#spending time with the people she cares about
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Helpless to the bass and faded light
About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking
》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said
You don’t like football.
It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.
Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.
Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.
You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.
The things you do to make your parents proud.
How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.
“Pretty please, just this one”
“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.
You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.
“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.
The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.
Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.
“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”
She can.
“It’s a really important game, my love”
“For who?”
“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.
“I barely bear you playing”
“You love watching me play”
“I love you, period”
Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.
It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.
What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.
The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.
When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.
~
You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.
The things you do to make your lover happy.
“You know I love you, right?”
“You better never forget this”, you quip back.
The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.
She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.
“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”
Nice try, you will not.
“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”
“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.
Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.
Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.
They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.
You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.
The one thing you all have in common.
“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”
Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.
“He sounds like an incredible father”
“Football obsession aside, he was good”
When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.
~
The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.
Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.
The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.
You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.
“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.
Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.
When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.
At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.
Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.
You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.
fine.
#woso x reader#leah williamson x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso community#lw6#woso#here we are#short and sweet#i hope you enjoy it
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hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?
A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO
PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you
“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”
The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.
“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?
“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”
“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”
“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.
Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.
“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.
“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”
“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”
“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”
“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”
“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.
“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.
“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”
Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”
“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”
“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”
“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.
“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”
“No. And I hope it stays that way.”
“I—how dare you.”
That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.
But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.
Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?
Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”
“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.
“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”
“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?
It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.
“Uhh, I’m sorry—”
“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.
“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”
“Because I’m her prom date.”
“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.
Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”
“Dude.”
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura
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Hi! I would love to request some cuddling scenarios with Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox!
SOFT MOMENT OF NON SEXUAL INTIMACY?! IN THIS HOUSE?! Yes, please!
It's implied romantic but could be queer platonic or a queer/nontraditional couple.
Lucifer
This man wants snuggles. Any way he can get them any time, he isn't required to not be physically attached to you. He really struggles with derealization/depersonalization. His depression gets bad, he isolates, and time has pretty much lost meaning to him after being around so long, so he just kinda, wastes away into sadness. It's how he and Charlie fell apart the first time, and he really doesn't want it to happen again.
Having you around to just talk to, hold hands with, sit on your lap, or you in his, it helps. It's like a reminder that he's still alive and someone wants to be around him. Someone wants to spend time with him. That you care. It also motivates him to stay in contact with Charlie instead of convincing himself she's better without him.
He still loves Lillith, regrets they aren't together, but he doesn't blame her for leaving. He's more upset with how it affects Charlie. So he makes extra effort to spend time with you, to acknowledge how important you are to him. He's so paranoid about ruining this relationship. This man has centuries of being told everything is his fault, everything wrong with the world, and is forced to face that supposed truth every day he rules Hell.
His favorite thing is just pulling you on top of him like a weighted blanket, wrapping his wings around the both of you, and laying in a dark, warm, cocoon. He'll take deep breaths, pet your hair, and just let himself finally relax. The first few times you'd stayed quiet, assuming that's what he wanted, but it just makes it easier for him to disassociate.
Now you talk to him, softly, about your day, ask about his. You slowly get him to open up about his favorite things, good memories he has of Lillith, baby Charlie, the sins, times before the Fall. It's a long process to get him to talk about it. Please be patient and gentle with him. He likes when you play with his fingers while he talks, just holding his hand and twisting and turning it, moving his rings around, just don't touch his wedding ring please, maybe you even manage to do his nails in this position.
His second favorite is when you help preen his feathers, gently massaging his wing joints, polishing each feather with the oil from his glands, using your thumbs to work out knots in the muscles around the base. It always turns into a full back massage that leaves him purring, making happy sighing sounds and little moans. He usually falls asleep like this. Don't worry though, once he wakes up, he's definitely returning the favor. He does head massages too! He prepares a little personal spa day for you.
He isn't really looking for anything more intimate when he's in one of sadder moods and is cuddling with you to feel better, he wouldn’t turn it down, he's too afraid you'd be upset, but he really just wants to be held or to hold someone. It's the little things that really make you special to him, and he cherishes every second you guys are together.
Alastor
We all know Alastor isn't a fan of being touched unless he initiates it. There are very few exceptions to this, so you have to be pretty close to him to even get the option to cuddle him.
You'll have to start slow, like holding his hand. A lot of people think he's the type to not want to do too much PDA, but like, look at how he is with Rosie and Mimzy in front of everyone. He doesn't care. Not for small things like hand holding. This eventually leads to him putting his arm around your waist as you're walking together, or around your shoulders if you're sitting next to each other so you can lean on his shoulder.
Now more intimate gestures, like cheek kisses, forehead kisses, petting his ears, those are private. He will resist at first, preferring to lavish you with attention, but be stubborn, match his energy, especially the witty banter, and eventually you'll wear him down.
It's canon that Alastor's hardly ever sleeps, so I imagine if you're a motherly type, (regardless of gender), or someone he genuinely trusts (because its not about if he's safe. He's the Radio Demon, very few sinners are a threat to him, so being a little vulnerable with you is safe no matter the level of trust) he's going to pass out.
You're in his room (or yours, but he prefers his) and he agreed to let you pet his ears. You settle on the bed, his head on your chest or lap, and he closes his eyes, soft jazz music playing from some unseen source, and maybe you're watching something on your phone, (he allows it only if it's something he can enjoy as well, but he usually winds up listening more than watching because screens hurt his eyes after awhile) more likely you're listening to a podcast, Alastor likes listening to true crime with you.
Your fingers gently run through his hair at first. You tease him about the bob sometimes, but understand that he's prone to pulling his hair out otherwise. Eventually you notice the music has stopped and Alastor's fast asleep, the smile on his face is so small it nearly doesn't exist, and his breathing is slow and even. His ears twitch when you stop petting them, and he stirs a bit, so you quickly resume playing with them and he falls back asleep.
(His tail is sensitive too, if you ever wanna fluster him, just run a finger down his spine to that cute little tail and give it a gentle tug.)
Alastor is also prone to play biting, so if you're an excited nibbler who gives noms, expect your cuddles to end up with a few bite marks.
Vox
It's really hard for him to sit still long, so if he's working late and you want to spend time with him, just crawl yourself into his lap and get comfy. He'll grumble and complain about the distraction, but it's all for show. He'll put his arm around your waist and trace your hipbones with his thumb, or play with your hair, run his fingers up and down your back, just small fidgety things.
He understands his head is inconvenient for snuggles, and he may not be the most comfortable. (I headcanon his body is built like the Detroit Become Human bots, with like silicone padding to appear/feel like skin, but it's hard plastic and metal and wires underneath with biomechanical parts inside.)
He is warm, though, and has the constant hum of his internal fans and electricity, so he's great for sensory snuggles. He's great for when you're sore or have migraines (surprisingly, but he can turn his brightness down at will). He likes to do more traditional forms of PDA.
He walks with his hand on your lower back. (He and Alastor both absolutely do the subconscious walk with their partners on the inside and them closest to the streets or alleyways. Lucifer would, but he probably isn't even aware it's a thing.)
You're cooking/baking/doing anything with your back to him, he puts his hands on your waist and leans against you. He's 7ft tall so he probably won't lean his entire body on you, but enough to feel close to you.
His favorite snuggles are disgustingly domestic. Like, his all time favorite, is when you're both sitting together on a couch, enjoying a movie or show, or maybe you're reading or on your phone or gaming, and he's working, just anytime you're occupying the couch together and existing, he'll pull your feet into his lap and massage them.
It's not like, a fetish thing, he just thinks it's sweet. A nice gesture to show how much he appreciates what you do, how hard you work. He'll massage your ankles and calfs too. He's also prone to trying to play with your hair and massage your scalp when you're laying on his chest at night, but his claws get tangled easily. Settles for rubbing your shoulders/back.
He likes when you rub his back and neck too. The man spends way too much time hunched over his desk at work. His back aches from doing the gremlin hunch over his desk to standing ramrod straight in front of cameras, sitting properly and confidently, stiff as a fucking board. You once teased him about how he could just use one of his cardboard cutouts as a stand-in, and no one would know.
Other times, he likes to lay on you. The first few times he sprawled across your lap seeking affection and reassurance for his fragile ego, you'd been so nervous to crack his screen. But now you're more used to it and will even playfully try and poke it/tap it. Between you and Valentino, Vox has had to rule out ever getting a touch screen for a head, because neither of you will stop fucking with it. It does make him laugh, though, adorable little giggles he'd rather die than let the general public hear. It usually turns into a playful wrestling match and aggressive cuddles with a side of petty static electricity from Vox.
#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#vox x reader#alastor x reader#lucifer x reader
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𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ❜
chapter no. 001!
𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀CONTENT : paige “with” another girl (for the plot). reader is so terribly down bad. also, i don’t proofread so if you see typos or grammar mistakes i’m sorry. and this chapter is kinda boring but it's necessary soo.
𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀ WORD COUNT : 1.5k
𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : yall seemed to like the prologue so i hope yall like this too!!
THEY’RE KISSING. and she’s enjoying it, by the looks of it. you can tell because she’s doing that thing where she pulls the other person closer like they could never be close enough. the thing she used to do to you.
it’s almost comical that the first time you see paige again, she’s kissing some other girl with eyes like yours outside the diner where you and the girls were. she thinks she’s being sneaky (she’s not). she always thought she was sneaky, you remember that much. in fact, you somehow remember everything about the blonde except what her lips tasted like. so of course you’re a little jealous, feeling a bit out of the loop. that’s normal. right? and maybe definitely it’s stupid to mourn so deeply over a relationship that you ended but, whatever, you can’t help that you miss her.
there was nothing human about the feeling, it was more like a typhoon or a volcanic eruption, something so completely out of your control. it was purely sickening…but whenever you see the peroxide-blonde with someone new, you find yourself apprehensively scanning their hair, their skin, the words that they would say –– always finding a hint of yourself within them. the delusional part of you wanted that to mean she still wanted you, but logic said that maybe she just started having a type. but then you’d think back to before…the paige before you never had a specific type. but since you? there’s an unmistakable one. but that’s not enough proof that she still feels for you. in fact, it’s nothing. it’s hard not to see yourself when you’re actively looking for it. you’d keep up with the torture by staring at paige kissing that girl through the window but then you feel a sharp kick to your shin from underneath the table.
“stop staring, perv.” nika mutters, rolling her eyes lightly. although nika was one of the few people who knew about the dead relationship, she didn’t know that your feelings for paige still lingered. she only knew what paige told her, that the two of you were friends.
“i wasn’t ––”
“you were.”
okay –– maybe you were. you sigh silently to yourself, taking a sip of your milkshake. this is the first time you’re actually hanging out with your friends together rather than just one on one (which you only did because you didn’t want to see paige). the two of you agreed to be friends but that was clearly not going to happen. however, you felt bad for denying your friends every time they asked to spend time with you. so, you sucked up your pride. you could spend an hour in paige’s presence, it wouldn’t kill you. at least not literally.
angel, a redhead who shares a dorm with nika and a major with you, is sitting in between azzi and you. she’s eyeing you carefully, after all, the two of you are very close and she knows why you and paige broke up. she also knows that you still care about her. her gaze is simultaneously suffocating and protective.
“...are you okay?” she whispers only loud enough for you to hear. you simply nod, munching on your fries trying not to look out of the window again. in truth, your head was spinning. you haven’t seen paige face to face since the breakup. you were hoping you’d never have to again…
then she finally enters, walking up to the booth. every step she takes is just as confident as they always are. her hair is down, running across the length of her back. her eyes meet yours, they’re more familiar than your own name. her beauty is still unquestionable –– but you wouldn’t admit it. it would make looking away from her even more difficult. so instead you pretend not to look as she sits down at the booth right next to nika…right in front of you. she pokes nika’s side just to piss her off before snatching a fry from angel’s plate and dipping it in her own milkshake. angel rolls her eyes but says nothing.
“that’s disgusting.” nika turns up her nose as paige bites it.
“don’t knock it till you try it.” paige dramatically licks her fingers. nika makes a fist, gently hitting the table a few times with her knuckles. you chuckle at nika’s attitude.
“what are you giggling about? you used to like it too.” paige mutters, smiling lightly but her words send a pang to your chest. nobody else seems to catch the bitterness in her tone….but you do. her eyes look almost guilty when she sees the sharp intake of breath you take. but before she could say anything else, you look away. you avoid her eye contact like it’s deadly.
nika clears her throat, eventually sensing the tension, and turns her attention to azzi whose eyes are close and head is rested against the booth. “you okay?”
“mhm…just really tired.” she mutters, opening her eyes to sip her lemonade.
you chuckle. “i bet you are, we stayed up all last night studying.”
“finals?” angel questions.
“yeah…” azzi mumbles.
“can we please not talk about that right now?” paige groans.
“says you, scholar athlete.” azzi mutters, rolling her eyes at the blonde.
“she’s too busy with that girl to focus on studying these days.” nika chuckles. angel looks over at you for a quick moment but you keep your gaze steady on your plate.
you nearly jump out of your skin trying to relax your tensing shoulders before someone notices. you ended things with her…she couldn’t even call you her girlfriend. so why did it hurt so much to even hear of someone else in your place? this wasn’t exactly the plan, you were meant to move on by now. but seeing her…again…all you can wonder is what she’s thinking about right now.
“who? cleo?” paige snorts. “we’re not talking about that either.”
cleo. cleo. the girl who just had her tongue down paige’s throat no less than ten minutes ago. you feel sick to your stomach at the mention but you hide it well, then you feel sicker when you think about how pathetic it is that you even felt this way to begin with. it’s just another indignity among many.
“why not?” nika mutters. “it’s more interesting than talking about studying.”
“true.” azzi adds.
paige looks over at you, her way of saying that she’s not going to talk about another girl in front of you. “where’s aubrey?”
you appreciate the conversation shift even if you know it’s in vain. they want to know about this mystery girl and honestly, so do you.
“late.” nika mutters.
“i ordered her food for her.” angel smiles softly.
“and she’s gonna wanna talk about the girl too.” azzi chuckles. angel’s leg shakes underneath the table, she’s clearly empathetic for you. she knows the girls don’t mean to hurt you but she also knows that it is hurting you. you wanted to relax her, make her feel less guilty for not saying anything even if she wasn’t participating in the conversation.
so you chuckle lightly, pretending to be completely fine and say, “can you please be still?”
“can you please be still?” you sigh softly, braiding her hair in its signature style. paige is sitting in front of you on the bed with her legs crossed. she has a game later, and she asked you to braid her hair for her.
“you’re pretty.” paige mumbles as you finish up her first braid, still squirming at your touch.
for a second you almost forget yourself, paige being damn near sickeningly sweet. she seems to notice how her words have temporarily struck you, pride swelling within her since she loves making you happy.
you shrug it off and remember that her back is facing you, so you chuckle at her commenting on your appearance. “you can’t even see me.”
“i don’t have to. i’m thinking about how your face looks right now.” she turns back to look at you over her shoulder. “pretty.”
you bite back a smile, turning her head back so you can braid the other side. “you’re corny, you know that?”
“i’m enamored.”
“oh, someone learned a new word.” you snort, continuing braiding her hair, being as gentle as you can with her. (though it gets increasingly difficult when she won’t stop moving).
“shut up.” she mutters. “i’m super smart.”
you finish braiding her hair, tapping her side to let her know that you’re done and she can go look. she stands up from the bed, long legs taking her to the dresser which has a mirror over it, she eyes her braids carefully. “they’re a little crooked, babe.”
you roll your eyes. “cause you wouldn’t stop mo––”
she turns back your way, walking back to you. paige towers over you while you sit on the bed, she puts a hand under your chin and kisses you. “i’m joking. they’re perfect. thank you, baby.”
“anything for you…” you whisper back and your words make her smile. it’s wide and toothy –– the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
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THE CURSE OF CURIOSITY.
Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader
"While your brother searches the library of the Dragonkeeper Elder for something new to read, you come in contact with some unlabeled fluid. You both learn that it's something meant to aid in the breeding of dragons, however, it also has a unique effect on humans. But lucky for you, your twin is there to help you through the ordeal."
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, dub con, sex pollen (rather fluid lol), p in v, breeding kink
WORDS: 4 K
NOTES: Hope you enjoy me having literally zero grasp on English. 🤭
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
“It’s far too late for us to be here,” you huff, almost annoyed, as you watch Aemond graze his fingers along the spines of the several books kept in the currently deserted chambers of the Dragonkeeper Elder. “What are we looking for here anyways?”
The room is barely lit by anything else than just a handful of candles. Your twin holds a lantern of some sort in one hand, using it to make out the writings that are carved on the books backs.
When there doesn’t immediately come an answer from him, you start to slowly walk around the room, inspecting its decor. “I have exhausted the castle’s libraries, and hope to take something of their collection for my own,” he murmurs, carefully selecting two books.
You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. Although you’re just a few moments younger than him, sharing the same attributes with your long, silver hair and lilac eyes, you have a much gentler nature than he does, one that doesn’t lend itself to the same mischief you had pursued together as children anymore.
“And you couldn’t have just taken Floris with you? You ought to wed, and doing something together would do no harm to your future union. One sparsely sees you two around court,” you note, slightly annoyed your brother chose to wake you instead of his betrothed.
Knowing all too well that just the mention of the betrothal is going to set him off, you choose to play with fire. If your brother wants your company, he’ll have to put up with your teasing. And just like expected, the notion of being forced into a marriage he doesn’t want to be in irritates him, audible in the sigh he releases. His resentment of the situation has become worse over time as he feels more and more suffocated by the ordeal.
“The girl is as dull as stones. Besides,” he replies with a shrug, “she knows nothing about our family’s history, much less about dragons.” The topic of dragons is something your twin is very passionate about, and you know that the fact that his wife-to-be cares so little about his passion infuriates him. It might be one of the main reasons for his dislike of her. “I have no desire to have Floris at my side any more than she does me.”
His annoyance is palpable, but you don’t feel bad about making it worse. For all the hours he has spent teasing, taunting and annoying you while you grew up together, he gets it back twice and three times over. And although he hasn’t spoken it out loud, you know you’re one of the few people he trusts blindly to be himself around.
“That aside, it would be foolish to read with Floris,” he continues, your silence coaxing him to speak more, “as all she does is gossip with her friends and prattle on about pointless nonsense. You of all people know best how I feel about this match.”
“Floris isn’t so bad, you know,” you defend with a low voice. “And you’ve barely tried to get to know her. Surely you can find at least one thing to like about her. If you did, you might just see she’s not as terrible as you’ve decided.” If you both have to spend your days withering away in marriages sealed by your father and mother, you at least could find a little solace knowing your twin wasn’t as miserable in his.
Aemond sighs in frustration. “You sound just like mother,” he comments dryly, finally moving to look at you from over his shoulder. “Can you really say that you like her? She is dull and naive. I am certain I couldn’t find anything to like about her even if I had all night. There is nothing for me to like about her. Nothing at all.”
Finding yourself at somewhat of a loss of words at this, you open and close your mouth without any words leaving it. Part of you wants to disagree with your twin, as Floris hasn’t been entirely unpleasant to spend time with at court, which makes Aemond’s dislike for her appear entirely without reason to you. On the other hand, you’ve known your brother long and well enough to know when he is resolute about something.
“Just promise me that you won’t be a terrible husband to her. Even if you don’t like her, don’t make your lifes awful,” you finally blurt out.
As you allow your gaze to trail through the chambers once more, you spot some small vessels standing lined up on the desk in the far corner with books and scrolls littered around them. You don’t wait for Aemond to reply as you make your way over, determined to inspect the small containers. The liquid inside of them resembles milk of the poppy, although it’s slightly more permeable to light when you hold it to one of the candles.
You hardly think about the dangers coming with it when you open the lid to inhale a whiff of the fluid. Not smelling entirely unpleasant, it still has you scrunching your nose as a slight burning grows prominent in your nose and throat.
Placing the vessel back down rather quickly, it stands too close to the edge of the desk. You’re not quick enough as it falls to the ground with a clatter, the vessel shattering into pieces and the pale liquid spreading across the floor.
“By the Seven,” you mumble, sinking to the ground to collect some of the larger shards.
The sound of breaking glass and your sighing is enough to catch your brother's attention again. Where he has read the spines of the books before, he makes his way over to the source of the commodation now. “You shouldn’t have dropped that,” he comments dryly, which prompts you to shoot him a heated glare. “Oh, you don’t say, mh?” you reply, your voice laced with sarcasm.
Reaching for another shard, you pull your hand back with a hiss when it cuts your finger. “Ouch!” you exclaim and rise to your feet, soon enough spotting the crimson oozing out of the cut.
Despite his annoyance at your clumsiness, Aemond’s good eye is drawn to the cut you have given yourself. It’s no deep wound, but even the hint of your blood makes something akin to guilt bubble in his stomach. “What were you doing with that?” he inquires, as he takes your hand to inspect your finger, nodding towards the vessels still standing on the desk.
You watch him twist and turn your hand to have the perfect look of the wound, the stinging pain suddenly not too bad with his warm skin on yours. “I… I just wanted to see what they keep here. It is unusual for anyone other than the maesters to store unmarked liquids,” you reply, hissing as Aemond pinches the cut finger a tad too tightly. “I shall see Maester Mellos. Mayhaps this needs stitching.”
“That’s an excellent idea.”
Aemond fetches the books he has chosen from the collection, holding them under his arm as he brings the other to you to place a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the Dragonpit.
On your request, the cut on your finger is stitched by Maester Mellos, although he has voiced that it wasn’t quite necessary. But something tells you the opposite, especially when you catch him staring at your face and checking your temperature more than once. “Is everything alright, maester?” you ask him with a soft voice, a yawn following.
Aemond towers over the both of you, carefully watching each move of the needle in the elder’s hands, just waiting for him to make a wrong move that’s meant to hurt you – he’s familiar with being stitched up after all.
The maester seems to be out of his mind, and only reacts as he hears you say his name. “Maester Mellos?”
His eyes are wide, but he nods quickly. “Yes… yes, princess. The wound should be able to heal calmly now.”
He is quick to pack his utensils up again, and even faster to leave your chambers at once. And while Aemond hurries after the old man, trying to catch up on him outside of your chambers, you don’t wait for any of them to return again with sleep coming over you.
The crackling of the fireplace is the only thing audible when you stir awake, a sheen of sweat covering your skin, making your nightgown cling to it uncomfortably. Your body feels as though it’s on fire when you squirm from one side to the other, not finding back to sleep. A tingling spreads in your loins, and each time your thighs squeeze together, it surges up your spine.
“Gods be good,” you whine, utterly bewildered with the feeling of liquid fire coursing through your veins.
Aemond not so silently rises from one of the chairs close to the fireplace, and comes closer to the bed, though, careful not to startle or frighten you as you regain your bearings. He has hoped you’d sleep through the entire ordeal and wake up as if nothing has happened, but that hope slowly dissipates with each passing moment.
“How are you feeling?” your twin asks, concern in his voice. Suddenly, hearing his voice allures you, and doesn’t diminish the burning at the apex of your legs.
As you clench your thighs together again, it releases some of the tension your body holds, and makes you whine in despair. “Aemond…” you pant, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”
The thin sheets covering your body do little to conceal what is happening beneath, and your brother just assumes it’s your way of trying to suppress your bodily urges ignited by the pale liquid you came in contact with before.
“I…” his usual confidence and boldness completely deserts him at the state you’re in, and he can barely find the words to tell you what he’s been told by Maester Mellos.
As he watches you writhe and writhe about on the bed, he’s unsure of how much longer he can just stand there and do nothing. But his concern and love for you cause him to make the decision to act, approaching you and reaching out to grasp your hands.
At the contact, the feeling of his warm hands fully engulfing yours, it’s like something overcomes your mind and body, luring you in to move, staring up at him with wide eyes as you sit on your haunches. “Dohaeragon nyke… kostilus,” you whimper, strands of your silver hair clinging to the damp sides of your face. “Ziry ōdrikagon.. sīr bāne. Nyke sepār – dohaeragon nyke, lēkia.” Yet you don’t quite know what exactly you’re begging for. Help me… please. It hurts… so hot. I just – help me, brother.
In the dim light of the candles, you spot his eye widening as you shift and squirm, looking up at him in such a vulnerable state with your innocent eyes, pleading for him to help you through your ordeal although you have no idea of what’s wrong with you right now. He can’t help but notice how your hair clings to your skin, seeming as if you’ve just bathed, and that your movements seem to contribute to its dampness.
“Mellos has told me what the fluid is that the Elder keeps in his chambers,” he states, trying to stay calm and not let your state affect him too much.
But with his proximity, all effort of you to process what he’s saying is fruitless. You pull on his hands, as if you want to encourage him to join you in bed, and when he doesn’t budge, you rise on your knees, and start to fidget with the buttons of his coat – solely driven by your urges. “And that is?” you mumble, not really listening.
His cheeks run hot when you start to undo the buttons, and his hands capture yours once again to put a stop to it, making you pout. With furrowed brows, his grip finally has you looking up at him. “It’s something used to aid in breeding the dragons,” Aemond states. “He told me it’s also used to increase their stamina and to make them more…” he trails off, his body slowly growing tense as the implication of what he’s going to say settles into his mind. “... receptive to breeding.”
“Mh–Mh,” you hum almost nonchalantly, and watch completely mesmerized as your fingers graze along his, the warmth and softness of his skin only intensifying the tingling in your loins. Aemond is hesitant, unsure whether or not what you’re doing is entirely due to the potion’s effect, or if there is genuinely some desire for him on your part.
You lick your lips and free your hands from Aemond’s to shrug the opened coat off his shoulders. The fabric of his tunic is pinched between your fingers as you tug on it once again to beg for him to join you. With him taking his sweet time, you find yourself clenching your thighs every now and then to soothe the aching burning at the apex of them.
“He also informed me that ‘tis necessary for someone to… help you through it,” he murmurs quietly, his voice almost sounding shaky as he speaks, “... for it will burn you from the inside out if not.”
Even though you’re fully acting on your body's desires, you do notice the way his widened eye trails down to your thighs, lingering there for a moment before it returns to yours.
You don’t give a verbal response to his words, and instead, your only reactions are subtle ones. Nodding your head slowly, as if you’ve understood what he is implying, your hands squeeze his tunic further into his chest. He can practically see your body tensing with each movement of your fingers, almost as if you’re trying to hold back.
With your eyes firmly locked with his now, you slowly trail your hands beneath his tunic, pushing it up to remove that as well from his body to get further access to him – if it wasn’t for him not raising his arms.
Exhaling a deep breath, you sit back on your haunches. His reluctance does little to quell the fire raging within you, no, it only fuels to make you even more desperate. The lacey hem of your nightgown rides up your thighs as you spread them, and fully exposes your undergarments the moment you bring your hand between your legs. A breathy whimper falls past your lips as your fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt, and then something akin to mischief flickers in your lilac eyes.
“And… will you help me, brother? Or shall I ask Jacaerys for help instead? We ought to wed in a moon's turn after all,” your voice is honeyed as you speak, dripping with feigned innocence. “But you don’t want that, do you? That’s why you’ve stayed.”
You spot the exact moment his breath hitches in his throat. He suddenly feels a wave of heat overcoming him, your words triggering something in him that is more than just the usual desire to protect his younger sister, something primal. You sound and look so vulnerable asking for his help, secretly begging for him and him only.
Intertwining your fingers with his, the intensity of your grip increasing as your senses become more heightened, your twin finally moves as you pull him onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as you watch him come closer, and when he is close enough, you reach and pull him down onto you in a quick motion. You don’t waste a second more and lock your lips with his, your hand slowly traveling down his back. But before you can grab his tunic and pull it over his head, Aemond pushes you back to lie flatly on the bed, pinning your wrists above your head. His eye burns with hunger as he gazes down at you, visible even in the dim light, and it makes you yearn for more.
“Well, if I chose to leave you here to your own devices, would you crawl to your betrothed for help? I do not think so,” he says, his voice taking over a mocking tone. “No, in fact, I’m certain you would come to my chambers instead.”
When he doesn’t touch you, you try to wrap your legs around his body to grind yourself against him, but Aemond is quick to catch your hip with one hand, keeping your body still as it's pinned to the mattress.
“Sir, dohaeragon nyke,” you beg, voice shaky enough it comes close to a whimper. But when you notice that speaking in the tongue of your ancestors is not having any effect on him at all, you choose to coax him to tend to you in the Common Tongue. “Touch me, Aemond. Help me… please.” Now, help me.
Aemond is silent for a moment, visibly dragging his eye over your squirming frame. One hand still holds your wrists above your head, while the other slowly but surely releases your hip. “I shall take care of you,” he reassures you. “But you will have to let me, do you understand?”
You gaze up at him with wide eyes and slowly nod your head, only for you to pounce on him the moment your wrists are released. The tunic is gone as soon as your body collides with his, causing a strained gasp to leave your twin’s lips. While just the thoughts of his warm skin on yours have incite your mind already, seeing his bare chest sets your body alight.
His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and he has never treated you as roughly as he does when he pushes you off of him. It leaves you dumbfounded for a moment, more so when he moves between your parted legs, towering over you.
“Look how dull this fluid has made you,” he mocks, the condescending tone of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. Aemond notices that you’re not shying away from him, no, you keen at that. “Just because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“If I help you,” he warns, “no one else, let alone that bastard of a nephew, is ever allowed to touch you again, do you understand?”
It might be the liquid-induced state, or the despair to have him do anything to you already, but you’re far too eager to nod at his words.
Aemond’s hand wanders below the hem of your nightgown to heartily fist your undergarments and peel them off of you. He can already feel that the linen is soaked with your arousal, but still can’t stop himself from licking his lips as he sees your now exposed cunt glistening in the light of the candles.
“Now, we do not want you to suffer any longer, hm?” he asks.
And you nod once again. “Gods, yes, please. I need you, Aemond.”
You don’t have to beg him any longer. He undoes the laces in the front of his breeches and pulls out his throbbing cock, painfully hard and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s slightly curved and thick, and if you have to guess, you’d say that you need both hands to pleasure him, and even then there’d still be a bit of him that would be left abandoned.
Aemond wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance, pushing into you as you both moan in unison. You don’t expect him to set up a merciless pace almost immediately upon fully bottoming out, but you’re not disappointed either.
While you’ve been able to talk before, he’s quickly reduced you to a whimpering and whining mess, relishing in the delicious burning of accommodating his sheer size.
“Does it help?” your twin asks through gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep his sounds of pleasure at bay. But you’ve been fucked into a stupor by him already, not even able to keep your eyes open. “Mh-mh,” you hum.
Putting some of his weight onto you, Aemond’s hand finds your throat like the most treasured necklace you only take off to sleep, taking up the entirety of your neck and leaving no room for you to shift even the slightest.
It was subtle at first, but the merciless pace slowly changes into something more determined, his hips rolling with each thrust as if he wants to make sure the tip of his cock really brushes your sweet spot every time. He’s seemingly spurred on by the way you’ve lost all inhibitions, not that the fluid allowed you to have any in the first place, and the wanton moans that spill past your lips.
One of your hands grabs his wrist, keeping his hand around your throat, while the other finds solace on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Your nails dig into his alabaster skin, and you’re sure that crescent shaped marks will bloom there not long after, staking your claim on him.
“But you need more,” Aemond grunts, and you can’t do more than whimper a pathetic string of yesses. “The only thing that will truly help you is for me to fill you up with my seed, to breed you.”
Your head tips back in plain bliss, and you’re not sparing one thought to the possible repercussions of him putting a child in you. If anything, there is something buried deeply inside of you that has waited for this moment. You have waited for this moment. You grew up thinking you’d marry your twin one day, only for the rising tensions inside of the family to force you to marry your nephew instead as the final straw to mend the chasm.
Aemond’s stamina doesn’t seem to be able to handle the way your body reacts to him and his words – not when a renewed wave of your arousal drips from your cunt at the mere thought of you carrying his child. It’s running thin, ready to burst at any given moment, hence he brings a deft finger to your pearl, rubbing it with frantic movements that should bring you to peak just in time with him.
The pressure brought to your pearl has your body squirming, not anticipating it and the shiver of pleasure that comes with it. You arch your back and moan, yet a tight squeeze of your throat is enough to bring your attention back to him.
“Do you want that?” he pants, dark blown eyes fixed with yours. “Want me to put a babe in you?” It might be his way to ask for your reassurance, and while your body’s reaction should be enough with your walls clenching around him so tightly, he stills wants to hear your voice.
Your cheeks grow hot as his words finally seem to settle in your hazed mind, a whiny ‘yes’ slipping past your lips. “Fill me up, Aemond… please. I want it,” you all but beg, your voice croaked with him squeezing your throat.
The confession flips a switch inside of you that allows you to let go, your body shattering beneath Aemond with a pathetic whine. He relishes in the way your walls flutter and spasm all over him, utterly mesmerized as relief etches itself into your features.
With a groan, the first wanton sound of pleasure you’ve heard of him, Aemond spends himself inside of you. He connects your lips in a heated kiss that has you swallowing down each grunt and groan he unleashes. Working you both through the blissful highs, his hips only stop once he’s sure he’s fucked his seed as deep as possible, determined to put a child in you.
Aemond topples over into the vacant space next to you, his breeches soaked with your arousal and his chest heaving with his breaths.
The sudden loss of friction makes you whine at first, but is quickly overshadowed by the feeling of relief. “Thank you,” you whisper through heavy breaths, turning your head to look at him.
“I won’t leave now,” he says softly, although there is a linger of mischief in his voice. “I would be remiss not to aid my sister in her hour of utmost desperation… so, I shall stay the night just to make sure you really get through it.”
Aemond Taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu @legitalicat
#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction#aemond x reader#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#aemond x fem!reader#aemond stannies#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond smut#aemond fic#aemond imagine#hotd x y/n#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd fanfic#hotd imagine#hotd fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic
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are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri
oscar piastri x reader
warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]
request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?
note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!
It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.
Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.
By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.
“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.
You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.
Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.
“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.
Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.
“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”
Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach.
“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”
Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.
“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.
“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”
It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.
Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.
“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”
Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side.
“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.
The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body.
“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”
The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.
y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#f1 one shot#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 blurb#oscar piastri blurb#blurb#writing#fluff#pierregazly's 1.5k celebration
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k but what would your characters do if Commander gave them a box to look after but they were told whatever they do, do NOT look inside?
hmmm now I'm curious what MC is putting in there
Vethna: I think this depends on MC's personality. If MC is genuine, they'd really want to look, and they'd probably just pout a lot, but they wouldn't. If MC was stoic or aggressive, Vethna would take it a lot more seriously and just not look at all-- they'd probably assume it's something bad or dangerous. And if MC is sarcastic, they'll immediately open it the second MC even kinda turns away, fully expecting it to just be empty or something stupid.
Nikke: Would depend on MC's body language! If MC read as being super serious, he probably wouldn't open it and would smack other people's hands away who try to. Definitely spends the entire time wondering what the actual fuck is inside the box. If MC is just screwing with him, and he'll know if they are (trust me), then he'll be like "Oh, yeah for sure, mhm, whatever you say Captain," super sarcastically and then just immediately rip the top off.
Jost: "Okay." (Proceeds to do exactly as asked and hold it until MC comes back for it. If MC never does... oh well.)
Amilia: Asks a billion questions as to why she cannot open the box. Is there something hidden in there? Is it dangerous? Is it a gift? For her or someone else? Is it something embarrassing? Does peeking through a gap in the lid but otherwise keeping the lid on count as opening...?If she's super close with MC, she won't open it, but she'll be oh, so very restless about it. Otherwise... yeah, she's peeking. Sorry. Choose someone more responsible!
Sabir: "Okay... why...?" Would not look in it, even if he thinks it's a prank. Would be very suspicious about the box regardless. Proceeds to try and subtly ask MC in a million different ways what is in the box and will not stop prodding until MC tells him. I mean this could literally last for years. MC forgets about it and then they'll be hanging out years later, MC confiding in him, and Sabir will just... "you know what ELSE was a secretive, sensitive topic...?"
Syfyn: Raises a brow, stares at the box, then takes it and does as asked. I don't think she'd care what's in the box, or if there even is anything in the box. Like even if MC was just pranking her and it was empty, she'd still carry it around. She'd probably know it was empty too and just be like "man I wonder why this empty box is so important to MC. I better keep it safe for them."
Freedom: Why would you even do that. Why. You could literally hand them Pandora's box, make it clear it's Pandora's box, and Freedom would be like "oh that's sick" and then pop the top right off.
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genuine question: do people want bad, inconsistent writing? is that it? because that's the only way "taiyang is and always has been a horrible father and yang had to raise ruby all on her own and she resent him for it" makes any damn sense.
like. where's the resentment?
where is yang, while happy that ruby is one step closer to achieving her lifelong dream, feeling just slightly frustrated that she's once again sharing a room with her sister, when going to beacon was supposed to be a place just for her for at least two years without having to watch after ruby and feel guilty over it?
where's the resentment when tai sent zwei to the girls to be taken care of while he's away on a mission, placing that responsibility on yang again? why show yang instead being flippant about the whole ordeal, and shrugging it off like it's nothing, being ready to leave zwei alone in the dorm room for the week they're away because he has the absurd amount of food and a can opener tai provided them?
where's yang bringing up how she had to apparently grow up early because tai wasn't there, when she wanted to be treated like an adult?
where's the resentment when yang was about to leave home under the assumption it was her keeping her father from going after ruby, only to find out he isn't coming with her, once again leaving the responsibility of taking care of ruby on her shoulders?
because the show i watched, it doesn't exist. to even remotely get to that point you'd have to ignore ruby talking about their dad in a way that makes it clear he was present and raising them, you'd have to ignore yang having to wait for him to be out of the house to leave herself once again proving he was present and attentive of them, you'd have to ignore ruby's first happy memory being from that same time period (and with no corresponding sad memory to counter it), you'd have to ignore him reading them bedtime stories and taking them out for boba after school, making sure he's spending time with them even when he's busy with work.
you'd have to ignore that both yang and ruby have a good relationship with their father.
that is not to say tai doesn't have his flaws—every damn character in this show does—, but that's exactly what V4 is about. the rift that existed between yang and taiyang was his refusal to talk about raven and doing his best to prevent her from looking for her. that's it. just compare the difference in tone between yang's "oh, so now we can talk about her?" and "i don't know. some things you just need to be there for." and it's clear as a day where the resentment actually lies.
therein lies the core of the arc between yang and tai, and like many issues between characters in this show, it gets resolved: for the first time ever, he properly talks with yang about raven, and when yang is about to leave, he doesn't try to stop her like he has before; instead, he asks her where she's going, and gives information that might help make her journey easier.
if they intended there to be any lingering resentment from yang, 'boba' was not the way to do it. we know what yang's resentment looks like: anger, snappiness, the like. it's not quiet, almost somber.
they could have written yang treating tai's absence in vacuo as something she has come to expect from him, but they didn't; instead, she wonders why, because she can't fathom what could be more important for their father than being there, in vacuo, with them.
and that alone comes as validation for everyone who has wondered the same: why is tai staying in patch when everyone else is on the move? this is a character we're first properly introduced to as a father who has fallen asleep by his daughter's bedside waiting for her to wake up, a father who is almost brought to tears by relief that both of his daughters are back home and safe.
a father we last saw being absolutely desperate for his daughter to come back on screen when ruby's message cut short.
and beyond brings a sledgehammer and says yes, it is odd that taiyang hasn't left home to be by his daughters' side. wonder why that is, must be something important, wink wink ;)
and if you ask me, that sounds like a pretty damn good "long con", and damn good writing.
#rwby#taiyang xiao long#yang xiao long#ruby rose#the disrespect this family gets smh#make it make sense folks!!!
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nika muhl hcs of her love languages?
𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 ─ NK¹⁰
─ word count | 329
─ warnings | nothing but fluff!
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @paigeszn @ekisokau @plushkhiii and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
─ ev's notes | i tried a new style! of course i'm still gonna do normal headcanons but this style felt a little better, i hope yall enjoy!!
QUALITY TIME
Nika loves spending her free time with the people she genuinely loves. If she doesn't really care for you, she will never ever spend more than a moment with you if she doesn't care about you. In her eyes, her time is incredibly valuable so she only spends time with people she cares about (or at least, likes)
Any time she isn't at practice or games, she's with you. She's in your dorm, just relishing in your company. She doesn't even necessarily even have to be talking with you ─ you both could be doing your own things, it's just being around you that she likes. It helps her destress, knowing that she can spend time with you without putting too much energy into it. Your energy recharges hers, it's her favorite thing in the world.
ACTS OF SERVICE
Anytime you need anything, and I truly mean anything ─ she will do it for you. Whether it's as simple as washing the dishes or having to drive an hour to pick you up. She will do it.
Again, she thinks her time is incredibly valuable so when she does these things for you, she does it out of the love she has for you. Nika also loves the feeling of being needed, it makes her just feel all warm and full because like... yes! You need her for something!
GIFT-GIVING
Oh my god, she loves to spoil you! And she does it with incredibly expensive things because she is a very bougie girl so she wants her baby to be just as (if not more) bougie as her!
It fulfills her in a way that's like the anticipation leading up to the moment when you unwrap the carefully chosen present awaiting your reaction. This love language is a tangible expression of her love for you. It's her way of showing how much you mean to her and how grateful she is to have you in her life.
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#nika muhl x reader#nika muhl imagine#nika mühl#nika muhl#uconn#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#ncaaw#ncaa tournament#ncaa#ncaa women’s basketball#ncaa wbb#uconn wcbb#wcbb x reader#wcbb
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Ice Brady nsfw and fluff hcs pls😭🙏🏾 not enough love for my girl frl frl
ICE BRADY AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND HEADCANONS — SFW AND NSFW
Warnings: suggestions of sex, “bullying,” fluff, idfk a happy couple???? that upsets people sometimes and i don’t understand, but hey!
Author’s Note: this request made me SO happy, you don’t even know, ice is so beautiful to me and so underrated.
SFW
— Your favorite thing to do is to catch Ice off guard just to mess with her, so I feel you’d probably walk by her and flick her forehead or something stupid.
— You keep her favorite snacks on hand. I’m talking about in your car, in your backpack, in your room (you probably have a mini fridge or something), literally anywhere you can keep them because she’ll ask. And it doesn’t bother you to do this, you do it in part because you want to.
— The both of you keep hair ties on your wrists for one another. It’s the thought of being considered that matters to her.
— You guys watch “Is It Cake” together. Every couple needs their show and this one is yours. Ice threatens here and there to watch it without you if you do something she doesn’t like.
— You share a stuffed animal from Build-A-Bear and it’s 100% your child. I feel like it’d come up on a live or something. Maybe you walk in on one of KK’s very interesting livestreams and you’re like “where’s the baby?” The comments would go nuts about this alleged baby.
— I don’t think PDA would be Ice’s thing, the most I could see her doing is some hand-holding and maybe a kiss on the forehead if you get lucky. I feel like she’s just private in that way.
Imagine you’re sitting in on a practice, catching up on homework while she and the team works. You’re typing away when Ice comes over for a water break, and you bother you.
“Hi, babe,” you smile up at her.
She smiles too, her eyes forming little crescent moons. She leans over quickly and kisses your forehead. “What’s this?” Ice motions to the computer resting on your lap.
“Assignment for Dr. Smith. I’m worn out,” you reply, putting your laptop on the vacant chair next to you.
She grabs your hands, pulling you up. “Take a break and join us then.”
— Ice doesn’t give me jealous vibes either, she knows that you’re hers and she’s yours imo.
Maybe someone comments on an Instagram post or approaches you in person, I don’t think Ice would care that much. She’s not insecure and I think she might even try her hardest not to laugh.
Imagine it’s a hot summer day and you guys decided to go get shaved ice.
You and Ice approach the stand, both getting whatever you want, but you both always end up sharing anyway.
“Someone’s looking at you,” Ice sings into your ear, poking your side.
You glance over, eyeing a group of guys at a table a few paces away. One of them is particularly starstruck by your beauty.
“Ew,” you roll your eyes. “Kiss me,” you beg.
Ice shakes her head, her blonde braids moving. “I don’t really want to spoil his fun.”
— I also feel like with her, you’d never stop laughing. Ice is genuinely so fucking funny you’d have abs after spending a few hours with her.
— Of course, you get her rebounds for her 🥰.
NSFW
— I feel like toys are a no 🌚… just no.
— Praise kink 1000%
— I feel like Ice definitely has the stamina, she could go multiple times if she really wanted to.
— She’s out like a light after doing the deed, though.
— I get sub vibes, don’t ask why, I just get the feeling.
— *clears throat* exhibitionist
— I think Ice would like hickies or open-mouthed kisses for sure. Foreplay for the win 🫶🏾 I think she might not even want to cover them up, but might do it anyway just so that people don’t say anything, you know?
— I think there are definitely some fantasies and things that you both would want to try. I think she’d be open to it as long as it’s not something that’s objectively weird… iykyk.
— HAIR PULLING 🙉
#meech la major#meech’s thoughts#uconn wbb#ice brady#ice brady x reader#ice brady headcanons#kk arnold x reader#kk arnold#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers
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BSF!Nick HeadCanons
nick x fem!reader
disclaimer: this is all fictional, and based on my own conclusions.
warnings: kinda long, very very self-indulgent, pure fluff, swearing.
Nick as your best friend:
⚤ he loves to spend time with you, always asking you to come over and keep him company.
⚤ the two of you are so close and so comfortable with each other that you tell each other everything, the good, bad, and the ugly.
⚤ he’s protective, not overly, but you always know that you’re safe with him. he’s not letting any hate get to you, and if it does he’s always there to comfort you. he doesn’t hesitate to put haters in their place when it comes to you, not caring about any backlash it could cause him.
⚤ you both send tik toks and instagram reels back and forth all day long.
⚤ you share locations with each other, and anytime he checks and sees that you’re somewhere he doesn’t recognize he’s calling you immediately:
“bitch! where the fuck are you???”
“nick, are you fr checking my location again?”
“yes, now take your fast ass home”
⚤ when you’re sick, he’ll come over and help take care of you. attempting (failing) to make you soup, but then decides to just order in from panera. he’ll cuddle up with you while you watch movies or some reality tv show.
⚤ he’s always teasing and making fun of you, you both playfully argue so much that people on the outside think you actually hate each other.
⚤ you’re on the phone with each other for literal hours, whether it’s texting, on a call, or on FaceTime.
⚤ if you’re in college, he’ll make sure you stay on top of your studies. he’ll never let you put off schoolwork just to go hang out with him:
“nick come onnn, i can study when i get back, it’s fine i promise”
“un uhh, nope! you’re not gonna blame me when your ass fails”
“but ni-“
“GO STUDY Y/N”
⚤ he loves when you go shopping or thrifting together. he’ll pick out outfits for you to try, and you do the same for him. the both of you hyping each other up when you come out of the dressing rooms.
“yesss girl, you look so amazing in that dress!”
“says you, i love that shirt on you, it’s definitely your color!”
⚤ he’s a big foodie, and so are you. so breakfast and/or lunch dates are a staple in your friendship. he loves going to your favorite restaurant or cafe to just sit and talk about whatever and whoever. sometimes you like to try out new places and add them to your list.
⚤ he’ll send you flowers or candy on valentine’s day because he’s such a sweetheart, and never wants you to feel alone or unloved.
⚤ he’s always gassing you. he never hesitates to call you pretty or gorgeous, saying how much he loves your outfit, your hair, or your new bag. he’s your number one hype man for sure. you of course, are the same way with him never passing up an opportunity to let him know he’s so handsome and the baddest bitch.
⚤ you’re pretty much the ceo of the nick defense team, always on go when it comes to people being disrespectful towards him.
⚤ he’s basically your personal photographer. he loves taking your pictures for you, and you love to brag about his skills. he loves when you take pictures together as well, adding them to his photo dumps, giving very much bff goals.
⚤ since he doesn’t drive he loves riding with you, he even bought a “passenger princess” sticker to put on your glovebox just for shits and giggles. sometimes you guys would just spend the day riding out, blasting music and singing along, snacking on the random goodies you pick up along the way, just simply enjoying each others company.
“bitches be quick but i’m quicker”
“bitches be thick but i’m thicker”
*both*
“SHE COULD BE RICH BUT IM RICHER!”
⚤ if you’re in a relationship or get into one, he’ll be very protective over you, yet respectful of your relationship. he’ll make friends with them, and try his best to get along for the sake of your friendship. he’ll even plan group outings so you all can hang out together and get to know each other.
⚤ however, the second you call him in the night crying, he’s ubering over to your house to comfort you. he’ll hug you and wipe your tears, reassuring you that you deserve so much better than them.
“you’re amazing and i love you so much, y/n. you didn’t deserve that, and if you want, we can go egg their car right now”
“you get the eggs, i’ll start the car”
“BET!”
⚤ he doesn’t believe in fighting with friends. any arguments between the two of you wouldn’t last very long, you’ll always end up talking things out and laughing about it later.
⚤ he loves to include in the videos, especially any challenges they do like the baking videos. you always get front seat if you’re ever in the car videos, and he makes sure you get to speak.
⚤ he absolutely loves the bond you have with his brothers, and you would tease him about liking one of them solely to get on his nerves:
“matt has been looking really good lately..”
“y/n i swear to god…”
“what?? i’m just being real”
“i’ll actually kill you both”
“bitch, shutttt up! you love me too much”
“you’re right. now stop talking about matt before i throw the fuck up”
⚤ if the stars happen to align where you and one of his brothers fall in love and actually get together, he’ll be so annoyed at first, not willing to share you. eventually he’ll be okay with it, just happy that you both are happy, as long as you keep the pda out of his line of sight.
⚤ he fucking loves your cooking. he knows better than get in your way by trying to help so he’ll sit at the table and watch you. you don’t mind his company at all while you’re cooking, even letting him taste test which he never refuses. he’s constantly calling or texting to see what’s on your menu:
“please please PLEASE tell me you’re cooking tonight. i cannot eat in n out again”
“well, i guess i am now”
⚤ you always have him, matt, and chris over on Sunday’s. you love giving them the ultimate sunday dinner experience. you make sure you cook more than enough so they have some to take home as well.
⚤ any time one of you sees those cute and fun best friend date activities on tik tok or instagram, you’re instantly texting it to one another, making plans to try it out.
⚤ when you take him out to the club or a just night out with the girlies, he’s having the time of his life. he’s hyping you up while you’re dancing and throwing it in a circle. he’ll capture every second to show to you later cause you’re so gone you won’t remember a thing. the next day he’s asking you to teach him how to twerk like that for the next outing.
⚤ since you have similar music taste, you love going to concerts and festivals together. all in coachella with your matching crop tops and boots, turning heads left and right. you two are literally glued to the hip the whole weekend, holding hands and jumping around, dancing to the beat just loving the experience.
⚤ he absolutely loves sleepovers, and he’ll always be the one to suggest them. he’ll have a space for you in his closet and at his sink because of how often you stay over.
“bro is there a reason you called me 15 times??”
“uh is this the body scrub that you use? i’m gonna get it for my bathroom so you don’t have to keep bringing yours every time”
“nick, you really could’ve just tex-“
“YES OR NO??!”
⚤ whenever you sleep over, you always do your nighttime and morning skin routines together. ‘faerie soirée’ playing softly on the portable speaker while you go through your skincare steps, singing along, and swaying your hips to the beat.
⚤ he is obsessed with the different ways you style your hair. his jaw drops every time you pull up with something new. he was completely gobsmacked when you showed up with a 30 inch bust down after just rocking your natural fro, then two weeks later in some knotless braids down to your knees. he’s always asking your opinion on his next hair color, but you beg him to keep his natural hair for a while longer.
⚤ he always waits to get his nails done with you so you both can match. in the days before your appointments with analysse, he’s sending you different ideas he sees on pinterest for you both to choose from only to ultimately decide to just let analysse freestyle.
⚤ when it comes to his brand, space camp, he’s always giving you the sneak peeks. he’ll let you be the first one to try the newest flavor because he trusts your judgment, and knows that you’ll always be honest with him:
“okay, what about this one? did you like it?”
“friend, i ain’t gone hold you…that shit nasty as fuck”
“well damn bitch, tell me how you really feel. okay, we’ll scrap that one”
⚤ he loves when you come to boston with him to visit his family. mary lou and jimmy absolutely adore you, and so does all his hometown friends nate, mckayla, and chloe.
⚤ the snap streaks between you two go crazy. you’re both constantly snapping each other the most random shit.
⚤ he’s always telling you about the guys he’s crushing on or talking to. he’ll ask you if you think they’re cute or not, and wants advice on what to say to them. if they send him nudes, better believe he’s immediately sending them to you for you both to talk (or laugh) about:
“girl you won’t believe what he just sent me”
“ouuu how big is it?”
“bitch, i’ve seen baby carrots bigger than that”
“BLOCKED!”
⚤ on halloween, you guys love to find matching costumes (when he’s not matching with matt and chris) and sometimes the four of you would find costumes to match together.
⚤ on your birthday, don’t be surprised to find yourself plastered all over his story. he’s posting a photo dump of you together with a lil paragraph, going on and on about how amazing his best friend is. you’ll have gifts galore from him, matt, and chris.
⚤ he’s super supportive of whatever you do, helping you in any way you can to achieve whatever it is you need to.
⚤ he’s the perfect best friend and he takes the bond that you have very seriously, never letting anyone or anything jeopardize it.
🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @matty-bear @sturniolossss @imsosillygoofylol @nickgetsmewetter @mybelovednick @moonk1ss3d @ghostking4m @certifiednatelover @meg-sturniolo
#mr stromboli#stromboli hc#sturniolo triplets#sturniolos#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#a headcanon#bsf!nick hc
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ViVi Magazine, June 2024 Issue
ft. Murakami Erica, Watanabe Aoto & Ikeda Masashi
(translations below)
Publication: 4/23/2024
The King-Ohger co stars are a friendly trio
Murakami Erica x Watanabe Aoto x Ikeda Masashi
Enjoying genderless "share t-shirts"
If you incorporate a unisex t-shirt into your outfit, you can achieve an easy, high end fashionable look 💛. It's also nice to share and enjoy them together with your boyfriend or friends.
Q: Tell us about a recent TMI (too much info)
Ikeda: For me, my chapstick always ends up somewhere before it's used up. Where does it always go?!
Erica: I've been busy moving across the country due to my family's relocation! I decluttered more than 10 bags during the cleanup. I think luck is coming my way 💛
Watanabe: TMI……you mean like blood sugar level?! Ah, that's not it either (laughs). My allergies act up during the first week of pollen season, but after that I'm fine. There are other people like that, right?
Q: What do you want to do this Spring?
Erica: I want to relax in the shade of a tree when it becomes warmer. I want to buy some dangos and donuts and spend my time watching movies and dramas.
Watanabe: Cherry blossom viewing. It's so fleeting when the cherry blossoms fall……(he gently holds Ikeda's hand). I'd like to eat a handmade bento while taking in the scent of Spring…(he gazes at Ikeda).
Ikeda: I'd like to challenge myself to go camping. Things like outdoor BBQ's are just the best, aren't they? At night, with Aoto beside me, we'd talk while looking at the stars……
Watanabe: In the tent, Masashi and I would be curled up in the same blanket. It gets cold at night, so…..
Erica: Alright, that's enough of that!! (laughs).
_
"Introduce each other to the ViVi readers!"
Ikeda: Erieri's (Erica) face is really too small! Her skull's a champion. She's the big sister among the King-Ohger members.
Watanabe: Yeah. She's an airhead, but very caring!
Erica: Eh~ Thank you 💛. Aoto feels like the kind older brother, while Masashi is the second oldest who says too much.
Watanabe: Masashi is by far the whitest! He's like a reflector, illuminating everywhere he goes (laughs).
"What do you think of today's t-shirts?"
Erica: I like the loose fit. The shoulders are dyed unevenly, giving it a cute vintage look! I think you can wear it with denim for a masculine look, or match it with a miniskirt!
Ikeda: My "remake t-shirt" has a zipper and alternate designs that give off the feeling of an incomplete main character. This is cute on its own, but the jacket wrapped around the waist gives it a more feminine look.
Watanabe: Heart motifs worn by men are pretty rare, right? Depending on your hair style, you can wear it as cool or cute!
"If you exchanged t-shirts, how would you wear them?"
Erica: If I were to wear Aoto's heart t-shirt, I'd wear it with a mini skirt, lace socks, and mary janes for a "naughty girly" look!
Ikeda: If I were to wear Erieri's t-shirt, I'd make use of colors and patterns to create a one tone look!
Watanabe: Then, I'll wear Masashi's remake t-shirt with a unique hat and shoes to give it alittle more character. I want to go to a theme park while looking good.
_
(Bottom of page)
(Masashi)
Pure white prince (Isn't he too fleeting? he's going to disappear).
by Aoto
(Erica)
Princess Erica, of divine skeletal structure, descends here.
by Masashi
(Aoto)
Isn't he a genuine model?! I'm now realizing his appeal!
by Erica
#erica denying us heated drama between men 😠#super sentai cast#erica murakami#murakami erica#aoto watanabe#watanabe aoto#masashi ikeda#ikeda masashi#vivi magazine#my scans#my translation#toku cast#kingohger cast#ohsama sentai kingohger#kingohger#super sentai#hymeno ran#yanma gast#jeramie brasieri#fashion
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just revisited scs, and was wondering if pearl still joins hermitcraft in season 8 as she does? and if so, what are three's thoughts and feelings on this? if we go by hermitcraft rules, it'd have to had voted her in, and it does care about pearl in some capacity due to her link with martyn and jimmy so it'd want her somewhere safe, but is their relationship still rocky at that point? has it gotten better? and how does it evolve through their time on hermitcraft? is boatem still a thing, or do three and pearl give each other more space?
sorry if you've answered something like this before, but i'm curious
so here's how it goes in my head, although as always, anyone is free to have their own headcanons for it:
so by season eight, given the messy timeline i've created, three has had some time and distance. additionally, i like to think that it and everyone else DID keep up their promises to stay in contact. pearl and three's relationship will probably never be as close as pearl and grian's, but pearl is TRYING and three is willing to give her a shot when they're not standing right next to each other and she isn't in the middle of grief as much, so they form a tentative bond.
pearl doesn't join season eight because of three; three doesn't invite her. however, i'd like to think that pearl, maybe on the prodding of "her friends are actually talking to her again", has tentatively started doing her own builds again and showing them off and something like that dragon build of her blows up. so when names are being floated for season eight, and someone's already floated gem as a possibility, someone says pearl's name. and three doesn't know. three doesn't know if they'll be able to handle each other living on the same server. but it's now been at least a year and a half since scs and with scs's messy timeline probably longer, right. three is much more self-assured and has a better idea of who it is. and like, it thinks about it, but maybe pearl gives away she's still living on evo in a call, and three thinks about it, and...
the thing is: three had needed someone to say "you can come here when you run away" two years ago about the same thing. it can at least try.
this is to say: pearl joining hermitcraft is not three's idea or three's invitation. but three gives her its endorsement, and eventually its vote. pearl joins in season eight. three and pearl then proceed to try to completely avoid each other for like, at least a month. i don't want to take pearl and impulse bonding away from the world, so i think maybe pearl still bases near there, but the friendship groups in three's timeline are a little shifted ANYWAY, even if they're similar, so we can shift people around a little. maybe three drags mumbo off to go follow iskall and etho into the shattered savannah. god, can you imagine, actually, that would be hysterical.
but the thing is, even though the hermits spend a lot of time alone, they also spend a lot of time together, and like... three IS friends with impulse. and it is Conspicuous that they're avoiding each other, and they can't do it forever. it's pearl who screws her courage to the sticking place first and invites three to help her with an interior room of her build. three, not actually quite good enough at emotions to recognize "here come do an interior, thing i know grian hated but you like" as the very deliberate olive branch it is but good enough at emotions to know it probably shouldn't avoid, accepts.
and it goes... well. it surprises both of them how well it goes, actually. maybe it shouldn't; they've been in contact after all, and they've had time to soothe and process their relationship. they part back to their own bases again with the promise to do it again, and they do not avoid each other for the rest of the season. they don't seek each other out, often--they're not quite ready for that--but they don't avoid each other, either.
it's not perfect. pearl still sometimes looks at three like she's looking at a dead man. three still sometimes wants to scream when she does.
but there are many times, now, when they can forget how they met in the first place, and just chat about build pallets and pranks and shapes and llamas and everything else together.
that's close enough to healing.
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Hİİİİ YET ANOTHER ANON
Can I ask about Creepypasta ages headcanons in your main AU??
THANK YOU FROM NOW <333
HIIIIIIII NEW ANON, YOU'RE SO SWEET<3333
Okay thank you so much for asking, you guys are literally spoiling me, like I'm having a little heart attack whenever someone asks me something.
I don't want this post just be numbers so I'll give a random fact about main characters' most important birthday day and something about non-human characters, hope you don't mind. It's mostly angst and I'm so sorry about that.
YOU'RE WELCOME AND I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT<333
I know most of the ages sound ridiculous but it's really hard to attach them all together :(
Characters' Ages And Facts About Main Characters' Most Important Birthday
Au's ships: TicciWork, NinaKate, MaryJane and Bloody Angel(probably should've said this earlier)
Current year: 2014
Main characters
-Jeff The Killer: 20
Jeff got burned at the age of 15, at his most important birthday. His parents were seeing a therapist while Liu was still in prison, and his therapist made a suggestion to Jeff's parents to organize a birthday party for cheering Jeff up. Jeff can never forget the day he was burned alive because his whole life was shaped by it. That's why he hates his own birthday and attacks if anyone tries to celebrate besides Liu.
- Clockwork: 20
Clockwork's most important birthday is the 18th age. Because that was the first year she wasn't on her own. Jeff, Toby, Nina were close friends of Clockwork at the time and each had their own small-scale celebration. For the first time, Clockwork didn't hate her own birthday. That's how she got into the habit of celebrating other people's birthdays, if she felt good about something stupid like that, the people who cared about her might also deserve to feel good in a stupid way, or something like that.
- Hoodie: 25
According to Brian, the most important birthday is the one he celebrated at the age of 10. His family had taken him to see a theater as a gift, and little Brian was so impressed that he was literally obsessed with theater performances and musicals after that show. Even though 10-year-old Brian is the reason why he is where he is right now, Hoodie never blames him for following his dream.
- Masky: 26
His most important birthday is the 20th, when he started working under Slenderman's orders. The year he realized that his life would be like this and that he would have to spend more than he hoped in this job, that fighting would only cause him to die sooner. Obviously, he didn't care about himself, he'd rather die than live this way, but he didn't want to leave Brian alone.
- Ticci Toby: 19
15th birthday. The last year he celebrated with Lyra and his mother since he was a proxy at the age of 16, he celebrated rest of his birthdays as a proxy. Toby doesn't remember all of his memories, and although most of the time his memories are more like pieces, he knows that two women named Lyra and Connie are worth worlds to him. And every time the fragments of that birthday come in front of him, he feels nothing but happiness.
-Eyeless Jack: 21
↺Actually, if he was still alive, he would have been 34. Because he was 21 when he died during the ritual in 1980.
The most important birthday is the year he received the letter of admission to medical school at the age of 18. He had received this a letter a few days ago, and he and his family had thrown a big party to celebrate it. Although he spent his 19th birthday, his first year of studying med, with his family, the most important thing for him is his 18th age.
-Jane The Killer: 22
21, when Mary proposed to her on her birthday. Jane was in a very emotionally repressed state after all her trauma, and Mary could no longer control her feelings for her. While Jane and her lover Mary were sitting in a fashionable restaurant, Mary proposed to Jane. And when there was a lot of opposition because the age group was generally old due to the cost of the restaurant, Jane kissed her on the lips so as not to discourage Mary. The best birthday of her life.
-X-Virus: 17
7th age. That year, he had gone to the zoo on a school trip and celebrated his birthday with the animals there instead of people. This is the biggest proof that he prefer animals' existence to humans. Of course, he might have been happier if a monkey hadn't stolen his food, but little Cody wasn't mad at the monkey then. And when the monkey saw that Cody was upset later, he gave him some of his food anyway.
-Nina The Killer: 19
16th birthday. She and Jeff hadn't made up yet and it was a day when she was really hurt emotionally by him. Her close friend Kate, who saw this, tried to kill Jeff. Although Nina could hardly stop her, Kate was convinced later and they went to hang out at Kate's special place together. Kate was a really special friend to Nina, and she liked that she knew that Kate opened herself up so much. And when Kate dropped her home in the evening, she found Toby and Clockwork were clumsily trying to celebrate her birthday, she cried because of cuteness.
-Kate The Chaser: 20
The first year she spent with Nina as a lover, 20th age. They had become lovers a few months ago, and unlike other proxies, Kate did not remember anything about her past, so she had no memories to miss. Nina had known her since she found Jeff at the age of 15 and was after him. They became close friends when Kate was 17 and Nina was 16, and they started dating when Nina was 19 and Kate was 20. Their relationship began when Kate took pity on Nina and helped her, and Nina helped her during difficult times where Kate tried to expertize in proxy work. The year they became lovers, Nina organized a special day just for the two of them, knowing that she wouldn't want a big party, and Kate's favorite moment was when they watched the sunset with one head phone.
Main supporting characters
-Homicidal Liu: 18
-Sally: 13
↺If she was still alive, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1972.
-Ben Drowned: 12
↺If he had continued to live, he would have been 32 years old. He died in 1994.
- Puppeteer: 23
↺ If his heart was still beating, he would have been 37 years old. He died in 2000.
-Zero: 24
-Nurse Ann: 27
↺If her heart had been alive, she would have been 33 years old. She died in 2008.
-Bloody Painter: 17
-Judge Angels: 17
-Mary Vaughn: 22
Supporting characters
-Lulu: 16
-Laughing Jack: 214
↺He was produced in 1800.
-Nightmare Ally: 15
↺If she was still human, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1974.
- Kagekao: 29
↺If he was still a human, he would have been 34 years old. He died in 2009.
-Rouge: 32
-Jason The Toymaker: 134
↺He was produced in 1880.
-Laughing Jill: 114
↺She was produced in 1900.
Background characters
-Slenderman: 2500+(?)
↺It is not known exactly when he was born, some say that there are drawings of him even in ancient Egypt.
- Emra: 25
↺If she was still alive, she would have been 37 years old. She died in 2002.
-Dr. Smiley: 33
-Cat Hunter: 30
-Zalgo: ?
↺It is estimated that his existence endured back even before the earliest times of humanity.
-Weeping Forest: 16
↺If she had not undergone this change, she would have been 56 years old. She died in 1974.
#jeff the killer#creepypasta#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta headcanon#clockwork#creepy#ticci toby#creepypasta clockwork#creepypasta headcanons#hoodie creepypasta#masky creepypasta#ticci toby creepypasta#nina the killer#kate the chaser#jane the killer#homicidal liu#zero creepypasta#nurse ann#judge angels#eyeless jack#laughing jack#x virus#ben drowned#puppeteer#mary Vaughn#bloody painter#lulu#sally creepypasta#rouge#ninakate
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Star Patient: Chapter 5 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)
WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.
Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).
Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.
Incest is not Wincest.
Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:
Wordcount: 12,000+ words
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, current chapter, chapter 6 (in the works)
Andrew glided through the hospital corridors, taking the elevator to the pediatric branch. He really couldn’t care less about the kid, Hailey, but for some reason his favorite nurse just loved the little nuisance.
He felt a bit jealous. Does she like Hailey more than him?
Obviously, she does, considering how she had talked about the girl when they first met. He felt pretty annoyed. Did she spend more of her time and attention on the ill girl? Did she get to innocently hug her like that? If Andrew wasn’t so prideful, he’d definitely ask her for a hug.
Hell, he was really fighting with himself to ask now. Just a small quick hug, nothing bad! He wondered if he could genuinely pull that off. He wondered how she must feel inside his arms. Would she rest her head against his chest, or would she rather prefer resting it on his shoulder? Is she one of those people who cling onto you like their life depends on it, or was she someone who preferred soft and polite hugs? Would she be a long and affectionate hugger, or simple and sweet?
He put that thought in the back of his mind for now, rolling down the hallways to Hailey’s room. He didn’t bother to open the door, much like he did with (Y/N)’s room earlier, as he strolled in without a care.
Hailey laid in her bed, her eyes glued to some book (Y/N) got her, before she glanced at him. Her eyes raised, surprised to see the pale man again.
“Andrew, was it?” she questioned, her voice sounding better from yesterday. “What are you doing here?”
“(Y/N) told me to check on you.” He stated bluntly.
“(Y/N)? Is she here?” Hailey questioned, a smile growing on her face. “I haven’t seen her tonight! I thought she was off work?”
Andrew was about to open his mouth and say (Y/N) was, before remembering how the nurse didn’t want the girl to know about her condition.
“Uh, no…” he muttered, looking away. “She… wanted me to get into books to distract myself… so she told me to go to you for any books.” He lied.
“So you do have an interest in books after all.” Hailey smiled. “You must have an interest in nurse (Y/N) too, huh?” Hailey smirked teasingly.
“…What are you getting at?” Andrew questioned, resisting the urge to glare at the sick girl.
How the hell did this kid know? Andrew questioned to him.
“It’s very obvious.” She smiled. “See, if I had a past life, I’m sure I was like a cupid!”
“Uh, yeah. Sure, kid.” He spoke, brushing off the comment as he decided not to entertain nor deny the idea.
“I’m very serious.” Hailey re-enforced. “I can see it in your eyes! You’re invested in her!”
Who is this brat… Andrew thought, annoyed but intrigued (much to his dismay).
“You know, I’ve known her ever since she came here. I know her type of men.” Hailey lied, a mischievous smirk growing on her face.
“…You do?” Andrew muttered, now he was unashamedly interested.
“I could tell you…” she hummed, trailing off. “Or not.”
Andrew looked hesitant, before letting out a sigh. He rolled his chair up to her bedside, glancing down at her lap where her open book rested.
The book she got from (Y/N)…
God, everything just seems to trace back to that woman, huh? No matter what, everything he sees and hears all traces back to her, even outside of the hospital people are attracted to her (even if the reasons could be malicious). It’s almost pathetic how hooked he is on her, despite not even knowing her for a week. It’s almost scary how everyone seems to be attracted to the girl, she just had an aura that everyone was aware of and drawn to.
He could look at something stupid like his shoes and remember her footsteps as she walked with him to the surgery room. He could remember her hands on his face, chest, wrist, looking all around and checking his condition, his bandages, his vitals. He could look at his bedsheets and remember her hands tucking him in for bed… and imagine things he’d rather not envision for a woman he just met.
Yeah, back in the hatch those thoughts go.
“Could you just tell me?” he huffed, trying to sound as uninterested as possible despite asking for this, rather impatiently at that.
“Well? Do you like her?” Hailey questioned.
Andrew took the moment to think to himself. Yeah, she was a pretty nice nurse, and she knew her stuff despite specializing in pediatrics; though he shouldn’t be surprised, children are basically just the same anatomy as adults, just smaller in size.
She had a nice voice, and she somehow balanced between playful and professional, perhaps that’s practiced for pediatrics to make kids feel comfortable yet still hold authority.
She had a cute smile, and her eyes were pretty to look into. He liked looking at her while she worked, sometimes she’d even bite her lip or stick her tongue out to remind herself to concentrate. She looked like an angel laying on that white hospital bed. Even in pain, she still looked pretty.
He wondered how she was outside of the hospital. She was a human too, how did she act with her friends, or her family? How did she act alone? Was she single? Did she have a boyfriend, or did she prefer girls? Would she take interest in him? Could she see him as a potential partner?
Fuck. Yeah, he definitely liked her.
“Just a little…” he muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.
This feels weird (and degrading, in a sense) to be relying on a sick kid for love advice.
“So you admit it?” she smiled.
“Are you gonna tell me or not?” Andrew growled.
By now, Hailey was no longer fearful or anxious of Andrew. Andrew was just a lovesick puppy hopelessly enamored with her favorite nurse, in her eyes at least. She learned that expression from her books.
“No.” Hailey smiled, picking up her book.
“Why?” Andrew questioned, feeling a little betrayed that she made him admit his feelings only to not hold onto their deal.
“Because I lied.” Hailey smiled. “I don’t know her type.”
“Brat…” Andrew muttered under his breath, unashamed to be talking smack in front of a dying kid.
He could’ve said worse, but it’s quite mean to talk ill to a sick child, especially in front of them. Besides, (Y/N) wouldn’t like it if she found out.
“So, books?” Hailey hummed, getting back to her reading. “This book I’m reading right now is pretty good. I can read it to you.” She suggested.
“No…” he grumbled, still a little upset that he was tricked.
He’ll let her lying slide. Kids will be kids, let them have their fun.
“How about I read it to you instead?” Andrew suggested.
He didn’t want her reading to him; he was the adult, not her. Besides, her voice sounds hoarse and struggling, he’d rather him read it to her than have the kid push herself—not because he’s soft or anything, but because (Y/N) would be upset.
Hailey seemed to ponder the idea, before handing over the book to him.
“Just don’t crease the pages.” Hailey spoke.
“Got it.” Andrew hummed, looking at the page she was originally reading.
He started at the beginning of the page, reading a bit wonky at first, before he started to get into the narration. The words started to flow more smoothly, and he even took pauses for dramatic effect at the intense moments that felt like they needed a pause to sink in.
One chapter became two, and two became four. He was pretty interested in the story, makes sense considering it was his (Y/N) who got the story, of course she’d have immaculate taste too.
He read until his throat went dry, the tip of his tongue aching from all the pronunciations. He looked up from the book to see Hailey asleep.
Did she get bored? Andrew thought, a little offended that she fell asleep at the book (Y/N) gave her instead of giving it to him, especially when he was kind enough to read it to her.
Maybe she just liked his voice? It’s perfect for listening to. His voice wasn’t quiet, but it wasn’t loud either, like a polite demand for attention or to respect his authority. It was deep, but not too deep, with a slight rasp from smoking. He was good at projecting his voice so others could listen to him—well, everyone except Ashley, really.
Thinking of Ashley, where is she? She was sure acting weird today. Something about the demon’s vision she saw in her dream. She also described (Y/N)’s appearance despite not even knowing the nurse; he couldn’t recall any moment they had interacted.
Andrew took a white bookmark that laid on her bedside table, placing it on the page he stopped reading on. He closed the book, placing it down on Hailey’s bedside. He wheeled out of the room, making his way back to the elevators.
He entered the elevator, pressing the button for the emergency branch, waiting for the doors to re-open. The metal shutters opened and he rolled out, going back to (Y/N)’s room.
He made it, opening the door and entering without bothering to knock. (Y/N) laid in the hospital bed, her eyes closed as she appeared to be sleeping.
Damn… Andrew thought, disappointed. I was hoping to talk to her.
He doesn’t know what he would’ve talked about, but he was hoping she’d start the conversation. He wanted to get closer to her, emotionally and physically.
Andrew debated what he should do, before finally giving in, rolling his wheelchair up to her side. He observed her sleeping face, blissfully unaware of his presence as she slept. Her hair was a little messy, perhaps from sleeping or from the attack earlier. Her skin was a bit paler than usual, perhaps from shock or blood loss. She had more prominent bags under her eyes than usual, resting heavily under her closed eyes.
He wondered who attacked her, and why. Was it a crazy ex boyfriend? Some stalker? A jealous friend? Someone suffering under delusions? He wondered what happened.
He had an idea, though he was scared to ponder on it.
Instead of thinking about it, he distracted himself. He looked down at her bandaged arm, trailing his hands down to her wrists, and to her fingernails.
Her nails were strangely clean. They were polished and trimmed, which makes sense considering nurses need to have good hygiene, especially so they don’t transfer bacteria or accidentally infect patients. They looked like they had been scrubbed squeaky clean recently, not even a trace of dirt under her nails.
Her hands looked small compared to his, clean and petite compared to his rough and damaged ones.
His hands had small burns from failing to light his cigarettes as a starter; her hands had small burns from ovens and hot cookware and hot glue guns, yet somehow her scars were far more attractive than his.
His hands were dirty, stained with blood and sins; hers were clean, baptized in purity and commandant.
He wondered how her hands would feel against his. They looked soft, would they feel soft? He wondered if she used lotion, what her favorite nail polish was, how long she liked her nails.
Those thoughts led to other thoughts. What did she like wearing when she’s at home? What does she wear in public? What kind of music does she listened to? What kind of foods does she like?
He decided it was best to stop those thoughts. He stared at her hands, juggling his thoughts in his head, before finally giving in. He reached out and held her hand with his larger one.
He held it gently, feeling the weight of it. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand soothingly, memorized at the difference. Her hand was slightly cold, possibly due to how cold the hospital’s AC is followed by blood loss, but it wasn’t uncomfortable to touch.
He looked at her face to see if she woken up or felt the touch. She didn’t.
His fingers carefully interlocked with her, cautious to make sure she wouldn’t accidentally wake up. She remained neutral, not even a flutter of her eyelashes or any stirring.
She must be really tired… Andrew thought.
His admired their hands as they eloped together. He noticed discoloration on her hands, He shifted his body, laying his elbow down on the edge of the mattress and using his arm as a pillow. He admired her sleeping face, closing his eyes to relish the touch and intimacy of this moment. He doesn’t know how long it took for him to fall asleep, but it was relatively quick.
.
.
A few hours later, Andrew jolted awake first at the sound of the door opening, turning his head at the noise. (Y/N) groaned, opening her eyes and seeing Andrew by her side, holding her hand as a man stood in the doorway, one Andrew didn’t know.
Andrew squeezed (Y/N)’s hand softly, a silent greeting before glaring at the man, almost possessive of (Y/N)’s vulnerable state.
“Hello, Doctor Ryan…” (Y/N) yawned, before directing her attention to Andrew. “And hello to you too, Andrew.” She hummed, smiling as she gently squeezed his hand back.
She looked down at their hands, wondering when she and Andrew started holding hands, or even when he returned back. Her hands trailed down to her sleeves, more so lack of, as the hospital gown didn’t have any long-sleeves for her. She noticed her scars out in the open and ripped her hand away from Andrew’s, a sense of insecurity and embarrassment rapidly building in her as she hid her arms under her blanket.
Andrew looked confused (even a little disheartened that she let go) as Doctor Ryan walked over to her. Doctor Ryan isn’t usually at the hospital on Saturday nights, but he could’ve decided to work overtime this week. It’s not unusual since he has a stay-at-home wife and three kids.
“Hello! I heard what happened and I figured I’d wait to see you when you’re awake.” The doctor smiled brightly, walking over to her bedside and sitting next to Andrew. “And who is this?” he questioned, looking at Andrew, yet having a good idea of who it was as he sent a knowing smirk.
While Doctor Ryan had never met Andrew face-to-face, he had read his report when assigning (Y/N) to watch him his first night, along with hearing all the gossip from Penelope.
Andrew had a small reputation around the hospital since he’s one of the trouble patients, on suicide watch and needing special treatment for his wounds and wants. Andrew wouldn’t accept any care from any other nurse during the night shift, it was a fight for the day shift to care for him until (Y/N) told him to behave for day shift. His sister was also banned from the hospital due to proving a threat to Andrew’s recovery and health, though she won’t be a problem anymore.
Rumors spread pretty easily of Andrew’s fondness and almost admiration of the nurse he chose, (Y/N). Penelope has a big mouth without meaning to, having a bad habit of rambling and over sharing her and other people’s problems and secrets, so it spread pretty quick of the strange relationship the nurse and patient shared. Penelope’s ramblings of doubt as a nurse because Andrew wouldn’t accept her care had reached Doctor Ryan’s ears, being the catalyst of his teasing to his student, (Y/N).
“This is Andrew.” (Y/N) introduced when she realized Andrew wasn’t going to answer the doctor’s question, only give him a nasty glare.
She cleared her throat, shoving her arms into her blanket so the pair of males didn’t see, and flashed a smile. “What’s your visit for? Don’t tell me you’re gonna make me work.” She chuckled lightly, trying to make a joke.
“I wouldn’t say 'work' exactly.” Doctor Ryan smiled, before it faltered, letting out a sigh. “You’re here today, so I figured it’d be a good time to tell you. I think it’s best if you see Hailey.”
“Hailey? Why? Did something bad happen to her?” (Y/N) questioned, doing her best to not sound alarmed or panicked.
It’s never a good thing for a nurse to panic, it’d defeat a key factor of their job. Nurses are supposed to provide aid to their patients, whether it’s emotionally or physically, or even emotional in cases like Andrew’s. A nurse panicking would panic their patient since they’re going to look to the one with most experience. If a patient panics, they can worsen their condition or provide unnecessary stress that can affect their recovery or even create new problems.
And people think being a nurse is just all fluffing pillows and handing out medication. You have to be constantly in tune with the patients emotions, symptoms, and healing process; from what they're feeling to how much they're eating or using the bathroom. Always checking up on how they are and cater them to the best of your ability; serving them food (and sometimes helping feed them), changing their bedsheets, helping them to the bathroom, helping out with physical therapy, prepping them for procedures or appointments, and charting. The worse is charting. You have to document every single thing; from what they ate and what times, to who visited them today, to how what they said to be feeling and what they looked actually looked to be feeling like, to any improvement or decline or neutrality of their status, to their behavior, to what medicines they had, to their complaints or compliments they have about the hospital or their treatment, and so much more.
“She’s just not in the greatest condition at the moment. I think it’s best she sees you.” Doctor Ryan spoke.
Before she could question it, Doctor Ryan grabbed something from his coat, placing it down on her bedside table.
“Here,” he spoke, patting what looked to be a Polaroid recorder down on her table, “I came to drop this off too. This was supposed to be a wholesome visit, until Hailey at least…” he spoke, allowing his smile to drop. “Check out the contents on the camera later. I have to get back to work. Get well soon!”
“Thanks.” (Y/N) smiled, watching Doctor Ryan leave the room.
“Who was that?” Andrew questioned, glancing over at her as he resisted the urge to grimace.
“That’s Doctor Ryan, he’s my professor! He’s the one teaching me pediatrics since I’m an apprentice.” (Y/N) explained, slowly sitting up from the bed.
Andrew watched her movements carefully, observing how she slowly took her time getting out of bed. She didn’t apply much pressure on her injured leg as her sock-clothed feet hit the ground (with clean hospital socks, none of her blood soaked up in it and used to plug in any stab wounds). The room looked like a carousel, spinning rapidly, and a headache followed with it, screaming loudly in her head. She let out a groan as Andrew quickly placed a hand on her waist.
"Careful..." Andrew muttered, watching her intently as he kept his hand on her waist.
"Thank you, but I'm fine." (Y/N) lied, placing her hand on his shoulder to use as leverage.
"Yeah, sure." He hummed sarcastically.
(Y/N) resisted the urge to glare at him. While she wasn't on duty, she was still his nurse and she didn't feel like having any workplace drama.
"Do you want me to assist you there?" Andrew questioned, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on her hip.
"No, it's fine." She spoke, taking a few steps to the door and ignoring the stabbing sensation in her leg.
"Are you sure?" Andrew questioned, trying his best to not look too concerned for her.
"Yes, I'm sure." She huffed, trying not to be snippy. "It's for the best. I don't want Hailey to be nervous or worried, especially if there's something going on with her."
"Just be careful..." Andrew spoke, watching her limp away. "I'll be here waiting for you."
(Y/N) took the moment to look back at him, confused. Before she could question it, she stopped herself, deciding there was always later to talk about it. Right now Hailey needs her, Andrew can wait.
(Y/N) settled for a nod, rummaging in the hospital cabinets and grabbing a white blanket. She wrapped it around her body to hide her hospital gown; she wouldn’t want to worry Hailey. (Y/N) limped out of the room, going down the halls to the elevator.
She pressed the floor the pediatric branch was on, waiting rather impatiently for the doors to open again as she descended.
Was Hailey okay? What did he mean by she’s not in the greatest condition? Has she gained more symptoms, or weakened?
Hailey has acute lymphoblastic leukemia, also known as ALL. It’s a cancer inside the blood and bone marrow, where the infected white blood cells are rapidly multiplying, creating blocks in the blood and bones that could prevent other cells from getting through and working. The cancer comes with symptoms such as fever, frequent nose bleeds, weakness or fatigue, easy bruising, pain in the bones or stomach or groin, frequent infections, and swollen lymph nodes.
Hailey’s most prominent symptoms are her swollen lymph nodes, hence why her voice is low and raspy, along with her bone pains in her legs, which is why she’s bedridden. At least 90% of kids under 15 who have ALL survive, so long as they’re treated. Even thought Hailey has been in the hospital for three years, she’s made very little progress in recovering.
Despite there being no stages in ALL cancer, if (Y/N) had to guess, she’s assume Hailey would be in stage 3. Over the years of chemotherapy and medications, her infected white blood cells just seem to be multiplying more and more, hence why it’s called acute lymphoblastic leukemia, acute means rapid.
(Y/N)’s theory is that a doctor didn’t give a strong enough dosage to Hailey, therefore the cells grew a resistance to the medication, creating a superbug that could withstand the medicine entirely.
Even then, what matters is if Hailey is feeling alright. (Y/N) exited the elevator and limped down the hallways, making it to Hailey’s room and opening the door.
“Oh. Hello, Ms. (L/N)!” Hailey greeted brightly, her voice still hoarse and raspy, but having life to it. “What are you doing here? You said it was your day off!”
Hailey’s upper body shot up quickly as she sat up from bed, a smile on her face as she greeted (Y/N). Her eyes were bright and lively, even waving her arm at the nurse.
Oh.
“Sorry it’s so early!” (Y/N) smiled. “It’s at least 5 A.M. What are you doing up so early?”
“I couldn’t sleep, I just had such a sudden burst of energy!” Hailey spoke. “I think I’m getting better!”
(Y/N) ignored that comment, sitting down on the guest chair in Hailey’s room. Her eyes trailed to the wheelchair that sat near her IV pole, a wheelchair that’s only used for Hailey to wheel herself to the bathroom now, but even then she needs help from the nurses.
“So? How’s that book you’re reading?” (Y/N) questioned.
“I’m almost done with it. At least 30 pages away.” Hailey answered. “What are you doing here at the hospital? It’s your night off; unless you’re working overtime again?”
“Yes! I’m working overtime again.” (Y/N) lied, smiling at the girl.
It’s best not to tell her anything, not in her condition.
“Are you cold? Why are you wearing a blanket?” Hailey questioned.
“Yes, I’m cold. I’m feeling a bit chilly at the moment. It’s verging to winter and the hospital still hasn’t adjusted the thermostat yet.” (Y/N) lied once more. “Hey, remember when I said I’ll take you to the garden the next time I see you? Would you like to go right now?”
Hailey’s eyes brightened even more, her grin widening as she nodded. “Yes! I want to see the flowers!”
“Let’s get you in the wheelchair, yeah?” (Y/N) spoke, standing up from the chair and using the blanket to hide herself limping from Hailey’s sight.
Hailey used her upper arms and was able to push herself to the edge of the bed on her own, even moving her knees a bit too! (Y/N) still carefully placed one of her arms under Hailey’s knees and the other on her back, picking up Hailey and placing her in the wheelchair.
(Y/N) decided against the wheelchair restraints, not wanting Hailey to feel trapped at the moment. (Y/N) grabbed the blanket off Hailey’s bed, but Hailey spoke up.
“We can leave the blanket. I actually feel pretty warm at the moment.” Hailey spoke.
The only warmth Hailey usually had was when she had a fire spreading in her legs, the bone pains acting up and causing many sleepless nights for her. It’s why Hailey is almost always awake when (Y/N) does her rounds around the hospital at night.
“It’s cold outside. Let’s take the blanket just in case.” (Y/N) persisted, smiling as she covered Hailey’s shoulders and down with the thin white cloth.
Hailey decided not to argue against it and cooperated. (Y/N) wheeled Hailey out of the room, her pace a little slower than usually as she felt that stabbing sensation in her leg and stomach. It made her silently hitch her breath, her ears having a slight ring in them, yet she persisted.
“Gosh, I haven’t seen these halls in forever.” Hailey spoke, her eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the white hallways. “You know, I read that whenever you enter a unfamiliar area, the reason why you feel dizzy is because you have a sensory overload. Like, you’re saving mental images and color palettes and the layout of the area all in your head, that way you remember where you are the next time you go! Even though I’ve been here before, it feels like it’s my first time down these halls all over again.”
Yes, (Y/N) knows that. She was the one who gave Hailey the book she learned that from, but for Hailey’s sake (and to distract her mind from the pain), she decided to play dumb.
“Wow, really?” (Y/N) hummed, smiling. “I never knew that. It makes sense now that you’ve explained it.”
Hailey nodded, smiling. “Yeah! I remember having that dizziness when I was at my friend’s for a sleepover.” She spoke, before her smile dropped. “Though, it was before I had cancer, or at least when I wasn’t placed in the hospital… I sometimes miss having friends.”
“Why, of course you have friends.” (Y/N) spoke. “You have me! And you have Doctor Ryan, and Penelope, and Ruby, and even Andrew too.”
“Yeah, but I mean friends my age.” Hailey spoke.
Normally, that could be arranged in the hospital so long as the patients aren’t being exposed to a infectious disease or illness, especially in Hailey’s case since she’s more prone to getting infections; however, Hailey didn’t want to be friends with the other kids after her hair started falling out due to the chemotherapy. She was insecure of her appearance deteriorating, even if Penelope kept lying to her face and telling her she looked perfectly fine. Hailey preferred (Y/N) over Penelope for that reason. (Y/N) always told her the truth, or at least left it blank so there was no harsh comment.
If Penelope asked (Y/N) if she looked sickly today, (Y/N) would tell her that a bit of water and food would help bring back some color to her face. It was a good way to not only promote healthy behavior for Hailey, but also it helped build trust in (Y/N) to always telling her the truth about her health. If she asked Penelope, Penelope would’ve lied and said she looked as bright as the sun; which is kind, but she could tell Penelope was lying by how Penelope’s right eye would twitch and bite her bottom lip.
“I see… well, I’m sure we can arrange that soon, when you’re ready.” (Y/N) smiled, taking Hailey into the elevator.
(Y/N) pressed the lobby floor as Hailey spoke up.
“Are the flowers even in bloom? Since it’s verging to winter?” Hailey questioned.
“A secret between me and you; the flowers are fake.” (Y/N) whispered, acting as if there was a camera watching her or something. We have scented pads hidden in the soil to make it smell like flowers, and we wet the soil regularly to keep that earthy smell lingering.”
“Really?” Hailey gasped.
“That’s why they’re always in bloom. It’s depressing to have an empty garden, even something as small as colorful flowers give people hope.” (Y/N) explained.
While fake flowers aren’t present in most hospitals, this hospital was different. Even if they were always understaffed and overworked, they at least cared for their patients. Even if the staff excel at their work or not, at least they have work ethic.
The elevator doors opened as (Y/N) wheeled Hailey down the hallways. (Y/N) noticed the stares from guests and even some patients; whether it was because of Hailey’s bald head or (Y/N)’s limp. (Y/N) noticed Hailey’s gripping the blanket on her, seconds away from raising the blanket above her head to hide it. (Y/N) recognized Hailey’s insecurity and spoke up.
“You know, I’m thinking of starting a garden. A real garden with real flowers indoors, that way patients with allergies or conditions can see the flowers too without going outside.” (Y/N) spoke, redirecting Hailey’s attention. “I was wondering what flowers you’d like for me to add. I’ll do a survey with the other patients too, have a nice diversity of flowers. What do you think?”
“I think… it’s a nice idea.” Hailey smiled, letting go of the blanket. “I think daisies. You should do daisies.”
“That’s a nice flower. I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling as she pushed open the glass door, rolling Hailey to the garden.
(Y/N) guided Hailey to the wooden bench, picking up Hailey and placing her down on the seat so she wouldn’t be confided to the wheelchair.
Hailey rambled on and on about anything and everything. She talked so much that (Y/N) contemplated if she should go fetch water for Hailey’s throat given how raspy it was, but she decided against it as she noticed the signs.
Hailey’s bright smile, the almost whimsical joy in her eyes; an expression that (Y/N) thought Hailey has lost over the years as she spent her birthdays in this hospital.
(Y/N) remembers bringing a cake for Hailey’s 7th birthday, the first they spent together. Even though Hailey admitted to not liking vanilla cake, she still ate it. It was the last birthday she’d spend with her parents before they threw themselves at work, leaving Hailey along in the hospital with other sick patients and the staff.
The second birthday they spent together, (Y/N) had to ditch the candles, concerned the smoke would affect Hailey’s lungs. At least the cake was homemade, even if the frosting looked a bit ugly. (Y/N) made sure it was chocolate this time, so Hailey could enjoy it.
And the third birthday they spent together, (Y/N) made an ice cream cake, chocolate of course. She figured the ice cream would soothe Hailey’s throat and Hailey could still enjoy the flavor. It took many tries, but she succeeded in making the perfect cake, gifting Hailey books for her to read too.
If (Y/N) had known it would be Hailey’s last birthday, she would’ve made sure to go all out. Buy balloons and party streamers, force her parents to come back and see her, cover her head to toe in presents.
Unfortunately, you can’t change time.
Hailey’s eyes shined as she spoke, talking about anything possible. She didn’t have many who would listen to her, her doctors and nurses were there for work, and (Y/N) couldn’t visit long since she had other patients to tend to. But now, (Y/N)’s off the clock. At the moment she’s not Hailey’s nurse, she’s Hailey’s friend.
Eventually, Hailey’s voice faltered, before she let out a hum, satisfied as she rested her head on the bench. She took a deep breath, then sighed, smiling softly.
“It really does smell like flowers. Those are some good quality scent pads.” Hailey spoke.
Fake flowers last for years; patients do not.
“Do you ever wonder what’s beyond us?” Hailey questioned after a long silence.
“What do you mean?” (Y/N) questioned, turning her head to face the girl.
“Death. Like, do you ever wonder what happens after?” Hailey added.
(Y/N) hummed, thinking as she kept her blanket wrapped around her, hiding her hospital gown just as Hailey hid from the cold.
She wasn’t sure. Many religions had their own ideals of life and death, but she doubted Hailey wanted an answer based on religion. She wasn’t sure what was beyond. After trying to kill herself, everything in her life started losing value, a spiral of nothing and everything thrown at her all at once.
Even if she stopped hurting herself physically, she couldn’t stop mentally.
“I think it changes for everyone.” (Y/N) spoke. “Like, your own paradise. You could be surrounded by anyone you want, and anything you want.”
“What would you want to be surrounded by?” Hailey questioned.
She didn’t have to think much on that matter. There wasn’t much in her life she cared about anymore. She did nothing but work nowadays. She was an empty husk that worked itself to death to pass the time, awaiting Death by the door.
If she couldn’t open the door, she’ll make Death open it.
“Beds.” (Y/N) answered.
“Really? That’s it?” Hailey questioned, surprised and perhaps kindly disappointed. “I was expecting something… more. Like, deep, or wise.”
“You can’t expect everything to make sense in life, you know.” (Y/N) chuckled. “Sometimes things just happen. I think that’s what’s so fun about life, it’s just a mystery to be solved at the end of the line through all that hard work; or, perhaps there’s no mystery. Maybe it just coexists just like we do.”
“How can your answer be so boring but your follow-up be so wise?” Hailey pouted, cause (Y/N) to chuckle.
“Hey, I never said I’d give you any special answer.” (Y/N) pointed out.
“But, really, why beds?” Hailey questioned.
“I just like sleeping.” (Y/N) smiled, giving part of the truth.
“I guess it’ll suffice.” Hailey sighed, disappointed.
“And you? What would you like to be surrounded by?” (Y/N) questioned.
“My parents.” Hailey spoke. “And my old friends. And tons of my hair, like as much hair as Rapunzel.”
“That sounds nice.” (Y/N) hummed. “Though, you’d have to brush your hair all the time. Maybe it’s not so good having hair, I can’t stand mine at times.” (Y/N) spoke, trying to gently reassure Hailey.
“Well, maybe just normal hair then. What it used to look like before.” Hailey spoke. “You’d be there too. I wouldn’t only see you when you’re working. I’d see you outside of the hospital as my friend.”
“What’s it matter where or how you meet? As long as we’re still friends, I don’t see any issue.” (Y/N) smiled.
Hailey smiled, nodding. “I like that.”
Eventually, Hailey went quiet, no longer having any words to speak. She sat on the bench, observing her surroundings in a youthful fashion. Her eyes sparkled with life, her pulse relaxing as she enjoyed the false nature around her.
“Thank you for staying with me.” Hailey spoke up, her volume decreasing, the sound of her raspy voice cracking more. “I know it’s probably hard for you to see me like this.”
“Anything for you, Hails.” (Y/N) smiled, wrapping her arm around Hailey’s shoulder and giving her a gentle side-hug.
“Thank you for not leaving me alone. It means a lot to me…” Hailey muttered, taking a few deep breaths, before eventually subduing.
(Y/N) glanced at the IV pole, looking at the fluids that gently flowed in Hailey’s veins, before she turned her attention back to Hailey.
After a few minutes, there was no movement from Hailey. No breathing. No eye movement. No leg twitching. Just nothing.
(Y/N) took a deep breath, smelling the fake flowers and wet soil, before letting out a sob she’s been holding.
Hailey had so much life, and yet she died so young. She was so lively in her final moments.
All that matters now is she’s not going to be in anymore pain and that she wasn’t scared. (Y/N) thought.
Even if kids under 15 have a 90% chance of surviving acute lymphoblastic leukemia, it doesn’t mean it’s guaranteed. Life and death is really never a guarantee though, so it’s good to enjoy it while it lasts.
If only (Y/N) could follow her own advice.
(Y/N) covered her face in her hands, crying now that Hailey was gone, so she wouldn’t see her tears. This hurt way worse than any stab she could endure.
(Y/N) almost contemplated covering Hailey’s face with the her blanket, but she decided against it. She didn’t want to be ashamed of Hailey or her presence, she didn’t want to forget Hailey or brush her aside.
(Y/N) stood up, deciding not to waste much time, and picked Hailey up, putting her in the wheelchair. She had such lifeless and glazed eyes, her mouth was slightly open and her arms flayed motionless as (Y/N) moved. She doesn’t look like the suddenly bright and cheerful Hailey from just a few minutes ago.
Terminal Lucidity. It’s an unknown phenomenon that can happen before death, giving you suddenly more strength, a clearer consciousness, and even regaining memory. It’s surprisingly common, at least 88% experiencing the symptoms before death. It can happen from minutes to hours to days before death, and it has a habit of giving false hope to the patients loved ones. While it’s quite common in dementia patients, it can also happen to those with neurological problems or in some special cases those with cancer.
In the hospital, a terminal patient suddenly acting lively and alert is usually a bad thing because it means they’re near death. It’s not quite known why, but some speculate it could be the brain’s last fight, before eventually giving in.
(Y/N) wheeled Hailey’s dead body to the hospital’s mortuary. She checked the body in, guessing the nearest time of death since she didn’t have a watch on her, and the cause of death. She wrote down the parental numbers so they could be contacted, before lumping her way back to the elevator.
The ride up was deathly silent, not that anyone was in the elevator to talk to her, but it was silent in her mind too. Usually she’d at least be thinking of things to do, but she had no thoughts in her mind.
The elevator doors opened and (Y/N) walked out. She walked back to her own hospital room, exhausted and tired. Tears threatened to escape her eyes once more, the pain of losing Hailey and the pain of her wounds piling up on her.
She opened the door, surprised to see Andrew there, sleeping in his wheelchair with his arms crossed. (Y/N) wasn’t sure whether to feel annoyed or happy. Annoyed because she wanted to cry and sleep, but also happy because it meant she wasn’t alone with her thoughts and feelings.
The door opened, jolting Andrew awake. He was probably in a light sleep, whether because he was expecting (Y/N) or because the wheelchair is uncomfortable to sleep in. Whatever the reason was, he was awake.
His eyes trailed to (Y/N), doing his best not to smile and brighten up at her presence (that would be so lame if he did that).
“Hey.” Andrew spoke.
“Hey.” (Y/N) parroted, throwing her blanket at Andrew for him to use instead as she got up in her hospital bed.
There was no point in hiding her hospital gown now that Hailey was dead, so that blanket could now be used by Andrew while she got under her own hospital bedsheets.
“You can go to your room, you know. I’m fine on my own.” (Y/N) spoke.
“So? You got stabbed.” Andrew gruffed, catching the blanket and placing it down on his lap.
“And you have two broken legs, mister. You should still be recovering after surgery.” (Y/N) scolded lightly.
Her response caused Andrew to chuckle. Even injured and off the clock, she still worried about others. Andrew wasn’t sure if it was because she was his nurse or if she was just trying to be a decent human, but he relished the attention anyways.
“Ah, c’mon. I feel fine.” He chuckled.
(Y/N) resisted the urge to kick his leg to prove him wrong, yet she decided not to be petty today. She hummed, lying down on her bed.
“Is there something you want from me? Why are you here?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at the clock.
It was 6:30 A.M. She’ll be here in the hospital until 3 P.M. She wasn’t fond of that. She needed to bury Ashley’s body and deep clean her apartment. Even though the police hopefully had no trace it was her, and hopefully they didn’t invade in her apartment and swab the place (which, they better of not considering it’d be illegal without her permission or a warrant).
Not really. Andrew thought.
He just came over as soon as he heard (Y/N) was put in the emergency unit thanks to Penelope’s big mouth. He doesn’t really know why he came here, maybe just out of curiosity to see how bad she was hurt. All humans are curious when something bad happens.
Maybe he just wanted to spend more time with her, to be happy she was here with him. It’s not like she could fight much with him, she was tired and her eyes were red.
Red eyes. Was she crying?
“I just figured I see you, since you’re here. It gives me something to do other than being stuck in that hospital bed.” Andrew spoke.
“And now you’re stuck in a hospital wheelchair.” (Y/N) chuckled.
“Forget about me. Are you okay?” Andrew questioned.
“Yeah. I told you. It doesn’t hurt much.” (Y/N) lied, ignoring the pulses inside her wounds.
“I wasn’t talking about that. I mean, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.” Andrew pointed out, leaning back in his chair as he looked at her.
(Y/N) paused, thinking. Would it be against hospital protocol to say a patient’s status or info to someone if they’re dead?
Well, you only live once. And Andrew doesn’t look like a snitch.
“Hailey died.” (Y/N) spoke. “And, her parents weren’t there to say goodbye. Really, never visited her much either.”
“That sucks…” Andrew muttered.
He’s not too sure if he could care or not. Yeah, it sucks a kid died, but why should he care about a kid he had no connection with? She died, might as well get over it.
“It happens more than I like around here. They pass without their family around.” (Y/N) spoke. “But, I just can’t stand when the parents aren’t there for their kids. They die scared, that’s no way to die, for a kid or adult.”
(Y/N) spoke, looking out her window as the sun started rising.
She wondered where Andrew’s parents were. Why aren’t they here to visit him? Do they not know he’s here? Or perhaps they don’t want to visit their child who’s a murderer…
“What shitty parents.” Andrew spoke with no filter.
“Yeah,” (Y/N) chuckled, “that’s what I think too.”
To really care about someone you don’t have any blood-relation to, must be a special kind of bond; it’s one you can choose, not one you’re born with, unlike the one Andrew and Ashley shares.
“So, where’s your parents?” Andrew questioned.
“I’m an adult, I don’t need them checking up on me.” (Y/N) spoke.
“Yeah, but, wouldn’t it be nice? A sense of security and all?” Andrew questioned.
“Well, where’s your parents?” (Y/N) retorted, a bit annoyed.
So what? It’s not like if she called them they’d come rushing to her. Her mother would care less seeing (Y/N) in a hospital again, and her father would probably go berserk and try to bring her back home where it was safe.
“Touché.” Andrew chuckled. “But I have my sister to visit me.”
(Y/N) mentally grimaced at that, doing her best to not make a face so Andrew wouldn’t question it.
Not anymore… she thought.
Her hands suddenly felt dirty again. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she hid them in the hospital blanket. Once again, Andrew was intrigued with her hands after seeing her hide them. It’s like everything she hides them, he immediately gets curious and wants to see them.
He knows of the obvious self-harm scars now, he saw those when she was sleeping. And he saw the small scars and burns from everyday life, but why care so much about them?
Maybe it’s just something you have to go through in order to understand. You can’t understand everything on the first try, especially if you have no experience in it.
Sure, he was admitted for jumping a rooftop, but that’s a bit different than self-harming. Jumping a rooftop is one clear goal; suicide. It has subcategories such as wanting to escape life, or having too many problems to run away from.
Self-harming, on the other hand, is more complex. The desire to harm yourself is there, but you don’t want to die immediately. It’s a slow steady process building up. You hurt yourself possibly because you feel ashamed, that you feel like you deserve to hurt because that’s all you’re worth. Or perhaps it’s to relieve stress or pain. There’s not always such a strong intent to die when you hurt yourself? sometimes pain is the only thing people know that they use to feel normal or detached. Perhaps they even get pressured into hurting themselves. Self-harming isn’t to die, it’s to make yourself suffer because you feel that that’s what you need.
The question is: what is her reasoning?
The question left him wondering, he was almost compelled to answer, but she didn’t look to be in a good mood, so he decided against it.
(Y/N)’s eyes trailed to the digital recorder on her bedside. Doctor Ryan had left it on her bedside earlier, but he didn’t explain what was on it. She reached over and grabbed it, studying it.
It was a shiny silver recorder, with a slot for polaroid photos to slip out of. (Y/N) turned on the camera, pressing a button to the camera roll. The camera roll opened, multiple short videos at least 10 or 20 seconds showing.
She clicked on one and turned it on, seeing a video of one of her patients. They had black hair and black eyes, sitting in their hospital bed with an IV needle in her arm and bandages around her head. She recently had surgery for a tumor in her brain, now resting in bed.
“Hi, Ms. (L/N)! I heard you were doing unwell and I wanted to say please get better and visit me when you’re healthy!” the patient smiled.
(Y/N) chuckled, a smile plastered on her face as she looked at the footage. Andrew wheeled his way over to her side, curious to what she was smiling at. He rested his arm on the bedside, leaning over and looking at the footage.
(Y/N) moved the camera in the center of them so they both could see. She clicked the next video, pressing play.
A boy with brown hair looked at the camera, confused. “What do I say?”
“Say get better.” Doctor Ryan whispered from behind the camera.
“Get better.” The boy spoke.
“Now add more to it, say nice things.” Doctor Ryan whispered, resisting the urge to chuckle.
“Nice things.” The kid spoke.
“No. What do you like about Nurse (L/N).” Doctor Ryan spoke, now using his normal volume instead of whispering.
“I like that she’s nice.” The kid smiled.
“Now say it to the camera.” Doctor Ryan pushed.
“I like that you’re nice, camera.” The boy smiled, one of his front teeth were missing, only adding to the cuteness.
“Ah, close enough.” Doctor Ryan chuckled, ending the video.
(Y/N) giggled at the video while Andrew remained unfazed. She clicked the next video, pressing play. There was a girl inside Doctor Ryan’s office, there for an appointment. She was a frequent regular for common colds, so (Y/N) recognized her instantly.
“Hi, Ms. (L/N)! Please get better soon, Doctor Ryan’s handwriting is too messy! I like yours better!” she smiled.
“Hey! It’s not messy, you just can’t read the prescriptions because it’s long words!” Doctor Ryan laughed.
“Still bad.” The kid smiled.
“Oh whatever.” Doctor Ryan chuckled from behind the camera, ending the video.
The kid was right, Doctor Ryan’s handwriting was bad. The kid would try to read the prescriptions on the paper but couldn’t read the big messy words, so (Y/N) would just simply write “cold medicine” so the girl could read it.
(Y/N) smiled, going through more and more videos as she chuckled and grinned at the kids, their thoughts and feelings, and seeing their current statuses.
She eventually got to the last video, the caption above saying it was recorded just eight hours ago, when (Y/N) was still sleeping in the hospital after surgery.
“Hi, Ms. (L/N)!” the patient with blonde hair smiled, revealing to be Hailey, lively and well.
“I heard you’re unwell and I hope you get better really soon! I can’t wait to see you again and to read the books you lend me. Please get well soon, I miss you already!” Hailey smiled.
“Wow, she looked to be getting better.” Andrew commented, pointing at the screen. “I wonder what happened…”
Even though Hailey was lively and well, anybody with medical knowledge would know that she was doing bad.
“Terminal lucidity.” (Y/N) answered. “Sometimes before you die, your brain acts out on a last defense. You gain more energy and strength; but it’s fruitless.” She explained.
“Oh… that blows…” Andrew muttered.
No wonder she seemed much more vocal and confident today than she did yesterday. He wondered if he died, would he act like that too before kicking the bucket? That must hurt for the loved ones who don’t understand.
“It does…” (Y/N) sighed, her mind going blank as she stared out in the distance.
When things become too much, it’s better not to think and just go on auto-pilot. It’s how (Y/N) went through her life when things became too much.
It’s unhealthy, she knows that, but it helps her cope with reality.
She turned off the camera screen, burning a hole into her lap as she looked at the black screen. She spaced out, going motionless.
Andrew noticed, unsure whether to speak up or not. She was obviously feeling distraught and he wasn’t sure if she should be wallowing in her feelings or not.
Auto-pilot took over and decided it wanted her to cry. Tears started pouring down her face before she knew it, only causing Andrew to shift uncomfortably in his chair. He sighed, grabbing her hand and holding it.
“Hey… it’s okay.” Andrew spoke awkwardly.
“No, it’s not.” She spoke, her voice cracking. “All these kids, they shouldn’t have to go through this so young. They shouldn't be in pain or dying.”
It’s admirable, her care for others. It must take a good heart to do that, always worrying about others instead of herself. Andrew wondered if he was like that before all this happened. Was he a good person before he jumped and lost most of his memory?
No, probably not. This is reality, not a dream. He doubts that he was a good person, judging by the way he acted with Ashley the past three months he could remember. His parents ignored his calls, his girlfriend broke up with him on the phone, and he killed multiple people and even ate his neighbor!
Yeah, definitely not a good person.
“There, there…” Andrew muttered awkwardly, squeezing her hand hesitantly. “Sometimes things just happen?”
“But they shouldn’t happen to kids. They’ve been brought in this world just to get taken out when life has barely even started for them. These poor kids.” She cried, squeezing Andrew’s hand tightly for comfort. “They shouldn’t be wanted to die so early on. They should be enjoying life, not wondering when it’ll end.”
Normally, she’d just hide her feelings or bottle it up until she got home, but she can’t even go home and cry because she has a body to bury and a apartment to clean.
Life just keeps piling up on her more and more. It feels like a never ending cycle of pain. The only time she even feels happy now in reality, without sleeping, is seeing kids happy and smiling. How can she be happy if they keep dying? How can she be happy if these kids keep getting their happiness robbed?
Andrew contemplated what he should do. Should he let her vent? Should he try and comfort her more? Should he offer her to shut up and shove advice down her throat?
He decided it was probably best to just comfort her, he’d rather not see her cry. She can be emotional outside of his vision. As much as he likes this nurse, he hates sensitive people; maybe he just doesn’t like seeing someone he favors crying.
Andrew sighed, reaching over and placing both his hands on her face, wiping the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs.
“Hey, don’t cry.” He spoke. “It doesn’t look good on you, you know?”
(Y/N) sniffled as she tried to speak. The muscles in her throat felt restricting, preventing her from putting them to use, so she only just shook her head.
“That video showed Hailey saying that she wanted you to get better, right?” Andrew pointed out, wiping the tears into her skin.
(Y/N) nodded, unsure of where he was trying to go with this.
“So, she knew you weren’t feeling good, even when she wasn't doing good herself She cares about your health. Do you think crying would make her happy?” Andrew questioned. “I think it would just worry her about you. You wouldn’t want her to worry about you, would you?”
(Y/N) shook her head, her shoulders shaking from her sobs.
"You were there for her when no one else was? Isn't that all that matters in a kid's final moments?" Andrew questioned.
Andrew's right, at least they didn't die alone. Dying alone must be one of the worst ways to die, alone to succumb to your own thoughts and regrets of what could've happen and what did. It must be worse slowly deteriorating over time, at least dying quick you wouldn't be alone with your thoughts, but dying alone just leaves your thoughts, which slowly fade over time the more and more you stop living and just start existing, before even you lose that too.
Yeah, being alone sucks, (Y/N) can vouch for that. Coming home to an empty house with nobody to greet you, eating meals alone, waking up alone and going to sleep alone, shopping alone. It's kind of like dying alone in one way. You're just waiting for that time to come when eventually you stop doing those other things, so you just go on autopilot and wait. Of course, she could easily change all that by dating someone or getting a pet for at home, but it's just so exhausting trying to find a good person to spend the rest of your life with.
There's a reason so many people are single in the dating pool. Besides, she doubts anyone would want to date her with her work schedule; she sleeps in the day and either works at night or stays up at night on her days off. Let's not forget how she's constantly tired and depressed, dating someone like her would be such a buzzkill, you'd have to be desperate; at least that's what her mother said to her last time they met up for dinner.
(Y/N)’s tears stopped, realizing Andrew was right. Hailey wouldn’t want her crying, and if (Y/N) died, she wouldn’t want to be sad either.
(Y/N)’s sadness was soon replaced with embarrassment once she realized she was crying. Crying in front of a man and have the audacity to rely on him for her own emotions. It only makes it worse that he was her patient. This must be wrong in some way to be touching her patient like this, considering Andrew isn’t in any need of reassurance she should be providing as his nurse.
She pushed him away rather quickly, wiping her own tears out of her eyes instead of him doing it for her. Andrew looked confused, mentally wondering if he did something wrong.
Why the sudden change?
(Y/N) adverted her eyes from his face, feeling childish and insecure for crying in front of someone. Even if he was pretty handsome to her, she’d rather not see the pity, or any other sort of expression on his face.
Andrew felt a bit annoyed at the sudden change. He was just holding her and comforting her. She was even leaning against him and crying into his chest! Why did she suddenly push him away? Why did she suddenly not want him anymore?
His eye unconsciously twitched, showing his mild annoyance as a tinge of insecurity washed over him. Before he could question the sudden change of heart, the door opened, Penelope walking into the room.
Penelope’s face brightened once she saw (Y/N), before it dropped noticing Andrew. Penelope suddenly became skittish, playing with her fingers as she avoided Andrew’s gaze (glare).
“Um… Mr. Graves, you’re not supposed to be here at night. It’s protocol for patients to be in their rooms in the night.” Penelope muttered, her green eyes staring down at the white tiles. “Should I escort you back to your room?”
“No.” He spoke quickly, wanting nothing to do with Penelope.
Andrew looked back at (Y/N), his gaze softening just a bit as he looked a bit concerned for her. He didn’t want to leave her. What if she needed help with something? What if she cried some more? What if she needed him?
Andrew mentally groaned, conflicted with his emotions. He unlocked his wheelchair and wheeled to the door, Penelope stepping to the side so he could pass by her.
“You can come back during visiting hours.” Penelope added quietly, resulting in a harsh glare from Andrew.
If only looks could kill.
Penelope watched as Andrew left the room, before she closed the door behind her for privacy.
“Gosh, he’s just so intimidating…” Penelope groaned, taking a seat in the room’s guest chair.
“He’s not so bad…” (Y/N) hummed, smiling.
(Y/N)’s not too sure why Penelope’s afraid of Andrew. Sure, he’s a man, but he’s not really intimidating. Perhaps she’s grown desensitized to him and his menacing aura.
Or you know, perhaps she just likes red flags. A killer cannibal certainly is a red flag, but that’s just a theory.
Besides, what’s he gonna do with two broken legs? Punch her? Penelope just has to climb up on the hospital bed or take the stairs.
Penelope took in (Y/N)’s appearance, a frown making way on her face.
"Oh, you poor thing!" she spoke, the words sounding degrading enough, especially after (Y/N) was just crying a few minutes ago. "Who could do such a thing to you?"
"Who knows..." (Y/N) muttered, ignoring the sudden shock of anger shooting through her.
She looked at Andrew. Why did Penelope look at Andrew? Yeah, she was searching for him to bring him back to his room, but did she have to advert her eyes and mutter like a damn school girl?
The sudden jealousy pissed (Y/N) off, why was she acting like this? Why did she care? What does Penelope even want?
"Did you need something?" (Y/N) questioned, not doing too well to hide her annoyance.
Luckily, Penelope was a bit oblivious, yet still seemed a bit on edge.
"Oh, sorry... Well, before I speak, how do you feel? Do you need anything? Food or water? Painkillers?" Penelope questioned.
"I'm doing fine..." (Y/N) spoke, gritting her teeth as she smiled.
"Good. Well, did you hear the news about that patient? Andrew Graves?" Penelope questioned.
"What about him?" (Y/N) questioned, glancing at Penelope suspiciously as another volt of jealousy shot through her.
"Well, I did some digging online, and I found out he's wanted!" Penelope spoke, her voice a bit too loud for her liking.
"So?" (Y/N) questioned, already knowing this information, before she quickly switched up her attitude, realizing that wasn't an appropriate social response. "Wait, what? Wanted? Like, by the police?"
"Yes!" Penelope nodded, leaning closer to (Y/N) in her chair as she spoke. "Wanted for murder! They said he killed four people at their old apartment. Him and his sister, Ashley. They even said one of the bodies had meat cut off it and it was cut up in pieces! They found DNA and blood in their kitchen, on the counter and pots and silverware!"
Well, the police only has to worry about one sibling now... (Y/N) thought to herself.
(Y/N) stayed silent, unsure of what a functioning human would respond to this. Honestly, she's grown quite comfortable with the fact Andrew is a killer and a cannibal.
"I mean, that's just... vile! And disgusting! How could someone do that?" Penelope questioned, her face turning as green as her eyes.
"Why did they do it?" (Y/N) questioned.
"H-huh?" Penelope questioned, surprised. "What do you mean? They kill four people and ate one! They must be insane or something."
"Let's not jump to conclusions. We don't know why they did it." (Y/N) spoke. "Penelope, we should know better than anyone else that people act out for reasons. We're nurses, we deal with mental breakdowns and patients lashing out all the time, and we know they have motives behind it."
"Yeah, but that's a medical setting, when something's generally wrong with them! Andrew seems stable enough!" Penelope spoke. "He must've knew what he was doing!"
"Peer pressure?" (Y/N) suggested. "Perhaps his act is a facade? We don't know a person's thoughts or feelings. For all we knew, they could've been in a dire situation. I mean, who just randomly kills four people in one day and run? Something must've happened."
Penelope looked frustrated, her bottom lip pouting as she clenched her fists. "And? So? Why should we care?! He killed four people, you know! We need to call the police!"
"No! You can't!" (Y/N) quickly shot up from the bed, flinching as she felt a stabbing pain in her stomach where her wound was.
"What? Why not?" Penelope questioned, surprised at the sudden outburst as she leaned back in her chair. "Why are you defending him? We're nurses! We need to help protect people. He could hurt someone else here!"
"No! You can't take him!" (Y/N) shouted, throwing the bedsheets off her and rushing to Penelope, ignoring the pain shooting throughout her body as she placed both of her hands on the arm chairs, caging Penelope in. "You can't do that! I won't let you."
"W-what? W-why are you acting like this?" Penelope squeaked, her hands pressing together as she curled herself up in a ball, sinking herself down in her chair as she stared up at (Y/N), frightened.
(Y/N) paused, realizing the sudden position she put herself in. Damn it! Why did she just lash out like that? She's never like this! Why can't she just let Andrew go? She needed to think of something quick to diffuse this situation and convince Penelope not to report Andrew.
"Don't you understand? The police are just going to keep him here until he heals up to where he can go to jail. If you report him now and he's aware of that, he might snap and actually hurt people." (Y/N) spoke, trying to come up with a false reason. "You'll just enrage him and give him a motive to hurt others. He hasn't injured anyone severely these past days, only a few books and hits thrown because he was afraid of us recognizing him and calling the police."
Penelope looked uncertain, contemplating whether she should listen to the younger and injured nurse in front of her.
"B-but—" Penelope started, but was cut off by (Y/N).
"Penelope, please. Don't be an idiot. Don't do something so unfathomably stupid!" (Y/N) pleaded.
Just make the idea look stupid. Just act like Penelope's the one being insensible.
"He could really hurt someone if the police come and tell him he's arrested. They're just going to explain that he's under arrest, and will be escorted to prison once the doctors deem him healthy enough to go. He'll just be here, drugged up from his surgeries, and that could cause him to not think sensibly, it'll make him more of a hazard to others. We can't afford that, Penelope." (Y/N) explained.
Penelope adverted her eyes, (Y/N)'s words seeming to sink into her as she started to appear ashamed of what she was previously proposing.
"So... what now?" Penelope questioned. "He's not going to be able to stay here long anyways. We have no emergency contacts to contact for him. He has no records inside our hospital. He can't even fill out any of our forms or such because of his amnesia, either that or he's pretending to not to know the information." Penelope explained. "He doesn't have health insurance or can't remember it, and I doubt he can afford the hospital bills if he can't even remember anything! He probably doesn't even know his banking information if he has it!"
“If we tell him that, it’ll be bothersome…” (Y/N) explained. “I mean… he could get mad and hurt someone.”
“Exactly!” Penelope exclaimed. “I-I don’t know what to do! Should we bring this up to HR or the head nurse?”
“No.” (Y/N) spoke quickly. “I-I mean, c’mon? It’s hard to trust these so-called professionals. The hospital is notorious for its accidents and fatalities. I mean, we're all working here because we were rejected by other hospitals because of our questionable backgrounds and court filings! For gods sake, there’s an advisement a town from here that has a doctor suggesting anesthesia for depression and it has our hospital name on it! We can't trust the board for anything!"
“But… what can we do?” Penelope questioned, feeling hopeless.
“We’re the smartest nurses in this whole shithole,” (Y/N) spoke.
Maybe it was an exaggeration, but she needed Penelope to believe her, or at least stop her from reporting Andrew so that he could escape.
Why does she care so much about a wrongdoer? He should be in prison, he should pay for what he’s done, but for some reason there’s a stabbing sensation in her chest at just the thought of not seeing him again. The feeling was almost as painful as the bleeding wound she currently had.
She needed new bandages, she’s been putting too much stress her body. She would ask Penelope, but she’d rather not stick around with Penelope any longer. Sure, having Penelope around would make it so she’s less likely to snitch, but there’s also the possibility that she could potentially catch (Y/N)’s unnatural behavior and go back on her words.
"I-I just... what if we're making the wrong choice? I can't stand the thought that someone can get hurt." Penelope spoke.
(Y/N) almost felt sorry for the young nurse. The nurse was only three years older than her, yet she seems utterly more helpless in life than (Y/N). Penelope has a bad luck streak with everything. She's terrible at math and doing her taxes. She's terrible at thinking for herself. She's grown up from foster home to foster home. Every relationship she's been in has been disastrous.
(Y/N) would care if Penelope didn’t have such an unhealthy obsession about finding love. The whole reason she became a nurse was to try and nurse someone to health so they’d love her; it’s almost sad, really.
“I just can’t believe it…” Penelope groaned, burying her face into her hands. “Why are the cute guys always so unstable?”
Nevermind. (Y/N) doesn’t feel sad for her at all. Absolutely no pity. Void of emotion. She was almost considering the idea of murdering Penelope. Seriously, you're caring about how cute a guy is despite him being a major threat to your life? Should you really be focusing on a cannibal's looks.
(Y/N) decided to bite her tongue. There was no reason to start a fight (that, and maybe she's just a bit guilty of this as well...) It still didn't stop the bubbling pot boiled inside her stomach and chest as she glared at Penelope though.
“Penelope, can you go find my nurse? I need a new change of bandages.” (Y/N) grumbled, desperate for Penelope to leave her as she sat back down on her bed, wincing as she overstrained herself once more.
Maybe cornering and intimidating a person while injured isn’t the best course of action.
“O-oh, right! Sure!” Penelope spoke, popping up from her makeshift ball as she stood up from her chair. “Whats your nurse’s name? I’ll go find them.”
“I don’t know their name. I didn’t met them, only my doctor.” (Y/N) explained.
“Oh, okay then. Well, I’ll ask around and see if I can find them.” Penelope spoke, walking to the door. “Door open or closed?”
“Close it.” (Y/N) answered.
Penelope nodding, closing the door and leaving (Y/N) to her own devices. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief that Penelope was gone; however, there were other things to worry about.
She needed to figure out a way to solve the Andrew situation. She could talk to Andrew herself and see if he has any insurance. She might be able to judge if he’s lying or not about knowing anything, if Andrew’s a good liar or not, that is.
She almost felt compelled to leave her room and go to Andrew’s. She could tell him what happens; no health insurance means paying the full entirety of the bills, which could be five digits to possibly even six after all his car, special requests/needs, surgeries, and days he’s spent admitted.
It’s fine… she just needs to sleep. She can deal with it another day. If she sleeps now, time will pass quicker and she can get discharged.
She closed her eyes, seeing nothing but darkness as she used her drawback to escapism once more, distancing herself from reality as she did her best not to think about her patient.
And chapter 5 is done! I do apologize for it being so long, I wasn't planning on it being so long but I guess I did get a bit carried away... Chapter 6 will have quite a bit of drama and new characters being introduced! Now I just have to get chapter 6 done... which I'm unsure of when will be done, but it's in the works already! Thank you for your patience and for reading, and I'm excited for you all to see the development of (Y/N) and Andrew!
Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!
Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, current chapter, chapter 6 (in the works)
#stellar constellations#andrew graves x reader#andrew tcoaal#andrew graves#tcoaal#andy graves x reader#andy graves#andy and leyley#the coffin of andy and leyley#tcoaal andrew#female yandere#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x yandere#yandere#yandere x willing reader#yandere girl#x female y/n#x fem!reader#fem reader#x yn#x female reader
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Ronance Headcanons <3
i love these blorbos i had too
robin loves loves LOVES to give nancy homemade gifts and wildflowers(as shown in the singular oneshot i made)
nancy loves it just as much, even tho she’s not a gift person
nancy gets super protective of robin mostly because of what happened to barb, fred and later max(and to some extent even eddie)
so she’ll almost always have robin by her side, and sometimes even has a hand flat on her arm or back when they’re walking somewhere
robin loves the attention and although she’s deathly afraid of being discovered, she can never say no to Nancy
When Nancy’s tired she’ll get super clingy and pouts whenever Robin isn’t next to her
Robin loves to take care of Nancy despite how independent she is, and the few times she gets to she feels like she’s been blessed by the universe
Along with the fact that their gay, and the fact that they’re somewhat private individuals, most of their dates are picnics in a secluded space or in the safety of one of their houses
Once when they couldn’t have their date night at either of their houses and it was raining outside they went to Steve’s to have a movie night
Horrible idea. They don’t hate Steve by any means, but he would not leave them alone and followed them around like a puppy, commenting about the movie, trying to squeeze himself between them on the couch, etc.
Safe to say they never did that again while Steve was home
Nancy has a really hard time with vulnerability and letting people in, she tends to isolate herself(felt)
So whenever she has a hard time, she’ll try to shut herself in her room and refuse to come out(and when she does, she doesn’t talk to anyone and makes zero expression)
Mike ofc, being the amazing annoying brother he is, notices, and calls Robin because as dense as he is, it’s quite clear to see that Robin and Nancy are all over each other
Robin is over within 15 minutes, breathing heavily from the ride on her bike, knocking at Nancy’s door
Nancy, thinking it’s her brother, stomps to the door and opens it with a scowl on her face, about to tell anyone off
But, as soon as she sees her lovely Robin and not her annoying brother, she instantly deflates with a pout
She can’t help it, the sight of Robin just forces her body to let everything out
So they spend the rest of the night cuddled together on Nancy’s bed, Robin wrapped around Nancy to provide a source of comfort and weight while she cries into Robin’s chest
also i just love the idea of nancy being obsessed with robins smell, whether its a perfume or just her natural scent. nancy loves to tuck into robins neck or chest and just breathe her in
#ronance#headcanon#robin buckley x nancy wheeler#i love these two sifhakehdjsk#i hope you like it#ozul yaps
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