled. “Bad. But I’m on my lunch break,” his tone brightened.

“...oh.” You hadn’t intended to say that aloud.

“Oh?”

“I’m watching a Hallmark movie with Elizabeth the III in the living room. Why don’t you come out here and eat with me?” Compromise. Elizabeth the III being on your lap meant you couldn’t possibly move.

“Okay! I’ll be right there.” He sounded cheery.

He came out of his office, a few tissues in hand, but a smile on his face. He had dark circles under his eyes. “You two look so cute,” he commented, walking over and taking a spot to sit next to you, wrapping his arms tight around you. He was always more clingy when he was sick.

“You’re so sweet Jumin. What do you say we ask the chef for some soup?” You kissed his cheek. He chuckled, which led to a coughing fit, then nodded.

“What’s happening in this Hallmark movie?”

“Oh!” You were only a half hour in, but you were excited to share the plot. “I’m so glad you asked. So this news reporter lady says she hates Christmas. And the ratings are bad because everyone thinks she sucks because of it. So the news station is sending her to a Christmas town to bring back her holiday cheer. She just got to the town,” you summarized. Kind of strange they were airing a movie from 2016, and one with Lori Loughlin at that (they had pretty much stopped showing her movies), but this was indeed a classic.

“Christmas town? Do those really exist?” Jumin asked curiously.

“I don’t know. Shh- this is the love interest!”

“He isn’t all that handsome,” Jumin commented. You glared at him. “What!? I’m just surprised they didn’t cater to their female audience more.”

“Jumin, my love. These stories are not just about the hot guys. They’re about the romance! The Christmas spirit! The holiday magic! If I just wanted one about hot guys I would watch the one with the firefighters.”

He seemed confused by your intense knowledge of hallmark movies. But! They were so good. You were so invested. And how dare he insult the love interest!

There was a knock on the door. The soup was brought over to the two of you on the couch. You thanked the staff and sent them off.

“I’m just confused about-“

“Shut up and eat your soup Jumin,” you teased. “Get ready to experience true romance.”

He didn’t experience much true romance in the half hour lunch break. But you had a great time with that movie.

Next up: A Christmas Detour. You loved Candace Cameron Bure! This time she was trying to get a flight to meet her fiancé’s parents before the wedding. But of course, her fiancée worked way too much for her to actually end out with him. This was Hallmark after all.

Jumin interrupted halfway through this one. His tie was off, his top button undone. “Baby?” He called to you, standing in the doorway of his office.

You rushed by his side. “What’s wrong?” You placed your hand to his forehead to feel his temperature. He was kind of warm. “Are you okay?”

“Will you make me some tea?” His voice was hoarse. You felt so bad that he was overworking himself even when he was sick. It was 3 by now; how long was he planning to work?

“Of course I will.” You kissed his cheek. “Why don’t you rest for a few minutes while I make it?”

He groaned, agreeing, and plopped down on the couch while you went off to the kitchen to make the tea.

“Why are the people different?” He called to you. He must be watching the Hallmark movie.

“Oh! It’s another one.” You got to work putting the kettle on and taking out the cream and sugar. You walked back to stand by him as you waited.

She finally made it to meet the parents! What an exhausting journey. Ew... they seemed kind of... stuck up. Rich. Filthy rich. Did they really ask her to go to the bathroom and make herself more presentable before they did introductions? How terrible.

“They always make the rich people seem like bad guys,” Jumin grumbled.

You sat down on the arm of the sofa, leaning into him, running a hand through his hair. “Actually, there are some where the girl ends up with the CEO.”

“Her current boyfriend that she leaves is usually the CEO though.” Had he been paying attention to these movies? How did he know this?

“Well... that’s only the ones who work way too much and are like zero fun at all. Then she falls for the local guy,” you explained.

He turned to look at you, eyes all red and watery. “Do I work way too much?”

“No.” You gently placed a kiss to his lips. “You are nothing like those jerks.” The tea kettle whistled; you got up to go get it. “If local homebody was my type, I would have gone for Zen, not you,” you called over your shoulder.

You hadn’t realized he had followed you until his arms wrapped around you as you took the tea off. “Zen’s not your type,” he whispered, his voice a bit deeper than usual. Was he... jealous? You were literally his wife.

“I know,” you turned to face him. “You’re my type. I’m quite literally married to you.” You broke out into a smile, reminding yourself of that fact. Your smile was apparently contagious, because he did the same.

“You never considered dating him though... right?”

“Zen?” You poured the tea in the cup.

“Zen.” His voice was steely.

You giggled. “Of course not. Zen is literally dating himself all the time. I was attracted to you because of how different you are from the others in fact.”

That had convinced him. His face softened. You handed him his tea. “Exactly to your liking,” you smiled.

“I love you. I’ve got two more meetings then I’m all done.” He kissed your cheek then made his way back to the office. Time for more Hallmark.

( YALL MY UPDATE FINALLY HAPPENED ITS SO HARD TO FINISH WRITING THIS AND NOT RUN TO BE 2 JUMIN HAn )

That movie had ended. “A Christmas Love Story” was now on. These two meetings must have been long.

And finally. Finally. He came out. Collapsed onto the couch. You glanced at him and smiled. Then back at the tv. Things were getting tense in the movie!!

“I’m done,” he whispered, a lazy smile on his face as he looked at you.

You glanced at him again. “Yay. I’m so proud of you Honey.”

“Another Hallmark movie?” He sighed.

“This is what I do all day when you’re at work,” you informed him, giggling.

“But I’m not at work. I’m home now.” He scooted closer to you.

“But! I’m in the middle of it. The guest choir director just found out the kid who is getting a solo is her son that she put up for adoption! That’s insane.”

His arms wrapped around you, one hand lingering towards the remote.

“Jumin don’t turn it off!” You whined. He snatched the remote and moved away from you. “Nooooo!”

“Can’t we just cuddle and take a nap? I still don’t feel good.” His finger was hovering over the off button. NO

“Jumin, Baby, please, please, no.” You inched closer to him. “I’m begging you. Please. I need to know what happens.”

“She gets with the love interest and everything ends happily,” he stated simply.

“I need the details! Please!!! I’ll do anything!”

That got his attention.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Anything?”

“Oh get your mind out of the gutter. You’re sick.” You rolled your eyes. Still, you were planning how to get the remote back.

“What about when I’m not sick? Can I cash it in then?” He had the widest smirk on his face. Sometimes you just hated your husband.

“Yes! God, yes Jumin fine. Please! Be quiet and let me watch this in peace!”

He set down the remote. You were safe.

“Fine. But if you watch one more hallmark movie I’m pulling the plug on the TV.”

You laughed at that. Of course you wouldn’t. You just wanted to watch this one, then he’d have your attention.

“Cuddles?” He asked. He was pitiful. You loved your sick husband oh so much though.

You sighed, pretending like it was an impossible hassle, but your smile gave it away. “Yes. Cuddles are okay.”

He triumphantly laid down, resting his head on your lap, grabbing onto your hand. You might’ve watched Hallmark for the rest of the night, but he was watching something much better: you.

#mystic messenger #mysme #Jumin han #Christmas #okay bye now gonna play the be2 thing

[anythingandeverything1d]

IV

“Just set it down to the left of the drums.” You nodded and pulled the massive speaker in the direction Mitch had pointed. After half the crew had gotten sick, you promised Harry you would help out. You thought it would be working with the lighting crew and practicing light placement for tonight but instead you had ended up sweaty, sore, and constantly moving heavy equipment on and around stage. Thankfully, it was only a few hours from showtime and most of the equipment was ready to go for the concert. 

You wandered off stage to Mitch who high fived you with a smile. “Great work today (y/n), Harry said you were tough, but you have some serious muscles.”

You laughed and held up your arm. “I know, I know.” 

He smiled and Harry walked up in front of you dressed in his yellow t-shirt, brown pants and yellow sunglasses. He looked like the golden king, or maybe a ray of sunshine with the dimpled smile he currently held. “Please don’t shoot, I have no power against guns like those.” He laughed and Mitch shook his head Cleary not finding the joke as amusing as Harry had. “Oh come on Mitchell. That was a good one!?”

Mitch just laughed and walked off to finish instructing where the guitars went. Harry turned to you and smiled. You laughed at him and the joke and shook your head slightly. “I thought it was funny H.”

“Thank you, I’m glad someone did.” Harry yelled looking back at Mitch who just waved his hand without turning around. Harry’s eyes were focused on Mitch still when you grabbed his attention.

“Hello?” Harry turned with an amused look on his face. “I’ve been helping all day and you're paying attention to Mitch? Really?” You were only partly serious. You wanted Harry’s attention but you really hadn't mind helping. You were more than excited to be a part of something Harry cared so much for, especially since you were able to watch front row tonight and could say that you set up the perfect placement for pictures.

Harry smirked and tugged you against his chest. “I so very much appreciate you helping today babe. Thank you.” His lips pressed briefly to yours before pulling away as you swayed backwards. He looked at you with a concerned look as he held you forward. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...just got a little dizzy.”

“When was the last time you had some water?” His hand was pressed to your forehead. “You feel warm...”

“Uhm...I don't know maybe...lunch?” You yawned and looked up at him, your eyes catching on his. His green eyes were full of anxiety and concern. 

“Come with me.” He grabbed your hand pulling you backstage to his dressing room. He sat you on the couch and pulled out his phone. “

What are you doing?” you asked, trying to look over at the screen.

“I’m making sure you don't get more dehydrated than you already are.”

“How?”

“She will be here in a few minutes. You need water now though.”

“Who’s she?”

“My nurse.”

“Why would your nurse be coming?”

“Because Im going to have her give you an IV so you're able to actually safely watch the show tonight.”

“No.” “(y/n).”

“No Harry. I don’t need an IV. I just need some water. Water fixes everything. No IV needed see?” you grabbed a bottle off the table and downed most of it. “Feeling better already.”

Harry sighed and then smiled at his phone. “She’s here.”

“No. No no no. Harry you can tell her to leave. Im okay.” your voice came out anxious and very very fast. It was almost a mumbled sentence.

Harry walked out and returned a few minutes later with his nurse. She set up her things next to the couch and smiled at you. You felt yourself pale. You HATED needles. It was actually probably a phobia. You stood up, walking to the door. Harry’s hand grasped your wrist and he sat you back on the couch. “Babe you need this okay? I don't want to worry about you fainting while I’m on stage.”

“Really. I’m fine. I-I don't need this. It’s unnecessary.” You were shaking now. You felt a little nauseous and you weren't sure if it was the idea of a needle in your arm or the dehydration. Probably a little of both. 

Harry sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your hand. “Trust me it’s not that bad.”

You looked at him, your eyes begging him to let you go. Not that he was holding you against your will but he was holding you there emotionally. The nurse rubbed your other arm with a wipe. Your hear rate increased. You could feel it pounding against your chest. You stood up and shook your head. “You know what I’m okay. I’ll just skip the show. Meet you at home later? I’m not feeling well.”

Harry shook his head, pulling you onto his lap. “This is going to help you I promise.” His arms tightened around your body and and his fingers trailed up your arm. His lips pressed into your neck. You took a deep breath and momentarily sank back into him. Until the nurse actually brought the needle to your arm. You pushed through his arms and jumped up, your skin crawling and tears in your eyes. 

“No. No. Stop.” You were crying now. Harry was following you and pulling you into a hug. 

“Shh..it’s okay babe. You’re okay.” Harry held you tightly, rubbing your back and  whispering soft words. Your heart eventually slowed to a more normal pace and you were able to breathe again, that is until he held out your arm. You felt the needle enter and you nearly dropped to the floor. Harry’s arm was supporting you and you were crying harder again as you watched her tape the IV off. “(y/n) shhh.” Harry tried calming you but nothing was working. “The needle isn't even in your arm anymore...” You weren't stopping so he carefully dropped to the couch, pulling you with him. Your face buried in his shoulder, his arms rubbing circles into your back.

You were exhausted, and while the IV was actually helping you feel better your eyelids still felt heavy. They dropped close and you fell asleep. When you opened your eyes, Harry’s head was back on the couch, his mouth open. He was asleep as well. You looked at your arm and noticed the IV had been removed. You carefully stood up, your body no longer dizzy or off balance. Your eyes however were red and puffy from crying. Harry shifted and you looked over. His eyes opened and he smiled, sitting up. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Better.” you smiled. He stood up, walking over and kissing you.

“Better?”

“Yeah.” Harry grinned and gave you the look and you laughed. “Don’t say it okay? I already know...”

“Then say it.” he laughed.

“Fine...” you laughed kissing him once. “You.” you kissed him harder. “Were.” Another kiss pressed against his lips. “Right.” you whispered, your lips against his ear. 

Harry laughed and kissed you back. “Thank you love.” He pulled away and smirked as you whined. “I have a show to get ready for.”

“But-”

“No no.” Harry laughed. “No buts. You have to be front and center tonight for the show you set up.”

You grinned and nodded heading for the door. “See you soon H.”

“I’ll be looking for you when I come out.” he answered with a wink.

---

A short blurb for the request I got which was based initially off of our love getting an IV. Hope you enjoy! xoxo

#one direction #directioners #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagines #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb

[jawritter]

The Arrangement

Part 13

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Dealing with suicide attempt! heavy discripion of suicided attempt! angst, sick reader, this one is another heavy y’all, if things dealing with suicide or death bother you, you might want to skip this one, I’m sure there is some lanuage in there to.

Word Count: 1843

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

Death was easier than you imagined it would be. Nothing was there to hurt you anymore. Just inescapable blackness. 

The last thing you remembered before your eyes closed, was Jensen's face shining on your phone. 

Then it was all quite, all black..

"Y/N!! Baby come back to me please!!" 

Jensen? Why can I hear Jensen, he's not dead.

"Please... My wife... I need help.. She wont wake up..  I think she's..."

No.. No.. This can't be happening.He sounded hurt, he was crying too much, he wasn't supposed to be upset that you were gone. 

You tried to open your eyes with every fiber of strength you had left in your body, but your body won't respond. Jensen’s voice seemed to get further and further away from you as everything faded back to that inescapable blackness.

The next time you sort of became conscious  there was an excessive amount of noise. Were you in a car? There was no way to know, because you still couldn't make your eyes open. You could feel someone holding on tight to your hand, Jensen?

"Sir, we need you to calm down. You're not going to help her by going to pieces. Everything is going to be fine."

Next flash back to yourself, nothing made sense. You could hear an annoying beeping coming from somewhere you couldn't pinpoint. Warmth wrapped around your body. Someone laying next to you in a very small space. Brushing your hair with their hand. Had you died? Was all this a hallucination?

Once everything fades to black again, it seems to stay that way for a long time. You couldn't make sense of the flashes of 'reality' that seemed to flash before you. Then just as quickly get taken away. 

Or were they just a dream?

The first thing you really know is that everything hurts. Your throat feels like it was ripped to shreds.Your muscle ache as if you'd been in a fight, and even though you have slept for God knows how long you feel exhausted. 

Oh and you're still alive... That much makes sense now...

"Baby? Baby, are you going to wake up for me?"

Jensen's voice sounded really close to you.You could feel his body heat wrapped around you in the uncomfortable hospital bed, and you wanted more than anything to just melt into it and stay there. 

He kept brushing at your hair and moving you around, attempting to wake you up, so you forced your eyes to open. At first, all you could see was a blur, then everything started to come into focus. 

Looking over next to you, you find Jensen's face. He looked horrible laying in the bed next to you. His eyes were red, very red and swollen. He looked pale, his hair was a mess. There were big black circles underneath his eyes.The freckles that dusted over his skin stood out more than they normally did in the crappy hospital light. He looked like he’d been through hell.

Putting his hands on the side of your face as your eyes meet his.Tears started to streak down his face before he pulled you tight to him.

"Oh my God sweetheart, I'm so, so, sorry!!!"

You couldn't make your voice work.Your throat was too sore, so you just laid there in his arms crying with him. You couldn't believe he'd come back for you.You couldn't understand what had happened, or how you got here.

One thing stuck out to you , more than anything else at that moment. Jensen cared. He cared or he wouldn't be here with you right now, and for now that's all that matters. For now that would be enough.

You don't know how long the two of you laid there just clinging to each other. Him apologizing over and over for not coming home to you sooner, telling you how big of an idiot he was for leaving in the first place, that he loves you and only you. 

You wanted more than anything just to make all this go away. You felt so foolish for doing what you did. You felt horrible for slapping him, you felt horrible for not believing him obviously, he cared enough to stay right now, when he had every reason to walk away, he came home.

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

Two days later, after many test, a 48 suicide watch, and a doctor requirement to go through therapy, you where finally in the car with Jensen on the way home.

You still hadn't said much to him, just sat quietly, going through the motions. Jensen's eyes would often divert from the road to the passenger side of the car to look at you. He'd tried to start small conversations with you, you just didn't feel like talking,you were too trapped in your own thoughts.   

You were ashamed of what you had done. In hindsight you felt foolish for being so weak. You didn't understand why your mind seemed to be at war against you. You didn't understand why Jensen had left, just like you didn't understand why he even came back.

You had slapped him, he had every right to abandon you, yet here he was; constantly worrying and checking on you.

You feel his hand slip over and grab yours, pulling it tightly into his grip and bringing the back of your hand to his lips like he'd done a thousand times since you'd woken up in the hospital. 

You'd never known Jensen to be so clingy, or affectionate. Not saying you didn't like it, you just didn't know how to receive it.

Then it hit you.Your real problem sitting right there in the passenger seat of your husband's car was you didn’t know how to accept love and affection from someone. That's what your problem was, that's what was wrong. 

No matter how much you loved your mom and dad you didn't have it. 

They groomed you to be a wife and mother, but showed you very little love, just trained you. Training that in the end did you no good, because you weren't prepared for a relationship like this one. Jensen didn't hold to the rules of the church, and what they expected a marriage to be like.

Taking a deep breath, you try to hold back the dam that threatened to spill over at any given moment. 

Poor Jensen had been trying to show you he loved you for months, and you just pushed him away. You didn't trust him and you had hurt him deeply. That's why he left you that day.The problem was you didn't know how to fix it.

Jensen turned down the driveway to the house, and your heart immediately  seized up in your chest, pounding  a steady rhythm in your ears. Your breathing came as shallow breaths, anxiety thick in your chest. Like a thousand pound weight pushing down on you.

"Y/N? Baby? You okay?

You didn't realize that you were holding your breath until you heard him speak directly at you.

"I don't know.” you said in earnest, not sure how you felt about being back here.

Jensen leaned over, and pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you the best he could in the confined space of the car.

"If you don't want to stay here I can back the car down the driveway right now, and we can go stay in a hotel until we can find us a new place." he said gently, letting you bury your face into his neck. 

Clearly he already thought this might be a problem, and had already thought about getting a motel.

Pulling away from him you look back at the house. You didn't know what you wanted. You didn't know if you wanted to run away. You weren't really sure what you even wanted to run away from. In the meantime, you didn't know if you wanted to face the demon that is yourself you were sure would be standing on the other side of the door, waiting for you. 

Licking your lips, and pulling your lower lip into your teeth, a nervous habit you'd picked up from Jensen over the last three months, you sat there staring at the front door like at any moment a monster would come out and drag you to hell where you really felt like you deserved to be.

Jensen's grip tightened on your hand again, drawing your attention to him. He was staring at you, trying to read what was going on inside your head, wanting more than anything to make the best decision for you.

Shaking your head, you push your fears down in your gut. This was foolish, and you couldn't let fear of the mental illness you just learned that you evidently had, according to doctors anyway, rule you. You had to get past this, for Jensen's sake. You hated the way he looked at you right now, like you were so fragile. 

"No... There's no need to go and buy a whole new house. I'm sure I'll be just fine."

Jensen leaned over, and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before leaning his own against yours. 

"If you change your mind at any moment, even if it's in the middle of the night, we're out of here okay? I'm not going to make you stay here. I'd never do that. We can always find somewhere else to live." 

You nodded your head, but said nothing, thankful for the out if you needed it. Once again, Jensen provides the security blanket you needed.

Getting out of the car before your emotions can get the best of you, you start walking up the driveway. Jensen was quick to catch up with you, putting his hand in yours as he unlocks the door. 

You stood there in silence, and stilled your nerves as he opened the door, walking in behind him. He stopped and watched every move you made, ready to rip you away from here if you couldn't handle it. 

Everything that you had left had been properly cleaned and put away. There were no dishes.Everything seemed to be in order. 

"I hired someone to come and clean up everything while you were in the hospital. I didn't want you to come back to all that." he said, as if reading your mind. You just nod and half try to smile at him. 

He wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you tightly to him. You didn't know how all this was going to work. Your trust was broken, not in Jensen anymore. You felt really stupid for ever believing he would cheat on you in the first place. It was yourself you didn't trust anymore. You felt like you were at war with your own mind and insecurities. 

This wasn't going to be easy, and you hoped more than anything you could come back from this, and be stronger for it.

I mean, they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger...Right?

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

Tag List: @deanwanddamons​ @imabitch4jensen​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles fanfcition #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen x reader #jensen x you #dean winchester #spn fanficiton #spn fanfic #x reader inserts #jawritter #jawritter 1k celebration #the arrangement

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Eidolon 10 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:  AU: What started off as the result of a simple act of rebellion ends up causing his life to spin out of control. How will young Danny cope with the results as well as a past that has a strange habit of coming back to haunt him.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, kidnapping, and various other things

Parings: hints of Danny/Sam much later on

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr

10. Aftermath

"So… What do you think he is?" Tucker asked her as they made their way to the kitchen to grab some lunch. It was about noon, and since Danny was still not awake -or showed any signs of waking, he had decided to put food on the top of his priority list. "Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful Danny went all glowy and beat that thing, but something that weird… And you got to admit, it was pretty weird…. Couldn't have come from a human."

"'Glowy'?" Sam asked while trying not to laugh. Oddly enough, it did help to lighten her bad mood brought on by exhaustion, fear, and paranoia. After Danny had somehow magically transported them back to her front yard and passed out, she and Tucker managed to sneak back into her house while carrying him and make it into her room undetected by her parents. Tiring as that and the chase from earlier was she was unable to convince herself they were safe and began constantly checking the window for any signs of the creature. Needless to say, by morning, she hadn't been able to fall asleep.

He just shrugged as he opened the large kitchen door and allowed Sam to pass through first. "I don't know what else to call it. I guess 'luminous' could work, but it doesn't really fit either."

"And 'glowy' does?"

"Probably not, but at least it's specific."

Though she would never admit it out loud, he did have a point. When Danny had taken a stand against the monster, ghost… whatever it actually was, it almost looked as if tendrils of greenish-white energy was wrapping around him. As it became more noticeable, it gave his body the illusion it was actually glowing. Even more startling was the change in his eyes and hair color. His eyes changed to a toxic shade of green which shouldn't exist in this world, and his hair had become a brilliant shade of white with a silvery sheen. After Danny had passed out, the white color seemed to seep out, leaving behind his naturally black hair after a couple minutes. Hopefully his eyes had returned to their natural color too.

"Anyway… what do you think we should take up to Danny?" By the time he spoke, Tucker had already started putting together a rather impressive lunch meat and mayo sandwich on one of the white marble counters. While Sam could not even look at the growing monstrosity, she was impressed by the knowledge he had of her kitchen. He had been over way too many times.

She thought for a moment as she searched one of the polished mahogany cabinets for some supplies of her own. "Well… probably bland foods like toast or rice would be best. Since he tends to get sick after anything weird happens to him, those are the only types of food that shouldn't cause any problems…"

"I didn't… even think about that…" he replied between chews, much to Sam's dismay. "Whatever that power… or weirdness is, it really seems to do a number on him."

"Yeah… and let's just hope it doesn't kill him in the process."

This particular episode had been particularly bad for Danny. Before carrying him into the house, she had checked his vital signs only to find no sign of life. His pulse was nonexistent, his breathing had ceased, and his body was freezing to the touch. Both of them had begun to panic and tried to remember what they could of CPR. Luckily for Tucker -what was it with guys and CPR? - Danny let out a shaky breath even before they got a chance to start.

Unsure what to make of the situation, they just stood there, dumbfounded, for a moment before deciding to take the seemingly unconscious and not dead boy into the house. If it was any other person, she would have called an ambulance without a second thought, but there was no way such strange events could be explained or probably even treated by a doctor. Besides, if he seemed fine now, it was unlikely a doctor would be able to do anything. Originally, they decided whoever woke up first would make sure Danny was still among the living, but with her being unable to sleep she checked on him regularly. His breathing and pulse seemingly remained steady, but his body, though a little warmer, still remained very cool to the touch; Combined with his naturally pale skin kept causing her to compare him to a cadaver.

An awkward tension filled the air for a moment while they made their lunches. Unnerved, Sam was about to say something, but a strange look from Tucker stopped her. "What's wrong?"

"Sam… this might sound weird, but what if that's the point? What if this power that's taken hold of him really is going to kill him?" he asked as he put his sandwich down and looked her in the eyes. "Didn't Danny say something before about how the ghost you two saw in the cemetery said that he didn't belong to this world? And didn't it also suggest he didn't have a lot of time left? And didn't that thing that chased us last night call him 'Ghost Child'…. I don't know about you, but it just seems like, if you think about it, everything's suggesting he's going to die."

"Tucker, how can you say something like that?" she snapped while trying to prevent any emotion, save for anger, from crossing her face. During her vigil, similar thoughts had crossed her mind, but she tried to completely ignore them. She had noticed Danny always seemed drained and weak after the power manifested, almost as if his 'energy or' life was its power source. It seemed quite possible it could kill him if it continued, but the cryptic hints they kept getting suggested maybe that was what the power needed.

No! She wasn't going to think like that! Nothing as horrible as that was going to happen to Danny. They were going to somehow figure out how to help him, and she didn't need such terrible thoughts floating around her mind. She cringed as she once again tried to suppress them. Having the idea be said aloud seemed to somehow confirm it, even with absolutely no proof. "Let's just focus on finishing so we can get back to Danny. I wonder if he's awake yet…"

"If you say so… but before we do that, can you please explain why your toaster's floating?"

Sam had to chuckle as she watched Tucker begin to panic and quickly put space between him and unassuming yet levitating toaster. Glancing at it to make sure it was actually plugged in and in use; she shrugged and moved over to retrieve its contents. "It's from Denmark. This usually happens."

"Wait… what?"

….

Surprisingly, when they returned to Sam's room, Danny was awake and sitting up on the deep purple bed. He looked terrible. His blue eyes were dull, and the dark rings under them attested to just how tired he really was. His body was also incredibly sore and stiff, but nothing more seemed to be wrong with him. Sam couldn't help but be relieved. As she watched him thankfully accept the tray of food, it seemed as if there would be no lasting problems from the night's events.

After finishing his light meal, Danny hesitantly asked what happened the previous night. Unsure where to start, she looked to Tucker for some help, and within a few minutes, the combined effort of the two got him up to speed. He accepted it silently, though Sam did notice he kept looking down at his hands. It was almost as if he was checking to make sure they still looked the same. It unnerved her slightly, but she tried to push it aside as she suggested a good break from all the weirdness would be a monster movie marathon. Both Danny and Tucker gave her looks suggesting they questioned her sanity, but after a few minutes of persuasion and a mention of the room sized television in the entertainment room, they happily changed their minds.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

It was official. The best way to recover from a mysterious paranormal fight was to sit and watch movies in Sam's gigantic theater. Not only did Danny get to relax in some of the most comfortable chairs he had ever encountered, but the ability to laugh with his friends as they poked fun at the terrible effects further alleviated the stress weighing down on him. Surprisingly, they were able to get through three movies without being interrupted.

After glancing at fancy clock hanging from the wall, he realized it was almost dinner time. "Hey, I should probably be getting home soon. Knowing Winston, he'll be getting worried."

"Do you think you're up to walking home?" Sam asked as she gave him an appraising glance. "You're welcome to stay another night."

A chuckle escaped him as he thought about her parents' reactions to the suggestion. Although he had only briefly met them, something told him the couple was already not too fond of him. "I think I can handle it." That was an obvious lie. His body still felt as if he had been put inside of an industrial dryer on spin mode, but how else was he going to get home? He didn't want to impose on Sam, Winston would start asking questions, and he certainly didn't have the money to call a taxi. "Besides, the walking might help with the stiffness."

"Or it could make it worse. Seriously dude, you should be taking it as easy as you can. Kicking some serious butt can be really tiring." Tucker's tone was playful and encouraging, but Danny knew he was trying to hide his own concerns about the strange event. Judging by how Sam and Tucker were acting when they entered the room after he woke up, the two most likely had a serious conversation about what happened. Though they tried to make him feel as if nothing was wrong, he could sense their worry.

He was about to start arguing but Sam quickly cut him off. "If you really think you should leave, at least I can do is to have my driver give you a ride home. I mean, you did save our lives."

"Thanks… but are you sure..? Wait, you have your own driver?" he asked, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

Sam fidgeted for a moment before answering. "Well, he's technically one of the drivers for my family, but I'm on better terms with him than my parents…. So, he's kinda unofficially mine."

"There's more than one…? Never mind." He cut himself off after a moment. "I don't want to know the specifics." The lives of the rich were hard to comprehend.

…..

After about a half an hour, the three of them were in the back of a stretch limo complete with its own mini bar stocked with several foreign drinks. Neither Sam nor Tucker actually needed to come, but they refused to let him go home alone. Danny just figured it was their way of showing concern. Though he didn't really need it, he didn't mind as their presence made the short ride more enjoyable.

When he arrived home, he was expecting a quite scene. Winston's silver Chevy would be sitting in the driveway, and while Winston himself would either be tending his modest garden or doing some paperwork in the study. But, instead of normalcy, chaos greeted him.

Yellow police tape had been placed around the perimeter of the yard and across the open front door. Several police cars were sitting, not only in front of the house, but also in his and the neighbor's driveway. A few officers were standing in the yard talking to each other while wearing serious expressions. Another was entering the house along with a couple people in white uniforms. Before the limo could even come to a stop, Danny jumped out of it and ran to the house, only to be stopped by some of the officers.

"I'm Danny, Winston's charge," he nearly shouted after one of the officers grabbed him while trying to explain he could not enter a crime scene. "What happened? Where's Winston? Does he know? Is he alright?"

"Wait, you're Wolf's kid?" another office asked as he approached. "We put out an alert saying you were missing. So you weren't in the house last night?"

"No, I…"

"Excuse me, Sir," Sam interrupted as she and Tucker ran over. "Danny was with us last night. He was staying over my house."

"He's not in trouble, is he?" There was a noticeable shiver within Tucker's voice, but he was doing his best not to show any other sign of nervousness. "Because we can totally vouch for him! We were with him for most of the day yesterday."

The officer held up his hand as a signal to let him talk. A trouble look crossed his face as he removed his hat and ran his free hand through his graying hair. After collecting himself, he held his hand out for Danny to shake. "I wish we could have met under friendlier circumstances, but I'm Sergeant Ross. We were called to your house after one of your neighbors called in some concerns about the safety of your dad. They thought they had heard gun shots last night but shrugged it off until they realized they never saw him leave the house today. We even received a confirmation from his work that he never arrived."

Danny bit his lip as he listened quietly. Winston almost never missed work, even if he was very sick. So, knowing that, something had to have gone seriously wrong, and Danny wasn't exactly sure if he was ready to find out what.

"I hate to say it, but it was a good thing we did decided to check on him," Ross continued as he looked him in the eye. "Your dad's currently in J. Marley Central Hospital and is being treated for several severe injuries from… what we think was a home invasion."

"No... That's impossible…" Danny stuttered after a few confused moments. "Winston's an ex-marine… He would have fought back. No one could have done that much damage…"

"Son, take it easy. This isn't the time for this…"

"You don't understand! Winston can take care of himself! There's a gun under his mattress for goodness' sake! He's always been prepared for something like this to happen! Some lame burglar couldn't have put him in the hospital!"

"Wait… did you say that Wolf owned a gun?" Ross asked carefully. "What kind was it?"

"I'm not exactly sure…. It's not like I saw it every day or anything," he replied gruffly as he tried to keep his feelings quelled long enough to try and answer the question. It wasn't like the officer had anything to do with Winston being hurt, but he certainly didn't want to be answering any questions. "I know it's some type of hand gun…. Maybe it's a .28… The box of bullets was sitting in the shelf on the study."

A concerned expression crossed the Sergeant's face as he called over to another officer. "Have any of the men found a firearm in or around the premises?" When the man shook his head, Ross' expression became grim. He then told the man to grab a couple of the other officers and search the area again, as well as finding a record of Winston's gun registration. After the other officer left, Ross turned back to Danny. "Well, I can't say I'm pleased by this new information… But I'm glad you mentioned it." He gave the boy a searching look before he spoke again. "I'm going to need to take you down to the precinct so you can give your official statement and maybe answer a few questions. Then we're going to need to go through your house and see if anything has been stolen."

"Wait… now?" Danny half demanded, half choked. "You're not going to let me see Winston first?"

"He's in the hospital…"

"You told me that, but you haven't told me anything else!" He had to fight to keep his voice and hands under control. Something in the back of his mind told him the officer would not appreciate it if he started waving his hands around while he was agitated. "Winston's all I have! I need to see for myself just how bad it is. I'll answer any question you have afterwards, but please, please let me see him first!"

"I can't let you do that."

"Why? Wait… I know what's going on… You think I did this." His eyes narrowed as he pointed at the officer. "I can't believe you! You're supposed to be trying to find whoever did this to Winston! Instead, you're wasting your time looking at me. I wasn't even home last night!" He took a breath to try and calm down for a moment as Tucker put his hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. With each breath, he could feel himself shaking in rage. "If anything, you should be looking at that Masters guy…"

It was the officer's turn to be suspicious. "…You don't mean Vlad Masters, do you?"

"I think so… He and Winston don't seem to get along…"

"And don't forget! He's the one who snuck into your house that one day!" Tucker added as he gave a shudder. "That's the day we heard Mr. Wolf yelling. No offense dude, but he's really frightening when he's mad."

"Tell me about it…"

"Back up a minute," the officer interrupted while rubbing his eyes. "You're telling me, Vlad Masters broke into your house. What business does someone like him have in your house?"

Could this officer be any more irritating? Danny had to bite back a sarcastic reply as he answered the officer. "He said he was checking up on Winston since he had to reschedule a meeting… with I guess one of his assistants. According to him, our front door was open, and he went inside to make sure everything was okay." As the officer wrote down something on a little tablet that was pulled out of his pocket, Danny decided he had enough. "Look! I'll answer any of your questions later, but I'm not doing anything else until I get to see Winston!"

….

After a twenty minute standoff, Danny finally got his way. An irritated Sergeant Ross had escorted him to the hospital after finally realizing he wasn't going to get any answers. After the two stepped into the waiting area, he ran to the nearest available teller and practically demanded to know where Winston was being treated. After an agonizingly slow few minutes, he finally got an answer.

In retrospect, running as fast as he could through the halls was probably one of the worst things he could do in the hospital, but he really didn't care. He easily managed to avoid any obstacle he encountered. Who knew there would be so many movable computers, monitors, and people in those maze-like hallways? When he finally reached Winston's room, he was met with a wall of people. Several doctors all wearing dark expressions seemed to be deep in discussion as they blocked the only door into the room.

Unsure how to interrupt the doctors, he was happy to realize Winston's room had a window. Peeking in, he felt his breath hitch as he realized just how serious the attack on his guardian had been. Winston was unconscious and hooked up to a respirator. Several monitors were hooked up to the man, and two IV bags, one of blood and one of clear fluid, were also put in place. What little bit of skin was not covered by bandage or machine looked bruised and swollen. The overall image made Winston look like he was fragile enough to break if he was touched. Danny had to try and hold back tears as he wondered who could have done such a thing.

"How the hell did you get here so fast?" an out of breath voice asked from somewhere behind him making him jump. He turned around to see a rather winded Sergeant Ross giving him a searching look. "I couldn't go more than a few feet without out running into something."

Danny didn't say anything as he turned back towards the window. He didn't want to have Winston out of his sight for more than a few minutes. He just had this feeling something terrible would happen if he did.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but are you part of Winston's family?" A person wearing a white coat came into the periphery of his vision. Curious, he turned to see a young female doctor extending her hand to him. "I'm Dr. Sabo, and I'm currently in charge of managing him while he's here."

He hesitantly took her hand and explained who he was. "How… how is he?" Even he could hear the unease in his voice.

"That's the big question, isn't it?" Dr. Sabo frowned as she looked towards the window. "I hate to say it, but it's hard to tell at this point. Winston received several odd wounds from the attack."

"Odd…? How so?" the sergeant asked, surprising both Danny and the doctor.

She bit her lip as she tried to find the words to describe her thoughts. "It's the first time any of us have seen wounds like that. They almost seem to be large bullet wounds, but the edges of them act more like burns. And, to make matters worse, we were unable to locate any residual bullets there might have been. We're really at a loss for what happened to him."

"Will he be able to answer any questions?"

"I'm not sure. Winston, although stable, is in a terrible condition. He's going to have to be watched very carefully over the next several days. We're going to do our best to see that he heals, but it will be up to his body to make sure he recovers. From what I can see of him, he appears to be in very good shape for his age, so we're hopeful… but, you can never tell."

The world started to spin as Danny listened to the doctor go into more details about Winston's condition with the sergeant. He allowed himself to slide down the wall and sit as he tried to get some sort of grasp on the situation. He never thought he would be in this situation. He had once joked that Winston was too strong to ever be taken down by anything other than a renegade bus, but this had shown him Winston was human, just like everyone else.

Danny couldn't take it anymore. In an uncharacteristic moment of weakness, he buried his face in his hands and allowed the tears to come. It was a small comfort, but if he was going to have to deal with the police over the next several hours, he was going to need to be as strong as possible.

=======================================

Anyways, a couple things:

J. Marley Central Hospital is not a real place… at least I think so. I named it to keep in line with the ghost theme of the show. Jacob Marley was the first ghost who appeared to Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.

Dr. Sabo and Sergeant Ross aren't all that important. They're really only there for this section.

And, can I just say that hospitals are the most confusing things on earth? Cuz, they are. There are at least fifteen hospitals within an hour and a half of my house, and all of them are mazes. The floor plans are ridiculous. You can't walk through them without encountering workers, movable computers and/or other medical devices, and let's not forget the robots. Don't ask about that last one. It is really funny to see them having a Mexican standoff though.

#Eidolon #fanfic #fanfiction #danny phantom #danny phantom au #dp #dp au #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #vlad plasmius #vlad masters #supernatural #paranormal #fantasy

[andromedarune]

Bede x Hop Request:“Just Desserts” (p2)

REQUEST ~ “I have one, it’s a hop x bede where bede feels bad for being mean to hop, but is too scared of apologizing to him in fear of rejection. Due to his past at the orphanage and his overall fear of being left alone again. So he decides to send homemade desserts to hop with secret messages ,anonymously . Hop Figures it out when the desserts stop coming after bede gets sick badly ( maybe a bad fever from exhaustion, anything that stops him from baking will do). You can include opal or the other gym leaders teasing hop on who could be sending the treats. I hope this is okay.”

A/N: Alright, here’s the conclusion to my mini-fic requested to me earlier in the week! I definitely got carried away with the prompt, but I really wanted to nail the emotions being presented here (because there are A LOT). Not sure if I accomplished that, or much else, tbh... Oh well! Give it a read anyway and hopefully it’s decent? Thank you!

It’s hard to really say that his work could possibly follow a routine. There were the basic things that always remained the same, of course; he’d wake up a seven in the morning every day, feed Dubwool before he started eating his bedsheets, do whatever morning chores his mother had waiting for him, head to the lab, basically become free slave labor for Sonia for the next eight or so hours, come home to a few more chores, then pass out on the couch while working on some papers before magically waking up the next morning in his bedroom. That was probably the closest thing to a routine he’s ever had, all things considered. But Hop never really minded the idea of a routine or the lack thereof; so long as he got to have some fun at some point, he didn’t mind. And it was safe to say that being the new professor’s assistant was far from what he would consider a boring life.

But he wasn’t sure how he felt about getting comfortable with someone constantly leaving lovely gifts for him every single week.

The first one came in, leaving the assistant incredibly puzzled. It wasn’t anybody’s birthday, here, so that idea was dashed. Maybe Leon brought it for Sonia? Hop shook his head; he wasn’t so quick to assume something like that, especially since Leon had never mentioned anything about giving Sonia presents beforehand. Nevertheless, the youth brought his findings to his boss, who was equally as perplexed as him. So the two opened up the box as well as the letter. A beautiful cake, and an eloquent letter apparently dedicated to Hop. Now that was a plot-twist.

“Someone’s got a secret admirer~,” Sonia nudged his shoulder, still giggling at the way he was completely frozen in a state of perpetual embarrassment. Maybe he should have investigated on his own before bringing it to Sonia.

“D-definitely not!” Hop finally found his words, wincing at his voice crack. He thought he had enough of that when his voice started changing. Apparently it wasn’t done with him.

“Oh yeah? What did that letter say? Something about the ‘brilliant radiance of determination reflecting like the sun in your eyes’?”

“Sonia, please,” Hop slapped his hands over his face.

She laughed some more, giving him a good pat on the back.

“Relax - there’s nothing wrong with having a secret admirer. It’s actually really sweet and adorable.” She picked up the letter, flipping it around a few times in her hands. “Though, they didn’t seem to leave a name. Any ideas on who it might be?”

“No clue. I honestly didn’t think that anybody’d actually think of me like that…”

“What? Of course they do! You’re a total catch, Hop - not for me though, ‘cause that’s gross.”

“Yeah, gross,” Hop finally laughed, lowering his hands to inspect the cake a bit. It really did look good. Chocolate cake was always delicious. “So, should we eat this now or…?”

“Who, me? No way - this is your secret admirer. You eat it.”

Before Hop could argue, Sonia sashayed out of the room, snatching up some of the documents she had brought into the room. Once she was gone, the boy simply sighed, glancing back down at the cake. Well, best not let it go to waste. He sat himself down, skimming over the letter a few more times. Who in the world could it be?

A week went by, and he had forgotten about the letter and cake. But they, apparently, did now forget about him.

“Another?” he blushed down at the box on the ground. He didn’t even need to look inside to know what it was. Hop looked around, hoping to find a sign of somebody around the entrance to the lab. Nothing but Rookidees. He sighed, kneeling down to pick up the gift. I don’t even know if Lee gets stuff like this, he thought to himself, pulling the simple envelope up to investigate. Maybe they left a clue this time…

But, just like before, there was no discernable way to figure out the identity of the mysterious benefactor. He opted to hide from Sonia’s teasing, hiding himself up in one of the numerous study rooms that the main laboratory had to offer. The letter was similar to before; beautifully crafted words of admiration, noting the many qualities of the assistant that he hardly noticed himself. He could note, though, a strange familiarity in the writing. ‘I had never known shame until I saw myself in your teary eyes.’ So obviously they knew each other - unless this was all metaphorical. Hop was never good at metaphorical writing. But Hop didn’t exactly interact with a lot of people, these days. He’d occasionally get to hang out with Gloria if she had time off; maybe it was her? He shook his head at that. The girl wouldn’t know bashful if it hit her in the face. A shy confession like this definitely wasn’t her style. Maybe Marnie. He hoped not. They never really spoke to each other, even during the gym challenge, but that was mainly because Hop wasn’t sure if he was more scared of her or her brother. But fancy homemade cakes didn’t really fit her style, either, so that was out. Who else did he know?

Not really anybody else. He sighed, skimming through the letter a few times more before resigning to just eat the cake and return to work. It was, unfortunately, amazingly delicious. Better than even the fancy cakes up in Wyndon. Whoever this person was, they really knew how to bake; Hop just wished he could finally figure it out so he could thank them or something. Do you even thank secret admirers? How does all this stuff work out? Definitely too much for him to figure out.

Four weeks later, and it became an unfortunate addition to his routine. Friday would roll around, and Hop would eagerly rush through his work without even noticing. Sometimes Sonia would comment, other times, she’d just wink and saunter off. Hop tried not to think about it too much - anticipation really did get annoying, even for him - so he sought to busy his mind with work until the time came upon him.

The clock ticked on, and so did the day. Before he knew it, the sun was setting, the whistle of the tea kettle from the kitchen signalling the end of his shift. Sonia called him over to join her for some tea, usually her way of saying thanks for all his hard work. He had barely walked into the room when Sonia leaned onto the kitchen table, curious eyes searching for some juicy gossip from his own golden irises.

“So, I noticed that we didn’t get any… special deliveries today.”

Hop blinked.

“Huh, so that’s what felt off today,” he tried to say, hoping that he could save face just a little bit.

“So? Does that mean that you’ve figured out who they are?”

The teenage boy grimaced, running a hand across the nape of his neck. It was a little sore today; maybe he slept wrong?

“Uh, well, uh… not really.”

“Huh?” Sonia slapped the table. Oh no, it’s happening - she’s getting worked up over something that doesn’t involve her again. “You’re serious?! Your secret lover didn’t send you a gift today and you don’t know why?!”

“W-well, th-they’re, uh, not really, um - we’re not -”

“Hop this is serious!” she lunged for him, grabbing his shoulders. “This person has faithfully been leaving you sweet gifts every Friday for over a month, now, and just magically stops doing it out of nowhere?!”

“Maybe… they forgot?”

“TRUE LOVE DOESN’T FORGET, HOP!”

This lady really needs to lay off the chick-flicks. But Hop had learned the hard way never to point out stuff like that when Sonia was in one of her manic moods.

“S-sure it doesn’t…” he tried not to sound creeped out.

Sonia sighed, putting her hands on her hips as she sent him a sassy pout.

“I’ve seen this in a show once - the person with unrequited feelings reaches out in their own way to their crush, but then something bad happens to them, so the crush has to be the one to help them.”

“I don’t think that’s what happens in real life -” Sonia shot him another look and he promptly shut up.

“Yes, of course!” she smiled, ignoring Hop’s previous comment entirely. “You have to find out who your secret admirer is quickly or else something terrible might happen to them - if it already hasn’t! Maybe they’ve been hit by a car! Or were kidnapped! Or are terminally ill and only your love can save them!”

“How are you a nationally-acclaimed pokemon professor?” he muttered under his breath.

“It’s settled then - here’s your mission, Assistant Hop! Figure out who can bake a cake like that, and you’ll find your true love! Easy, right?”

Hop nodded, not really understanding what she was saying, but was desperate enough to just lie to escape her nonsense. She was probably just overexaggerating like always, but he also didn’t want this mysterious person to be hurt. Maybe something did happen to interrupt the once steady flow of kind words and delicious foods? And thus began his search.

As terrible as it felt, the first person Hop went to was Leon. His big brother no doubt had handled situations like this before, so Hop swallowed his pride and approached his brother on the subject. Once he finally got Leon to stop laughing, he explained the whole situation from start to finish.

“Well,” Leon stroked his chin, at least pretending to seem semi-serious, “I don’t think I personally know any high-caliber bakers. But if I’m remembering things correctly, I think Opal is said to have legendary baking skills that practically nobody can compare to.”

Hop grimaced, but Leon quickly waved his hands before his brother full-on threw up everywhere at the thought of Opal being his secret admirer.

“No, no, no! I’m not saying she’s the one sending them - I’m just wondering if she taught the person who’s sending them.”

Hop leaned back a bit, trying to think. He didn’t really know too much about Ms. Opal (other than that she was an eccentric rich lady at an unknown age who seems to enjoy dressing people in bright shades of pink). But if there was a chance that she knew the identity of his mysterious benefactor, then he was willing to investigate a bit further. He opened his mouth to thank his brother, but a dark scowl suddenly flashed over his features. Leon blinked.

“Uh… everything alright there?”

“I just remembered,” Hop growled, “that if I want to even get close to Opal, then I’ll have to see that jerk again.”

“Who, Bede? Like I’ve said a thousand times, don’t worry too much about him. I hear he’s really mellowed out these days. Maybe all that pink finally seeped into his brain.”

Hop scoffed, but otherwise kept all his venomous comments at bay. He thanked his brother for the help and hurried out the door, making his way towards Ballonlea.

Ballonlea was always a difficult place to get to. A big contributor to that issue was due to Glimtangle Forest, which was basically a mystical maze that had posed as a major threat to countless gym challengers as well as general travellers for years. This is why most people opt for a flying taxi whenever they need to get to the city, but even then, some mystical fairy nonsense occasionally will cause a detour for whatever poor soul happened to be flying over the forest. Thankfully for Hop, this wasn’t the case, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervously twiddling his thumbs at the apprehension of having to navigate that nonsensical forest when in such a hurry.

He jumped out of the taxi, offering a berry to the Corviknight before making his normal dash for one of the most ornate buildings in the quaint town. It wasn’t hard to find Ms. Opal’s house when it was so amazingly decorated - it was borderline gaudy with the amount of pinks and purples passionately strewn about the house’s complex design. He wasted no time, bounding up the fancy front steps, grabbing the old-fashioned door knocker, and knocked. A few breaths passed him by as he shoved his sweaty hands into his pockets. What was he even nervous for?

After a couple of moments, the door opened, revealing the ever intimidating Ms. Opal, the now retired fairy-type gym leader of Ballonlea.

“Well, if this isn’t a… pleasant surprise,” she smirked, seeming almost deviously pleased in the teen’s awkwardness. “Running errands for the professor today, hm?”

“A-actually, I, um….” Hop took a deep breath and gathered his resolve. “I’m actually here to ask you something.”

She nodded, tapping the ground a couple times with her cane.

“Of course you are. Come inside, then.”

Before the assistant could protest, the elderly woman was already shuffling away deeper into the depths of the house. Hop could only sigh as he followed behind her. It was painfully frustrating; she took tiny steps and dragged her feet along the somehow pristine wooden floors, so Hop had to take the world’s slowest pace at the constant protest of his long legs. But over the course of a year, he’d managed to attain some semblance of calm, deciding that it would be best if he didn’t complain too much around the person he was seeking assistance from. Once he got the information he wanted, he could run around to his little heart’s content.

Eventually, Ms. Opal halted just before a beautiful white staircase, spiraling all the way up into the rather tall ceiling above.

“So, tell me,” she mused through sharp, invasive eyes, “what was it you were hoping to ask of me?”

“I… was curious to know if, um… Well, uh… if you happened to have any knowledge in baking. L-like, y’know, a cake, or something…”

Opal’s eyebrows twitched upwards just a centimeter. She brought a hand to her chin in dramatic thought.

“In my earlier days, I was quite proficient at it. But I don’t bake nearly as much as I used to.”

“Then… is there, um, a chance that you might have taught someone how to bake like you?”

She paused, staring intently at the boy with an amused expression. Hop was beginning to wonder if he really wanted the answer to this question. Before he could make up his mind to flee, she let out a small chuckle.

“Ah, but of course. My protege has been trained in everything I know how to teach. Head up these stairs and you’ll find your secret admirer.”

A stone of dread sank into the depths of his gut. Maybe Ms. Opal had more apprentices? It definitely couldn’t be the person he was thinking it was, right? No, that would be silly - impossible, even. But there seemed to be no turning back now. Hop swallowed his fears and slowly began his way up the stairs, trying to ignore the apprehensions racing through his fingertips.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Bede rolled onto his other side, desperate to find a position that made existence a little less agonizing. A dreadful fever had overtaken his body, unrelenting in its rage for the past four days, leaving the normally active youth bedridden the entire time. Hatterene was on nursing duty, constantly checking her trainer’s temperature and switching out his face towel in an attempt to ease the fever. Sylveon was stubbornly nestled under the covers, desperate to get as close to his body as physically possible. Not like Bede could really scold it even if he wanted to; he didn’t want to waste his energy on pointless yelling. So, he reluctantly stayed in bed, allowing his devoted pokemon to care for him while he waited for his body to recover. But a knock on the door earned a frustrated grown from him.

“What?” he hissed, trying to speak through a throat chalked full of phlegm. Hatterene nudged his shoulder, reminding him to watch his emotions. She was a sensitive thing, that Hatterene. Bede sat up, watching the door open and fully expecting to get an earful from that old woman again. So it’s safe to say that his heart entirely stopped when he saw Hop sheepishly shuffle in, wringing his hands nervously before his chest.

This… this couldn’t really be happening, right? No - he must be dreaming. Yes, that’s it. This was just a fever-induced nightmare. Bede would wake up in a moment’s notice and be in his bed once more, alone with only the company of his pokemon to rely on, just like always. Just like always. Just like always.

“Um…” Hop kept his eyes on the ground, brows knitted tightly together. Bede wasn’t sure if the boy was frustrated, sad, or confused. It all just looked like a blur of emotions constantly shifting across the assistant’s tan face. “... It’s… been a while.”

Bede opened his mouth with full intent to say words, but none dared to come to fruition. So he closed his mouth, pushing his aching body up to his elbows. How pathetic he felt right now, sick in bed with this person who confused him so annoying bad being unable to look at him. Maybe it would be best if Hop just left. At least then Bede would be familiar with the feelings in his chest. He didn’t know what he was feeling right now.

“So…” Hop cleared his throat, attempting to meet Bede’s eyes, but quickly looked off to the side. “I… I just wanted to ask if… if you’re… um…”

The light-haired boy felt a bead of sweat tumble down his brow. Surely it was from the heat of the fever, right? No way was he this nervous. No, no, Bede always kept his cool. Especially when beign confronted by the person he sort of kinda maybe almost possibly liked. Not that he did, anyway. Because that would be stupid. And Bede definitely wasn’t stupid. Right?

Hop sucked in a sharp breath of air, balling his hands into fists as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Are you the person who’s been sending me those gifts?” he threw the words out, trying to ignore his own flurry of conflicting emotions going through him at the moment. He didn’t know how to feel about either possible answer. Could he be happy with either one?

The intensity in the air rose a few degrees, making every breath laborious. Bede glanced towards Hatterene for some sort of support - he didn’t really know why he did. She smiled back at him, cooing a few unintelligible sounds.

Well, by the gym leader’s logic, if Hop was destined to abandon him like everybody else, then it really didn’t matter if he knew the truth, then, right? It didn’t matter of Hop found out this terribly dreadful secret Bede’s been carrying with him for over a year. According to the assistant, Bede was still Bede. Cold. Egotistical. Conniving. After everything that had happened, it was ridiculous to hope that Hop could ever forgive Bede, and nobody could blame him. And even if he could, it wouldn’t last. No, Bede would surely find some way to screw things up, or wouldn’t be enough to make Hop happy in any condition. Hop would leave, and eventually Ms. Opal will leave, just like the chairman and his foster parents and his parents that never came back and

“So what if I am?” the words hissed past his lips, far more venomous than he meant. Oh well. It didn’t matter. The outcome would be the same, anyways.

Hop flinched back a bit at the sharpness of the other boy’s words, but his conflicted expression remained stable. Once he collected himself, he took another deep breath. Slower, this time, as if to savor the taste of oxygen flowing through his lungs.

“Why?”

A painfully simple question. Remarkably, it was also one Bede hadn’t really expected. He really should have thought this through.

Why did he bake those cakes? Why did he write those letters? Why did he send them to Hop? Why did he feel this way? Why, why, why?

It eventually became obvious that Hop wasn’t going to hear a response. Bede had opted to glaring holes into his duvet, fingers tangling themselves within the fluffy pink fabric. Ah, pink, the color of so many things: sweetness, innocent attraction, adoration, and - evidently - embarrassment. There was no way to hide such a shade from the plush of his cheeks. How bothersome.

“... Did you really mean what you said in those letters?”

Bede looked back over at Hop for the briefest of moments, and immediately wished that he hadn’t. Much confliction remained, but there was something else there, now, amid the tempest of clashing feelings depicted on the teen’s face. Perhaps Bede really was having a fever dream. No way there was actually a bit of hopefulness in Hop’s eyes.

Maybe that’s what pulled out a strange sentence from Bede’s mouth.

“Every word.”

Hop shied his gaze away, seeming a bit more bashful as he rubbed the nape of his neck. Now Bede was really confident that he was the color of embarrassment. Maybe a bit too red though. The assistant stuttered an awkward laugh, trying to ease the thickness of the air while Bede shifted a bit more upright. Sylveon didn’t appreciate that motion, evidently, and crawled onto it’s trainer’s lap. Instinctively, Bede ran his fingers through the creature’s fur, desperate to distract himself from his non-fever related warmth. He looked back over to Hop, who seemed to still be processing the gravity of those words, and another sentence slipped out without Bede’s permission.

“Are you going to leave?”

Hop met his gaze, surprised.

“What?”

Bede took a small breath, losing just the smallest smidge of confidence in his words as he took the initiative to repeat them.

“... I said, are you going to leave?”

“Do you want me to?”

Here it was. The moment he had been unknowingly dreading. If he says yes, then Hop will no doubt walk away forever, and Bede would be back in his element of loneliness. Or, he says no, and takes a risk he never expected to take willingly. He would be clueless, a Magicarp out of water, left with nothing to keep himself steady but the hope that Hop would guide him through the confusion. Could he really take that chance?

“... No.”

Bede couldn’t keep his eyes on Hop. This was it, the deepest layer of his person; everything he was had been revealed in only a handful of words, leaving nothing but a fearful child afraid of being left behind by the people he loved. And now Hop could see the truth behind Bede’s every action and every word. This was blind faith in its simplest form, the gym leader unsure of what exactly he was hoping for.

“Okay.”

His eyes shot back up, genuine surprise (and a tinge of fear) written all over his flustered face. Hop stared back at him, hands shoved deep in his pockets with a curious expression on his face. What could that guy be thinking when he stared at Bede so intently?

“O-okay? Okay… what?” Bede’s voice died down syllable by syllable, reduced to nothing but a faint whisper by the end of it. Hop gave a timid smile. Perhaps a bit afraid, but a little hopeful, still. Such a strange expression on such a tender face.

“I’ll stay.”

#pokemon #pokemon swsh #Pokemon Sword and shield #swsh #gym leader bede #trainer bede #bede #assistant hop #trainer hop #hop #bede x hop #bedexhop #bede/hop #imagine the bullshit poor hop has to go through working for sonia #she extra but she fabulous #I love her #Leon is actually helpful #bede is a very soft boy #hop is remarkably understanding #these boys be CONFUZZLED #feelings suck asshole

[theladyregret]

My Experiences with Covid19

So...I just want to write this out because it feels important to do.

I’ve had Covid19 twice since this pandemic started and I just want to give a rundown of how each time went down because...if you’ve never had it and you try to go off just online lists and descriptions on medical websites it’s might not be very helpful. This disease just does what it wants and it makes no sense. It can effect everyone differently.

The first time was back before there were any Lockdowns in the United States. Back when everything was new and doctors really didn’t know what was happening yet. I couldn’t get a test as they were too limited at that time and only used on those admitted to hospitals or who had recently traveled out of the country. I was tested for the flu and that came back negative though the doctor I saw tried to insist that it was still the Flu regardless of the negative test.

My first symptoms were just a general feeling of malaise (general feeling of being unwell) and a sore throat that anyone who has worked in customer service would immediately assume was the start of a typical cold or bronchitis.

The next day the fever hit. It shot up to 103 and I developed rigors (severe tremors and intense shivering associated with high fevers). If I didn’t take a fever reducer I would be stuck in place, pretty much paralyzed by these rigors while covered in layers of blankets. After taking meds the fever would completely break and I would be able to move around again but was dripping with sweat...only for the fever and rigors to return about four or five hours later.

This went on for the first week. It was pretty much like having your standard shitty flu but where a flu usually abates after about a week of this...this part was actually a walk in the park for what was to come. It’s important to note that I had no idea I was infected with such a potentially deadly disease and while I was out of work because...you don’t work food prep with the Flu, I was in the process of moving and it was winter. I got very little rest, was taking meds to keep myself on my feet to pack, and then spent an entire day in the bitter cold moving into a new home.

After this my symptoms had progressed into my chest. I had no energy as everything was going into just breathing. I couldn’t walk more then a few feet without being so exhausted I had to sit for half an hour just to recover. My heart would be pounding like I had been running marathons any time I got up to move around. At this point I just couldn’t do anything other then lay in bed. I felt like my lungs were full of crud but coughing didn’t do anything. I couldn’t take deep breaths at all. If I tried to force myself to my body would reflexiley start swallowing. Couldn’t yawn...nothing...just sit there and take sips of air like my lungs were already full. Eating was very difficult as well since chewing required me to stop breathing longer then was comfortable so I could only drink things very slowly. This was when I saw the doctor who tested for the Flu and made sure I didn’t have pneumonia then sent me home with cough medicine that specifically said not to be used to treat dry coughs... *rolls eyes* anyway...

I never lost my sense of smell or taste and had no sinus related symptoms at all.

Luckily after another week and a half this subsided and I recovered though the dry cough would linger a month or so.

Now....fast forward a little over a year later and I catch Covid for a second time.

The first symptoms I got was a productive cough and a bit of light headedness while I was at work. By that night I had developed a small fever of 99.3. Nothing to really worry too much about yet but given that we’re still in a pandemic and Michigan was in a drastic upswing of cases I decided to keep an eye on it and took my temperature every hour or so. It climbed steadily until it hit 100 before I went to bed.

The next morning I was woken up by a familiar feverish chill and checked my temperature. 101.4. I was also aching and the cough had gotten worse. I decided to get myself tested and the test came back positive a couple days later. I was cleared from work and spent most of my time resting in bed and avoiding strenuous activities of all kinds.

I was actually pretty surprised by this since my symptoms had not gotten very severe and I kind of thought maybe it really was just a case of bronchitis this time but it’s more likely my first exposure meant my body was better capable of handling the virus resulting in a much more mild case compared to my first time which a doctor categorized as moderate/severe and that had doctors been more aware back then they would have been keeping very close eye on me to make sure I didn’t suddenly go downhill and that I was lucky. Either that or the first time was aggravated by the strenuous activities I was doing.

The most important thing is to not just assume that your fever going away means you aren’t sick as when I tested positive I got to find out some things I never knew before. A big one is that you are not considered cleared unless you are completely fever and symptom free for 72 hours. That’s three days. Why? Because your fever could stay high or it could jump all over the place. Mine would sit most of the time at around 100 but then suddenly go all the way down almost normal, then jump back up, then break...then go back to 101 a couple hours later. I was constantly going from being too cold to overheated.

Also...losing your sense of smell may not be your first sign if it does happen. I didn’t lose mine at first until day 4 and it didn’t happen all at once but gradually...starting with bad smells. Also...ignore any and all symptom checkers that state that sinus symptoms don’t happen, they absolutely can happen. Leading up to my loss of smell I had violent sneezing fits and my sinus’ would burn, particularly right between my eyes. This actually faded after my sense of smell went away completely so I’m assuming it’s related.

Other more minor symptoms I developed was a general lethargy and I became a bit scatter brained.

My second week my cough got a bit worse but it never settled in my chest and wasn’t dry, but productive much like when you have bronchitis.

Something that also happened that I haven’t really seen anywhere is I completely lost my appetite. I don’t mean I got nauseated or didn’t want to eat because of breathing issues or loss of taste which I never lost completely but...I just stopped feeling hungry. Like I just didn’t feel like I needed to eat so I just didn’t want to. I could go all day with nothing and it was like that part of me was just numb. That stuck around for about a week after I recovered.

By day ten my fever and all serious symptoms had subsided and I felt pretty much normal except for a lingering cough which...is still around a month later but not too horrible. It’s pretty normal for the cough to linger regardless of severity. Some of my sense of smell also hasn’t fully returned.

In general I feel my second bout was more neurological then my first one and unfortunately common tests don’t show variants so there’s no way to know if it was the same one or not.

So basically, if you develop a fever, just get tested and don’t depend on symptom checkers to diagnose yourself. Also buy a blood oxygen meter. They’re not too horribly expensive and you can find them at any drug store or walmart. It can help relieve any anxieties while you’re sick. The doctors told me that generally speaking the first 4 days are easy but it’s day 5-10 that people usually crash if they’re going to. Using the blood ox monitor can tell you how much oxygen you’re getting. If it starts getting around 93 or dipping too much below what’s normal for you (97-100 is typical)...go to the hospital as that can mean you’re developing covid pneumonia which is what kills people. Track your symptoms and take your temperature frequently. I usually took my temperature in between taking fever meds so about every four hours or so.

#covid19 #covid symptoms #recovery #coronavirus #personal experience #multiple infections

[anotheronechicagobog]

Dunder Mifflin Meets Intelligence AKA

Volomag and Vodka Part 2

Warnings: swearing, mention of vomit, numerous times, pranks

Written by @anotheronechicagobog

A/N I hope you guys laugh at this as much as I did writing it. The pranks are from a show called “The Office U.S.”, I do not own that or One Chicago Also, Kevin’s sister Vinessa makes an appearance

Whoever coined the term ‘morning sickness’ deserves a slow and painful death. Kim thought bitterly as she was hugging the toilet at ten at night. “Kim? I made you some ginger tea and I got you a glass of water.”

“I fucking love you.”All Adam could do was laugh as he sat on the edge of the bathtub and gathered Kim’s hair in one hand and rubbed his hand up and down her back. Kim let out a grateful hum before her stomach lurched again. The gruesome sound of Kim spewing more stomach acid (because let’s face it, there’s nothing else left for her to throw up) into the porcelain toilet bowl.

Several minutes later Kim felt better, not good, but better. She felt okay enough to get off the floor. She stood up and grabbed the glass of water Adan had brought her from the sink counter and washed out her mouth before grabbing her toothbrush to complete the process of removing the acidic bitterness from her mouth. By the time she raised the mug of tea to her lips it was cold. “Thank you, Adam. For everything.” Her eyes met his in the mirror as he came up behind her to wrap his arms around her middle. “No thanks is necessary. This feels like a dream come true.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I... I don’t think that I’ve been this happy in a long time. I know that we’ve had our issues, but I love you. I have for years. Even when we broke up, I can’t stop. Even if I wanted to.”

“I love you too.” And she did. She might not know where she stands with him right now, she might not want to be labelled as his girlfriend right now, but she does love him. Dating after Adam was hard because she was always comparing them. No matter who they were or how much she tried to stop it, none of them came even close to the bar that Adam had raised. “C’mon,” he kissed the crown of her head, “let’s go to bed, we’ve got work in the morning and you might wake up a few more times in the night.” She smiled softly as he guided her towards her bedroom.

They hadn’t moved in together, but they were looking for a place. Three bedrooms. One for the baby, and one per adult. Adam and Kim, they had such a dramatic history, that they weren’t actually sure how to handle it. They wanted to have this baby, they wanted to parent together, they just weren’t sure if they should be in a relationship while doing so. It was a complicated situation, but they were doing their best to make it work.

————————————————————————————————————

The next day Kim was standing behind the desk at the 21st district. It was a... Unique change, because despite her bubbly personality, she’d managed to be grumpier than Trudy was behind the desk. It had absolutely nothing to do with the work, the officers, or the civilians, and everything to do with her pregnancy symptoms. Nausea and soreness kept her awake at night, causing her to be exhausted and in need of coffee, but she can’t have coffee! And on top of all that, people were constantly bringing food in that thrust her into a constant state of “if I don’t keep my mouth closed I’m going to hurl on everything in front of me, yes I have tried ginger ale, saltines, and ginger tea, and no, none of them have worked”. She was excited to be a mom but she was ready to behead somebody.

“Hey mama, how are you holding up?” Trudy, yes she was letting Kim call her by her first name now, had become her saving grace. Since Kim was covering the desk Trudy was free to do work in the back office and go on patrol. In return, Trudy was making sure Kim always water, Gatorade, and Polish beef barley soup (it was the only thing that didn’t make her hurl). “I haven’t disintegrated anyone with a glare today, so good.”

“Ha! Well, I brought another blue raspberry one for you. I’m gonna head out with Tay for the day since O’Donnel is out sick today.”

“I’m so glad that you were able to get her assigned to 21 again. I missed her.”

“Spare me the love fest, Burgess.” Her tone may have been snappy but the smile on her face and light in her eyes gave away just how happy she was. “Have a good day Sargent.”

“You too.”

————————————————————————————————————

Hailey and Vanessa had been keeping her up to date with all the goofiness of intelligence. All the jokes and all the pranks. When they noticed that Kim looked like she was going to cry, scream, and throw up, they figured they should do something to cheer her up. And since nothing ridiculously funny was happening on its own, they decided to make it happen, with some inspiration from one Jim Halpert.

First, they decided to try one of Vanessa’s favourites. The vending machine prank. They grabbed all of the small knick-knacks from the guys’ desks (excluding Voight because they didn’t have a death wish) and convinced the vending machine guy to let them put them in the vending machine. Adam’s Groot bobblehead, name plaque, and Chicago Bears bouncy ball, in places C4, D2, and H7 respectively. Kevin’s Chicago Blackhawks hockey puck, large globe pencil sharpener, and small Chicago bears teddy bear, in places A6, I3, and F2. Jay’s magic 8 ball, Deadpool figurine, and ‘cereal killer’ spoon, in places G5, D9, and A3.

Second, they moved Kevin’s desk into the bathroom. Phones, computers all plugged in. And aside from the items in the vending machine, all were where they normally were on Kevin’s desk. Vanessa even placed all of his files in order and each spine of the folder a couple of centimetres forward each level. So it looked kind of like a staircase made of folders, and that was how he always did it, according to Vanessa. That earned the dark-haired woman a knowing chuckle from Hailey who, Vanessa reminded, really didn’t have room to talk.

Third, they moved Jay’s desk into the corner of the bullpen, where Al’s used to be, and put a large navy blanket over it. Figuring that was enough to keep his desk out of sight. Together, with some scrap wood from one bewildered Matt Casey, they wrapped the pieces of wood together in such a way that they imitated a desk, a chair, a computer monitor, a phone (that one was a pain), his file divider, pencil cup, pencils and pens, and stacks of files. They were both so proud when the got to look at the finished product.

Fourth, Hailey had gone to a hardware store and gotten a spool of red wire. She plugged on end into Adam’s monitor before placing the wiring with tape along the front of his desk, the floor, all around the edge of the break room, out into the bullpen again, before going down the hallway to the interrogation room, up the wall across from the gun safes, attached to a plastic tub filled with neon coloured ping pong balls. This one went a little off-script, but they were both excited to see how it would turn out.

Fifth and finally, they took the containers out of the fridge that they had made first so that the contents would have time to solidify. Taking off the lids of the three containers, the two women flipped them over quickly onto plates. Thankfully the jello stayed completely intact, each confection clearly showing the mugs inside.

Giggling they stood back and high fived, feeling good and excited for the next day. A heavy cough interrupted them from their internal praise and sense of accomplishment. “Sargent. Hi. What are you doing here so late? We don’t have a case.”

“I was about to ask you two ladies the same thing Upton.” The two women looked at each other and sighed, knowing they were caught, Hailey answered.

“We were setting up pranks for the guys.”

“Don’t you two think that’s a bit childish?”

“It’s to cheer Kim up. She’s been so stressed, and the pregnancy symptoms have been so awful that we thought she needed a good laugh. Plus, it’s not like the guys will get mad at us. Adam and Kevin will go puppy-eyed once they realize this was all for Kim, and Jay’s in love with Hailey so he won’t be mad at her, and he can’t be mad at me if he isn’t mad at her since we came up with all of this together.”

“Hey! He doesn’t... Whatever,” she muttered when she saw the look Voight gave her, “Plus, we didn’t do anything that involved your office, your stuff, or you.”

“... Alright. At least there’ll be some entertainment to distract from the boredom of spending all day doing paperwork. Now get out of here, get some sleep, you have to be back here in five hours.”

————————————————————————————————————

“... Where is my desk?”

“Forget that, why is mine wrapped up like some kind of present?”

“Mine looks fine... But different? Does that even make sense?”

“I’m gonna need coffee if I’m gonna deal with whatever th fuck this is.”

“Start a big pot, Kev.”

“Hey what is this red wire? And duct tape?”

“It’s a computer, Ruzek. It has wires.”

“Thank you for your sarcasm Rojas, but seriously, what is going on? And why are your and Hailey’s desks normal?” Hailey pulled out her phone and started recording Adam as he unplugged the red wire and pulling it up. The duct tape came up with a sticky ripping sound. Everyone watched closely and angeled themselves to get a better look as the tape lifted up from the bullpen floor and continued into the breakroom, Adam growled in frustration as he exited the breakroom pulling the wire up just after he had entered and gone in a circle. Everyone followed him curiously as he went down the hall to the interrogation room, just as Jay was about to shout out an agitated question, the tape went up the wall. When Adam gave a final tug, the last bit of tape came off the wall, but he’d also pulled the rest of the wire, at what it was connected to, down to him. Causing started gasps and shouts from the guys as 100 neon ping-pong balls rained down from the ceiling all over them. “Okay seriously, what was that?!” Hailey, Vanessa, and Voight were all in the background enjoying the show.

“Wait, wait... Do you hear that?” The shouts stopped and everyone strained their ears to listen to what Kevin was pointing out. A desk phone ringing. From the men’s bathroom. Voight subtly took Hailey’s phone to continue the recording. “What the hell?!” Kevin, Adam, and Jay had found Kevin’s desk in the bathroom. Looking confused as hell he looked to his brothers before picking up the phone. “... Hello? Oh, hi Vinessa. Listen I’m gonna have to call you back, something’s going on at work. I love you okay? Say ‘hi’ to auntie for me... Okay, I’ll tell Kim you say ‘hi’. Bye.” He hung up the phone before sitting down and stretching his arms out over his desk. Almost nothing is out of place. “What the ACTUAL fuck?! And where is my hockey puck?!”

“Okay, now I’m even more curious as to why my desk is wrapped up like a birthday present.” Numbly nodding their heads all the men left the bathroom and cornered Jay’s desk. Vanessa had Hailey’s phone and she watched with her boss and roommate as they did their best not to blow their cover. Jay shook his head, puzzled at the state of his desk before putting his arm on his desk and plopping down in his chair... Everything immediately collapsed. Leaving the girls pushing back tears as Jay tried to stand up in the sea of slippery wrapping paper and wood. “Fucking hell someone please tell me that the coffee is done.” He looked like Bambi on ice trying to get up as Kevin hollered from the breakroom, “pot’s done! And thank fucking God for that! Hey! Why is my hockey puck in the vending machine?!” Hailey and Jay followed the crowd in last, Hailey having to help her partner get up. They entered and Adam looked like he was about to blow a gasket. “My name plaque! Groot! Who- Why would someone do this?!”

“Who the fuck put Deadpool in the vending machine?! And where is my desk?!”

Taking shaky breaths all the boys muttered the holy word; “coffee.” Kevin went to get the creamer when he stopped dead in his tracks. Three thuds later, and each of the boys’ favourite mugs were on the counter, floating in piss yellow jello. “Why is my mug in jello?”

“I washed these last night! First the ping-pong balls and now this?!” Adam reached into the jello and pulled his mug out, the jiggly substance still visible inside the mug. The two pranksters (and witness) burst into tear-jerking laughter. Hailey snatched her phone back and sloppily emailed the video to Kim before the boys could stop her. “O-oh - oh m-y- Fu- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“You two did this?!” The girls quickly got off the floor and hauled ass to the women’s bathroom. The lock clicked just as the guys reached the door. “Hey!”

“Get out here now!”

“What did we do to deserve this?!” Their voices were lost in a mixture of laughter and yelling. Hailey and Vanessa were curled up on the floor hugging their stomachs and each other as the laughter became painful.

Suddenly the yelling stopped, and their boss’ voice made it’s way to the two hyenas. “I think it’s time to explain, ladies.” They took deep breaths, their laughter finally coming to an end. They untangled themselves and stood up, but didn’t dare leave the sanctuary of the ladies’ room. “Kim’s been really sad lately. We wanted to cheer her up.”

“And you thought that pranking us was the best way to do it, Hailey?!”

“Yeah, Jay. We all get a kick from joking around now and then, and she’s told Vanessa and I numerous times that sending pics and videos of funny work mishaps brightens her day.”

“We just wanted her to smile again, guys. She constantly looks like she’s about to burst into tears or rip someone’s throat out with her teeth.”

“... Fair enough. I know that this has been hard for everyone, but Kim and I really appreciate your support.” The click of the lock and squeeze of the door had Jay looking into the delighted eyes of his favourite person and... he wasn’t angry. He’d calmed down when they were talking about Kim, but seeing Hailey smile? Really, truly smile? He’d do anything for that. Vanessa stepped out of the way, and into Kevin as Jay wrapped Hailey in his arms, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

“Kim is my best friend.”

“Hey!”

“Shut it, Adam. Kim is my best friend. Thanks for caring about her.”

“Don’t thank me, it was really, really fun.” And just like that, the intense emotional mood was broken. Causing laughter, from everyone this time, to reign supreme.

“As much as I love this... I’ll call it team bonding and get HR paperwork on hand, we have a desk day today. And we all need to work. So let’s put Atwater and Halstead’s desks back in their rightful places.”

“Okay seriously, where did the two of you put my desk, Hails?”

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

The signature footsteps of Trudy Platt raced up the stairs to the intelligence bullpen, drawing all eyes to her. “Can any of you explain why Kim had to excuse herself to the back room to roll on the floor laughing?”

#adam ruzek #hailey upton #chicago pd #kim burgess #vanessa rojas #kevin atwater #jay hastead #hank voight #adam ruzek x kim burgess #burzek #baby burzek #upstead fic #upstead #hailey x jay #jay halstead x hailey upton #kojas #kevin atwater x vanessa rojas #one chicago