#It may be 4:30am and I may be sick

[lucielovekj]

I’ve had one of those “so bad my skin hurts” days and idk if it’s a flare, lack of sleep, if I’m sick or all of the above

[ugly-pickle]

you will always come first ☆ ayato

CHARACTERS: ayato x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: you start to think that he values his duties more than you… but you are proven wrong

GENRE: fluff 💿

W/C: 0.5k

C/W: kissing, physical touch, cussing, and if you squint your eyes you can see some neglect (if theres anything ive missed please let me know!)

A/N: i finished my scara angst at 4:30am… it is currently 7am and i have JUST voted on my own poll……… i have not slept yet. not proofread!

it’s been a while since youve went on a date, or at least do something romantic with ayato. i mean, you both have many duties, with your husband being the head of the kamisato clan, and you being his wife.

today, you both have your day off, but ayato still decides to do paperwork on his rest day, and his only break days comes in once a blue moon. youve been hinting at him, youve been sighing a little too loud and pointing out the lovely couples that come to the estate just to drop off MORE paperwork.

even after your attempts to try to let him know, he still doesnt get it! and now hes talking to an official so you cant even talk to him… youre sick and tired of how dense the head of the kamisato clan can be! it breaks your heart not being able to have some one on one time with your beloved.

you head to your shared bedroom, while walking there you see ayaka and thoma, “oh hello y/n,” says ayaka, “hello ayaka, hello thoma” you say, your tone being obviously depressed. “are you okay y/n?” thoma asks you with a worried face. “well… it’s been a while since ive been on a date with ayato and…” you look up to see ayaka giggling, “w-whats so funny?” youre a bit offended, youve just told the two about your troubles and now ayaka is giggling? “oh youll see,” thoma tells you before he walks away with ayaka.

what the fuck just happened. whats going on? maybe hes finally gonna take you out? “y/n?” you you jumped a bit at the sudden surprise, but you quickly regain your composure, “oh hi babe!” he puts a hand on your shoulder, “are you okay y/n? youve been acting strange all day, have i done something wrong?”

you feel guilty for making your beloved feel sad, “well, uhm… look ayato, it’s been ages since we been on a date together and i kinda feel like you forgot about…” you advert your eyes from his, he puts his fingers under your chin and lifts your head. "of course i didnt forget our anniversary, thats what i was planning all day, im sorry for not planning it earlier."

what.

oh shit, that was today? youve been so focused on going on a date with ayato that the thought of your anniversary was completely forgotten. ayato sees the slight panic in your eyes, "i dont need a gift, just being with you is the greatest present ive ever received." you feel a your shoulders relax but can still feel a tinge of guilt.

ayato presses a kiss on your temple and says "no matter if it's my day off or if im drowned in work, you will always come first my love."

A/N: all of my brain juices were out by the time i started writing this. very very cringe but i didnt know what to write ૮ ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ྀིა

@justaxiaosimp @mommykukki @xdrin @midnight-pluto @boomie-123 @scaramochies @dnsuhwr874y @hopefulceladon @yukinenikora @akusiapaakudimana @mai-yay @uhfhfhfhf @petitte-writer

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Hi I hope your doing okay!

I was hoping to request one with Aaron Hotchner’s daughter, she’s about 3-4 and she’s autistic, Aaron took her to work because she’s sick one day

Aaron Hotchner X Autistic Daughter Reader

I was hoping to request one with Aaron Hotchner's daughter, she's about 3-4 and she's autistic, Aaron took her to work because she's sick one day

I love this idea

Third person pov...

After two weeks of being away on a case Hotch is happy to be in his own bed in his home knowing his children are safe and only a few doors down from him instead of being in another state.

Currently it was 4:30am, Hotches alarm wouldn't go off for another hour and a half. The man was dead asleep under his covers, then his doors opens slightly and in pops a little H/C head.

It was Y/N Hotches daughter, the 3 year old sniffles slightly before walking into the dark room, she hugs her stuffed bunny tighter as she walks in.

She looks at the bed and walks over silently, once she got closer to the figure she shook her daddy's shoulder, Hotch didn't wake up, sniffling again the little girl shook his shoulder harder.

"Daddy" she whispers into his ear as she shook his shoulder, this makes the man wake up he opens his eye, still half asleep before realising who it was.

"N/N, what's going on?" He questions the little girl sitting up in his bed, he looks over at the time and sighs sleepily only 4.30, he then picks the toddler up and tucks her next to him under the covers.

The girl sniffles again whiping her nose on the back of her hand. Big watery E/C eyes look into his. "Don' feel well" sniffles the little girl before coughing loud and hard.

Hotch pats her back and uses the back of his hand to feel her forehead, after a couple seconds he pulls it back. "Your burning up Honey, how do you feel?" He asks picking the little girl up into his arms.

Y/N wraps her arms around his neck, the man turns around to wlak out the door but Y/N wriggles around. "Bun bun" she whispers in a horse voice, Hotch turns around laying forgotten was Bun Bun Y/Ns special bunny.

The man bend down and picks the toy up and gives Y/N it. "Oh no we cant forget Bun Bun can we" he says as the two go downstairs.

As they walk Y/N tells her dad how she feels "achy Daddy" she says and points to her throat, Nose and coughs again makong Hotch pat her back.

Hotch leaves Y/N on the couch before going to the Bathroom and to the medicine cabinet, he then grabs some paracetamol and a glass of water for the girl.

"Here sweetie" he says and hands them to her, Y/N, shakes her head at the tablets. Even though he crushes them up she still hates taking them, Hotch then moves the little girl to his lap and holds the tablets for her to have.

Once the toddler had taken them and had managed to fall asleep again, Hotch was stuck he couldn't move as Y/N was laying on him and he finally got her to sleep, so the man stild and let her sleep.

Hour 30 minutes later...

Hotch was tired, but hadn't fallen back to sleep incase Y/N needed him. Checking his watch the man saw the time. "6.00am got to wake up Jack" he mutters before gently moving his daughter and walking upstairs he had to get ready for work.

Once he was ready qnd Jack was ready for school, Hotch had to think of what to do with Y/N, she couldn't be alone but he couldn't take a day off work.

Walking into the living room he had an idea, probably not the best idea but it should work, he then gently woke Y/N up.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" He asks the toddler, Y/N rubs her eyes tiredly as she sits up on the sofa. "Lil' better Daddy" she said voice quiet, Hotch smiles and strokes her flushes face still radiating heat.

"I'm glad then, your coming to work with me today okay Baby" he explains to the toddler, she may be 3 but it pretty smart.

Once Y/N was dressed and wrapped in a warm blanket and had all her things Hotch grabbed his briefcase and got both kids into the car.

First they dropped Jack of at school, then they drove to the FBI headquarters, As Hotch walks in with his sick daughter he of coruse got many looks sent his way by other agents he was happy to get to the elevator.

"Now sweetie you can say hi to the team and I will set you up in my office if you need anything call me okay" Says Hotch to Y/N the toddler smiles and nods her head.

The father and daughter walk into the bullpen, the team were standing around waiting for Bossman to arrive. Derek spots the man first.

"Hey Hotch, we were wondering where you where man" he said walking over the team following, Hotch smiled at them in apologe.

"Sorry guys, was alte dropping Jack off" he said as the girls get excited at seeing little Y/N with Hotch. Y/N curls into her Dads arms more.

Derek takes a good look at his bosses face. "You look like shit mate, did you get any sleep?" He asks getting a nudge in the side by Penelope who nodded over at Y/N.

Derek gives a guilty look he forgot about her, the team all turn to look at their boss, Derek was right Hotch had large bags under his eyes, his tie was wonky and his shoulders slouched.

He looks down at Y/N and wraps the blanket around her more. "This one woke me up at 4.30, has a cold haven't slept since. Then was late dropping Jack off" he explains, JJ gives him a knowing look.

The others are shocked. "4.30!" Exclaimed Emily and Derek mouths open in shock. "Now then I have to get Y/N sorted in my office to back go work" Says Hotch back in Boss mode.

The team watch as the tired man walk up the ramp towards his office, once he was inside he put Y/N on the floor and set the blanket up on the sofa infront of his office and all her toys on the floor so she wouldn't get bored.

"Here you go sweetie" he says and sets the ill toddler on the mountain of blankets and gives her a cup of water, he will make sure she drinks lots of fluids throughout the day.

"Thanks' Daddy" Says the toddler making Hotch smile.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot ! Sorry for grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 1142

[thelampisaflashlight]

Have You Ever Eaten a Whole Bag of Sour Patch Kids

[This started as lore, and then turned into... whatever this is. I take my craft very seriously. Dew has a strange encounter.] Below the cut.

As Alice fell into Underland and thus deemed it Wonderland in her awe, so, too, did Dew tumble his way through the briars and brambles, and narrow paths of trees into the warm embrace of Hell.

He'd gone astray, a lost lamb -or perhaps a foolish wolf- gone without his shepherd; Over the guard rail that marked the divide between the road turned to gravel and the forest beyond.

Seeking shelter, sick from that first shock of falling, falling, falling down...

And the nauseous quake of too much alcohol and not enough food in his belly.

The dark night overhead, the stars hidden by clouds heavy with rain, the dull rumble of thunder getting closer.

His hands scraped up, bleeding from where he'd clutched to harsh pines and wicked thorns to stop his knees from buckling and losing himself among the brown needles strewn upon the ground.

It's never been clear to him... where and when his body gave out.

But the memory -the dream- of larger hands cradling him as a babe in arms, carrying him from the forest to the footpath, swaddled in pitch black furs of an animal unknown to him remains, persistant.

Rousing himself from a deep slumber beneath those same furs, Dew stares up at his ceiling.

Years have past since his arrival at the abbey, since his transformation into a ghoul, and his baptism into the church of Satan.

With a huff, he turns his head and eyes the clock on his nightstand.

4:30AM.

Too early to be getting out of bed on his day off, but the shifting of his body returns some sensation to other parts, and before he can reason with his bladder to go back to sleep, he's up and headed to the bathroom before he can piss himself.

His legs protest, and Dew decides he doesn't have the energy to stand up to take a leak, and plants himself firmly on his porcelain throne.

No sense in putting in more effort than is necessary, but as he's sitting there, and ever so slightly more awake, Dew reaches for one of the magazines he keeps in the bathroom.

An unsanitary practice, if you ask Aether, but Aether isn't here right now, and Dew has had enough late night regrets to not keep something worth reading in his on suite.

At the very least he isn't bringing his phone in the bathroom like SOMEBODY -Swiss- he knows.

...Flipping through a months old copy of Guitar World, he kind of wishes he'd brought his phone in here.

Dew hums and glances out at his bedroom, having not shut the bathroom door -he never does really, not unless someone else is in the room, and even then he's not exactly shy about this stuff- and feels his body go cold...

Someone's in his room.

A shadow is cast across his bed, a figure just out of sight.

He thinks, maybe, if he wasn't already in the process of doing so, he may very well have pissed himself from fear.

Startled, he gives an undignified shout and rushes to cover himself, screeching when-

"...Dew, I threw up..."

"AEON ERIK PHANTOMIME, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK-"

Aeon sniffles pathetically.

"Can I have a hug...?"

Dew looks at him aghast.

"...My pants are literally around my fucking ankles right now and you want a... How did you get in my room?? I had the door locked! And why the fuck didn't you knock... Geezus..."

Aeon does grabby hands towards him, looking utterly miserable.

"...Gimme, like, two minutes."

"...You need two minutes to pee?"

Dew throws his magazine at him.

"I need to fucking pull up my damned pants and wash my hands"

Aeon blinks at him.

"You wash your hands after you pee?"

"I'm pretending you didn't say that just now." Dew says, shooing him out of the doorway, "If you're not all gross, go lay down..."

Climbing back into bed after finishing up, Dew settles and groans as Aeon tries to cozy up to him, the lankier ghoul attempting to curl himself into a little ball against his chest.

Dew pets his back, if only because the slow, easy motion is soothing to him in its own way, "So, you think you caught some kinda weird bug, or did you just eat something strange again?"

Aeon hesitates, still attempting to worm his way, from the feel of it, into Dew's stomach.

"Have you ever eaten a whole bag of sour patch kids in one sitting..?"

"...No."

"Why did you pause?"

"Shut up and sleep, or I'm suffocating you with my body."

"...Yes, sir."

[prettyboybillyhargrove]

Dacre Montgomery (‘Stranger Things’) on filming his Season 4 appearance from Australia: ‘I put everything into this moment’ [Exclusive Video Interview]

Sam Eckmann TV June 17, 2023 6:30AM

“I like to do a lot of character prep and development and sort of live in character,” explains Dacre Montgomery of his acting process. The breakout “Stranger Things” star made a surprise return to the hit Netflix series in Season 4 despite his character Billy being killed in the previous season. His appearance was brief, but it provided the actor with a unique filming opportunity and the chance to put a final touch on a role that means a great deal to him. “It’s a culmination of hundreds of hours of work and really living in character in many ways,” says Montgomery. Watch the exclusive video interview above.

The Duffer Brothers called Montgomery near the start of the global pandemic with the offer to return for some pivotal scenes with Max (Sadie Sink). “And then it became quite difficult to leave Australia,” says the actor, noting that he was stuck in his home country while the series was being filmed in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Montgomery recorded lines of dialogue for Sink to work with as she filmed in the U.S., but it became too difficult a prospect for him to join her. To his surprise, production agreed to shoot his material in Perth. “They decided to shoot the scenes in my hometown, but a sound stage of the size that they needed, with a blue screen stage, didn’t exist. So they built one just for the one scene in Western Australia, which was awesome,” he admits. The costumes, wigs, and prosthetics for Billy were flown in from across the globe, and the actor worked with a local Australian team to put it all together.

“But the strangest part of it all was I was on a blue stage,” he admits. He had a tiny earpiece playing Sink’s lines for him, but he otherwise only had a tennis ball to act opposite. The performer describes the process as “highly emotional work,” not only because of the content of the scenes, but because of his deep attachment to his character. So despite the strange circumstances, filming by himself while in and out of hotel quarantine, Montgomery “put everything into this moment.”

Because of his isolation in Oz, Montgomery reveals that he had “no real context obviously of what was happening in the rest of the season.” This includes the setup that the villain Vecna (Jamie Campbell Bower) produces an illusion of Billy as a representation of Max’s grief, and as a way to lure her into accepting death. But Montgomery had no designs on portraying a new version of the character. “I really just wanted to play Billy for Billy, and give the sort of authenticity of the character work in that space,” he explains, “There’s so much core memory there of Billy and who he is. So this sort of materialization of him, it was important for me to play the character properly rather than trying to be an offshoot.”

Viewers may also describe Billy as a villain, but Montgomery is drawn to the discovery of what lurks beneath the surface of this kind of figure. “There’s this sort of truth in a weird sick way in the mask,” he explains, “These antagonists, or perceived antagonists, are trying to cover up deep trauma. So obviously that they wear this mask that’s outwardly facing.” During his time on “Stranger Things,” he enjoyed exploring what made Billy put on his mask in order to humanize the character. Montgomery had to mine his own personal fears and demons in order to tap into this facet of Billy. That process is scary, but also cathartic. “I think working with Billy, there was three or four years, however long I was involved with the show, of catharsis,” states Montgomery.

[life-with-my-three]

It’s been a long fortnight.

Hattie had her PEG changed under general anaesthetic about 10 days ago. It’s always a trigger and trying to get her to eat anything orally after is a struggle. Kinder is talking about possibly increasing her tube feeds there as she just completely refuses to eat there since. Luckily it was only a day stay, but it meant 4 hours total of driving, with Hattie who gets car sick. So I cleaned multiple vomits up.

We dropped Fletch at school last week at 9am. Then we received a call at 9:05am from the local autism assessment team asking if we could get there by 9:30am as they’d had a cancellation. We’d also had a similar call the morning of Hattie’s PEG change, but seeing as we were a 2 hour drive away I had to decline. We’ve been waiting 2 years for this appointment so I was going to try everything to make it work.

We made it to the appointment, Fletch got an official ASD level 2 diagnosis.

Logically it’s nothing unexpected. We’ve known. Autism doesn’t upset me, it’s just part of who he is and that’s fine. I still cried for 2 days straight though. I’m not upset about the diagnosis itself. I am concerned about the world we live in and the arseholes in it though that may make things hard for him just because he has autism. Even though logically nothing has changed and this will make getting help easier.

School disability officer rang that afternoon without knowing what had happened. We’ve been able to set some further things in motion.

It’s good. This will help him. It’s just hard when I have so much childhood trauma wrapped up in an autism diagnosis. I lost my brother to suicide from people bullying him because he had autism. That can’t happen to my boys.

[theretirementstory]

21/04/24. Another day in Paris. It was an early start, I was out of bed at 5:30am and by the time we got back in the evening it was after 7pm. Boy was I tired! However, I am going to Paris for the next part of the CAR-T cell therapy on Thursday April 25. I should be staying in the hospital in Paris for 3-4 weeks. I am just praying that the food is good.

Now it’s time to do my tax return as it has to be completed by May 23 and I don’t want to send an email saying I am in hospital again! I have all of the information it is just a case of finding where to put it on the forms.

Had a catch up chat with Rosie who lives In Poitou-Charentes. Anie messaged to see if she could visit, she brought me a delightful bunch of muguet. While I was checking on a crumble I was cooking, there was a knock on the door. I opened the front door to find a huge bunch of muguet tucked into the door handle and Marlene was disappearing down the drive. I dashed out to speak to her and her husband before they left. I was so happy to receive these lovely gifts.

I had to have a platelet transfusion in Troyes on Monday and before they would let me leave the hospital in Paris on Tuesday I had to have another platelet transfusion. Can you believe I was booked in for another in Troyes on Friday afternoon. Well I got to the hospital on time, then after a blood test I was told I couldn’t have the transfusion on Friday I have to return on Monday morning. I was so angry but as I have found no amount of anger changes the stance of these people. Coming back in the taxi, I had to sit in the back, by the time we got home I was feeling travel sick! So Monday at 8:45am it is, what’s the betting that it will be more than one transfusion and I will be there all day 😩. I think I will need my case packing this afternoon!

Monique came to visit, she brought me lilac from her trees and three delicious cakes, bought at the most expensive cake shop in town! I cannot believe how well we get along and how we can sit and talk for hours when Monique only speaks French and German 🤔. She stayed for about 3 hours by which time we had put the world to rights.

I spoke to a cousin in London, who is terrified that WW3 is about to break out. To be honest if it does there is not much you or I can do about it and if someone pushes the button we may not even have time to worry. Just one thing I would like to know, in case this should happen, was Andrew Hillier from France 24, born in the North East of England? 😂

Anie called to see me again, bearing more gifts. This time it was pain d’épicés and a jar of homemade soup. The pain d’épicés contained walnuts too, it was absolutely delicious.

I needed some pj’s to wear in the hospital so I popped to Gemo in town and got a couple of pairs of pj bottoms and four t shirt tops as I need tops with short sleeves. I was given the sheet advising what I can eat on the protected feeding plan. Now I will be on this diet while I am in hospital but was told there is a washing machine available to wash my nightclothes. As I will be expected to remain in my room, being so far from home that I won’t have any visitors, I wonder how my pj’s will manage to get washed? Answers on a postcard please 😂😂.

The doctor from Paris phoned me just to say he had all the scan results and providing I don’t have Covid, he will see me on Thursday. Oh gosh it’s exciting and terrifying at the same time! I am hoping that I will be able to do my blogs but as some of the risk factors are neurological and I may lose the ability to write (temporarily) I will have to wait and see.

I have had two deliveries this week, the first was four books from another cousin in the UK and the second was a card and two magazines from a friend in the UK. I finally managed to package up, again, the gift I sent her last year which was refused by UK customs and returned to me.

“The Trainee Solicitor” has been stressed again this week! Having to keep one eye on training the new recruit and the other on dealing with his cases I guess he is looking a bit like Marty Feldman! Anyway it’s the weekend and a time to clear your head ready for the forthcoming week.

“The Reconnect Navigator” is going to be doing a new role at work until such time as a replacement is found. All experience and I think it will be rather interesting too. Her new Dr Marten boots have rubbed her feet and made them very sore. She went out on Friday evening with friends, I do hope she didn’t have to go barefoot!

“The Photographer” has his children this weekend. On Friday evening he had prepared a cottage pie with red wine jus and cheesy mash. Apparently the children really enjoyed it and my grandson had second helpings! On Saturday they met up with “The Trainee Solicitor” and “The Reconnect Navigator” for lunch, so I imagine that was a great experience too, as both children adore them! I was sent photos on Friday evening, of both children playing with large cardboard boxes. I love imaginary play where the box can be your home, a car, boat or plane it’s just wonderful to see children playing this way. Of course I love to see them as they are growing up so quickly, apparently my grandson can count to ten in French.

“The Jetsetter”, has been continuing with the day job until she goes away again. Not long now girl, I will be thinking of you on the day you fly but don’t you be thinking of me 😂.

The music this week starts with a song from a married couple. It was released in 1988, it’s Teardrops by Womack and Womack.

The second song is from 1997 (that was a good year😉) it’s by Savage Garden and it’s “To The Moon And Back”.

On my travels I have noticed that lilac, laburnum and the candles on the horse chestnut trees are all in evidence. I think they are probably a few weeks early. My cherry tree has lots of cherries starting to appear. Let’s hope that no heavy frost comes and kills them off.

So I will do my best to get a blog out to you next week. I am staying in the Saint-Antoine hospital in Paris. The nurse who was doing the transfusion said “ oh you are going to be staying on the floor”, I replied “Well I am hoping for a bed actually” to which we both had a laugh. The hospital is older than the one in Troyes, the room is probably going to be smaller and the “salle de douche”, in the room I was in on the day unit, was tiny, I could have taken a shower while sitting on the toilet! Maybe that’s how my pj’s will get washed 🤔.

The photo at the top of the blog Is the barrière du trône and this final photo is somewhere in the 12th arrondissement.

Jusqu’à la semaine prochaine.

[vampirethin27]

I ended my 60 hour fast (Sat, 2/10 7:30pm ~ Tues, 2/13 7:30am) with Powerade, and I think that's the ticket for me honestly.

The dropped insulin + the raised adrenaline (because I have POTS syndrome and that kicks in heavy in the mornings) were awful, but I was really just trying not to get sick again because I don't want my mother thinking I need to go to my cardiologist 💀 so I researched for like 5 minutes and figured I'd give it a shot since there's like 34g of sugar in a Powerade, and apparently that followed by eating baked potato chips is what my body wants after?? I'll probably switch it up with like a sugary smoothie and some almonds or whatever in the future, but woooo!

So yesterday was spent talking to a friend and getting food back in me. I was able to eat the foods I struggled not to break my fast with (chicken alfredo with a new 4 ingredient pasta which I swear is the best pasta I've ever had, never going back to the boxes, the last half slice of cake left in the fridge, dark chocolate, Greek yogurt, strawberry Ramune, it was lovely), and then I almost skipped dinner because it was supposed to be shrimp tacos and they're like meh to me, but then they ended up being sandwiches with cabbage and tomato and a sauce my mother made and they were under 250kcals, soooooooo I caved and it was delicious

Sometime at 8 or 9 yesterday morning I realized that the belt I had cut a new hole into that was a bit too small for me that I had to suck my stomach in for fit me. I fit into the goal I forgot I set, and I have never felt a feeling like what I felt in my body when I realized.

Today mother made me food at noon and I hadn't eaten yet today, so I went into my fasting app and checked how long it had been between meals to see if it was even worth logging... I accidentally fasted for 17 hours. For reference, fasts 16 hours or over are loggable to me. Anything else is, personally, barely a fast and I won't even acknowledge it usually. So I've been having quite a nice few days 😎✨️💃🤭

OKAY good luck to you all, may you reach random ass goals, go hydrate bitches (<33)

[trinityho0516]

May 4, 2023

11:18pm

This morning I originally woke up at 9:30am, but then I realized I wasn't feeling too well so I ended up sleeping in until 12:00pm. This meant I got around 5-7 hours of sleep, which is not optimal for being sick but its honestly more than what I've gotten in the past couple of days. After I mustered up the courage to go to one of my office hours, I got Killer Noodle with Chelsea and Sam!! I got the Tokyo style with no soup and it was actually so FIREEEE!! I hope Jake got fomo for not coming to our lunch, but its okay, I know the four of us will hangout soon! Afterwards we all got dressed up and then went to the Bomb shelter. I then got Epic at Ackerman with some of my friends and I got the funghi pizza!! It was really yum and then I chugged water which made me really full. Once I got back to the hill, I hung out with Brandon and Ellie, which was super funnnn and I really want to run it back again. Now I have to do homework *sigh*. Overall today was an okay day, but looking forward to getting more productive!

[cliffolly]

Just One Day

AO3 Link

Oneshot | 6.4K Words

Taegi | Established Relationship, Mild Smut, Fluff

I wrote this very much with love, hope, and nostalgia in my heart. Though he'll never see this (God, I hope he never sees this), for my lovely husband, without whom I would have never thought of writing again.

Yoongi doesn't dream tonight. He sleeps heavily, anxiety almost forgotten as it sits in the pit of his stomach. In the back of his head, he hears "Don't be late. Don't be late. Don't be late." His eyes snap open at the sounding of his alarm, and so his day begins.

Sometimes, it’s easy for Yoongi to forget that he hasn’t known Taehyung for all his life.

Yoongi always wakes up first. It used to be Taehyung, but after losing his factory job almost 6 months ago, Taehyung hasn’t had to wake up before five in the morning since then, save for when he has to travel far for roofing projects.

At 4:30AM, everything is quiet and still aside from the fan that sits at the foot of their bed. Taehyung left it on again, as well as the LED lights that perimeters the ceiling. The room glows a low yellow, and Yoongi can only stare idly at the ceiling for a few minutes before a pang of nausea ruins the calm of his morning.

It’s been this way for a couple months now. Every morning, a moment of peace before sudden nausea. Seldom does anything actually come up, but yesterday morning, Yoongi had been revisited by dinner from the previous night, so he’d much rather be safe than sorry this morning.

Yoongi reaches out for the boxers he’d thrown to the side last night and pulls them over his legs before wiggling down the length of the bed until his feet hit the cold, tiled floor. He finds his sandals with ease and pulls up his boxers as he stands, shivering a bit from the cold. Swiftly, he reaches out to shut off the fan while grabbing his glasses from the vanity with his other hand. As soon as he can see, he makes his way to the bathroom, out the bedroom, down the short hallway, all the while battling the urge to gag with a shudder that runs through his body.

Yoongi had always been of a soft nature growing up. He couldn’t eat breakfast for the longest because eating that early would make him sick. If it was too cold, he’d gag with little control, not to mention the way his body reacted to any unfavorable smells he had the misfortune of coming across. He’d been nauseous for every first day of school up until high school, and he’d been doing a lot better since then.

Ever since graduating college, however, it’s gotten so much worse, especially in the mornings. Yoongi did a stint of therapy months ago, and his therapist suggested it may be anxiety, but that sounded too expensive, and that terrified him. What if something else was wrong with him, but he couldn’t afford to fix or control it? He hadn’t been to an appointment since then.

Yoongi washes his hands at the sink before looking up and staring at his reflection in the rusty mirror.

It hurts to admit it, but this isn’t the life Yoongi had imagined for himself growing up.

Call him crazy, but Yoongi’s imagined future was always a nice house, a nice car, a nice job. Impeccable bathroom. Free access to his kitchen. Not having to hide his things in fear of people stealing them. Not working from before sun-up to sundown. Not this. Certainly, heartbreakingly, not this.

Yoongi contemplates his choices as he wanders back to his and Taehyung’s bedroom, making sure to find his trashcan before he dares to start getting ready, just in case.

It’s not his fault, and it’s not Taehyung’s either. Yoongi has to remember that to keep his anger from getting the best of him. It’s easy to blame Taehyung; he’s the one who got them this space while Yoongi was still studying away at college. But Yoongi knows it isn’t fair when he knows he was just doing his best.

Yoongi is a recent college physics graduate, and he isn’t without his prospects. There are numerous job opportunities pertaining to his field of study, and he could make good money with it, but Yoongi can’t fight this feeling of fear 𑁋 fear of change, fear of responsibility, fear of adulthood.

Just one year before he starts his big kid job, he had said after graduating. Just one year is all he needs. Eighteen consecutive years of education can break a person, and Yoongi felt he deserved a break, so just one year will do. Six months later, that one year turned into two. No, Yoongi wasn’t putting off going to work-work, at least he didn’t think so. But what if he was, subconsciously?

Yoongi’s gaze falls on Taehyung, still asleep. His overgrown, thick hair sticks out in every direction. He’s got this look of concentration on his face, his mouth slightly open, and his snoring isn’t as loud as it usually is. Yoongi knows he’s mostly naked, wearing one of Yoongi’s boxers, and he’s most likely spread eagle under the thick duvet that he wears up to his chin. He sleeps deeply, beautifully. Bless him.

Taehyung had dropped out of high school when he was sixteen. Abusive father. Violent family. Taehyung needed out. Yoongi knows the story. Yoongi knows the story too well. Taehyung moved out young, had worked odd jobs, manual labor, a dangerous factory job where he almost lost life and limb too many times to count 𑁋 that’s the one Yoongi hated most. He couldn’t stand to be alone. He couldn’t bear the thought of being without Taehyung.

After checking the time, Yoongi is close to running late, so he packs his toothbrush and toothpaste into his backpack and grabs a stick of gum from the shelves of snacks that he and Taehyung had started keeping recently. He shoves the gum in his pocket and slings on his backpack before carefully moving towards Taehyung’s side of the bed, whispering softly, “I’m leaving now.”

That’s all it takes to wake up Taehyung, but just barely. His dark eyes peek out from thick lashes to watch as Yoongi takes a seat at the edge of the bed. His voice is thick with sleep when he mutters in a low, raspy manner, “Already?”

Yoongi leans down to plant a kiss on Taehyung’s lips, two kisses, three, a fourth just for good luck. Taehyung has his arms, heavy, around Yoongi, gently pulling him into his neck and humming softly, his skin warm to the touch and Yoongi wants so desperately to stay like this. Taehyung smells like deodorant, fabric softener, and sleep. It takes Yoongi all the force he can muster to pull himself away from Taehyung’s warm embrace, and he’s only half-aware of the smile that sits on his lips.

“I’m running late.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, lids so low that Yoongi only knows they’re open from the soft reflection of the LED lights. “Be safe.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi is up now, grabbing his keys and water bottle before heading to the door. “I love you.”

“Text me when you get there.”

“I will. Be good.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. I love you.”

“Drive safely.”

“Uh-huh. Bye, baby.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Bye, baby, go carefully. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Yoongi repeats before he shuts the door.

It’s his favorite part of the morning. As much as he hates leaving, he loves this little ritual. Taehyung is almost deaf in the morning, and he’s much too sleepy to hold an actual conversation, but Yoongi loves the way he sends him off, the way his voice claws its way from Taehyung’s throat. Yoongi longs for his next day off so they can sleep in together, but with the way work has been, it’s only wishful thinking at best.

Yoongi’s in his car and he has a thirty-minute drive ahead of him. If he steps on it, he’ll only be a minute late. As soon as Yoongi gets on the highway, he does just that. And as he drives, he thinks.

These drives, though tedious and life-threatening (people drive stupid before 6AM), are important to Yoongi, in their own way. He thinks of many things during these drives 𑁋 his future, his plans, his life with Taehyung, his past, his beliefs, his desires. Just yesterday, he used the law of the conservation of matter and energy to justify the belief of reincarnation. Taehyung loved that conversation once Yoongi got home.

Today, Yoongi’s head is foggy on the drive to work. He weaves carefully through traffic, much more mindful now than he used to be.

Huh, life’s funny like that. Four years ago, Yoongi would be driving much more recklessly 𑁋 he had a sports car four years ago, so that may be part of the reason. He also didn’t have Taehyung back then.

Yoongi met Taehyung during the winter break of his freshman year of college. Yoongi had been eighteen, working over every school break to help scrape together money for his tuition. He’d caught wind of a manual labor job from a friend, and it paid decently enough; that’s how Yoongi found himself working as part of a clean-up crew for a team of roof repairmen.

At the time, Taehyung was tittering on seventeen, but an experienced roofer. He spent his time on the roofs, ripping apart shingles, hammering down ridges, and installing whirlybirds. Yoongi only knew him in passing as the gross guy who kept spitting on the roofs. The most their interactions ever accumulated to was Taehyung shouting down if Yoongi could throw him a couple of waters.

It wasn’t until a couple months after they had started dating that Taehyung told him the full story while they laid in bed.

“I saw you, and that was it. I was curious, and I asked around, ‘Who is that? What is he doing here?’ They said, ‘Oh, that’s Yoongi, he’s going to be helping out.’”

“Why didn’t you talk to me yourself? I didn’t even know your name.” “No, I was too shy to talk to you myself. Do you know how hard it was for me to ask you to throw me waters? I was too scared to talk to you. I’d always watch you. You were lovely. I still remember seeing you drive away in your little car and I’d think, no, he’s too cool.”

“You thought I was cute? In the shitty sweatpants and hoodies I wore?”

“I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. I wanted to talk to you, I really did, to ask if you wanted to hang out, if you had a boyfriend, but there was no way you were single, and I didn’t want to bother you. You were there to work, not find a boyfriend. That’s why I always went to Jin’s place, hoping you’d be there. Maybe there I could talk to you.”

In the end, that’s how it happened, but it took a whole year.

Yoongi was visiting from college during Thanksgiving break of his sophomore year and couldn’t head to his brother’s place due to a chemical plant blowing up nearby, so Jin offered his couch to Yoongi for the week. While everyone else sat outside drinking, Yoongi and Hoseok had sat inside, watching movies while they chatted, and Taehyung, who hadn’t seen Yoongi in that whole year, came inside, “pretending” (Taehyung insisted he had, Yoongi knows it was all lies) that he needed to use the restroom only to find it occupied. Taehyung had sat on another couch nearby to wait his turn before asking timid questions to Yoongi, how he was, what he was doing, how school was going, until Taehyung finally asked in that 2019 fashion, “Can I have your snapchat?”

Hoseok, ever the interloper, egged on Yoongi to say yes and watched with big eyes as the two exchanged contact information. Taehyung brought Yoongi and Hoseok drinks afterwards before disappearing outside (without even using the restroom, but whatever).

Taehyung messaged Yoongi almost immediately 𑁋 you’re beautiful.

Yoongi was unbathed, sleepy, and wearing old, mismatched pajamas, but he wasn’t one to deny himself compliments.

They went back and forth for a couple days, even after Yoongi went back to classes. The messages were constant, and Taehyung got into the habit of calling him every night before bed, sometimes sending him pictures in the middle of the day from work, shirtless, usually. They spoke about their beliefs, their days, their wishes for their individual futures.

Despite his own feelings,Yoongi did his best to stave off Taehyung, telling him maybe they should just be friends. After all, Yoongi had just gotten out of a relationship the summer before, and he’d just gotten over it. Aside from that, Yoongi wasn’t sure if he had it in him to balance a relationship on top of his course load and his jobs. Taehyung agreed, but he couldn’t help himself, really. Just as Yoongi was realizing just how serious Taehyung’s feelings for him were, Taehyung was already falling in love with Yoongi; it was no longer a matter of if they dated, but when they would.

Yoongi felt his stomach turn just at the memory of their first date. God, he had been so nervous.

On the first day of winter break, a couple weeks after meeting, Yoongi had only stopped by his brother’s place to shower and change before heading out to see Taehyung, almost losing himself on the way. He still remembered the polo shirt Taehyung wore as he walked out of his front door, silhouetted by the light inside. His hair was gelled back, his face clean-shaven, and his skin wore the most wonderful cologne. Yoongi waited idly inside his car and stepped out at the sight of Taehyung, waving timidly as the younger boy approached him, Taehyung’s smile bold, Yoongi’s nervous. 

It happened so quickly.

They shared a hug and, all these years later, Yoongi still isn’t sure how or why it happened. Maybe it was the pent up frustration. Maybe it was from all the sweet messages exchanged. Maybe it was Taehyung remembering the almost teasing messages Yoongi had sent after agreeing to meet up that day, that he just might kiss Taehyung when they saw each other, but he wasn’t sure yet.

Regardless, they shared a kiss, innocent at first, before Taehyung managed to back Yoongi against his car. Never, in his life, had Yoongi received such a ravenous kiss, and never had he enjoyed such a thing. Taehyung kissed passionately, a hand on Yoongi's nape and another on his bum. Yoongi could only weave his fingers into Taehyung’s hair, rest another hand at the small of his back, feeling something hot in the pits of his stomach as Taehyung bit his lower lip.

Yoongi blinked languidly, finding himself at a red light. He hadn’t realized he was this close to his job already.

He needed to stop daydreaming while driving.

Yoongi pulls into the parking lot of his job at six on the dot. He gets the shop open and set up within ten minutes, and manages to brush his teeth before the first customer arrives.

The work is easy, and the customers are pleasant enough. Yoongi doesn’t mind making coffees, and the food prep is easy in the sense that he finds a certain peace when he chops fruit, decorates shakes.

Though Yoongi enjoys the job, he can’t help but feel a bit of guilt. Business is slow, and he spends most of his free time writing music when he isn’t tending to the shop. His uncle says he trusts Yoongi, that he doesn’t even check the cameras ever since Yoongi started helping his uncle run his secondary shop. Yoongi likes the job, knows most of the customers by name and greets them so, but, as of late, he feels worry coming in. There’s only one other employee here, and they’re as dependable as a skittish dog. Yoongi carries the brunt of the responsibilities, managing employees (when they had more than one), conducting interviews (so many off-putting people Yoongi never wanted to meet again), and still running the shop on his own. He gets paid for it well, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the job weighing on him.

“We can always shut down that location,” his uncle offered a couple days ago when Yoongi had visited him at the primary shop. “If you like, you can just come work with me here. We’ll have fun like in the old days.”

Yoongi’s heart hurts. Shutting down, to him, is akin to quitting, and he feels to blame if his uncle’s shop doesn’t perform well. He can’t help the feeling that he might miss working here, seeing the same customers, meeting their friends, learning about their lives. But he also misses the sense of peace he had lost somewhere along the way.

“We can close weekends, but we should definitely close earlier, at least until the summer.” Yoongi’s uncle was too kind. “You need some days off. I’ll keep trying to find new employees before you leave for your job, should you still want to do that.”

Yoongi orders lunch to arrive around eleven; it’s the routine he’s settled into. Lunch at eleven, snack at three, clean and restock at four, mop at five, shut down at six sharp to head home. Closing earlier now, Yoongi will need to adjust his routine, and it makes his stomach turn.

There are intermittent spam calls throughout the day, sparse customers as the morning rush passes. Yoongi sits for lunch at eleven-fifteen, pulling out his laptop to watch trash reality TV shows while he eats, but as soon as he’s done, he exits the show. It doesn’t really hold his attention anymore.

It’s something Yoongi has noticed since junior year of college. Something in him isn’t okay. The things he used to enjoy, reading, writing, watching shitty people on shitty shows, doesn’t make him happy like it used to. He’d begun to feel ‘low,’ as his old therapist said. Often, especially alone at the shop, Yoongi finds himself in waves of sadness and complacency.

He had originally thought that the stress of college had induced this inside of him. Endless assignments, three jobs, a demanding degree 𑁋 he had felt so trapped to the point that, as much Yoongi hated to admit it, he had considered simply ending it all.

He remembers when he confessed to Taehyung, through tears, in a phone call, that sometimes Yoongi felt that he wanted to die. It was a desperate feeling that had been weighing on him for semesters, and Yoongi felt embarrassed to admit that having three late assignments honestly made him wish he wasn’t alive anymore. He expected Taehyung to wave it away; Yoongi wasn’t sure why, he knew Taehyung wasn’t like that. He remembers how Taehyung cried on his side of the call, apologized, told Yoongi he loved him, and then made the five-hour drive to Yoongi’s college apartment to spend the night with him, despite the fact that they both had work the next morning. Instead, they both stayed in and spent the day together.

It wasn’t the first time Yoongi called Taehyung in hysterics, and it wasn’t the last time that Taehyung dropped everything to support Yoongi in his times of great need. Then, and even now, Taehyung had been one of the only escapes for Yoongi, and it had been one of the first arguments they had after they started dating.

Taehyung insisted that he wanted to be everything for Yoongi, his joy, his motivation, his best friend, but Yoongi was too familiar with the signs of domestic abuse, and he knew he needed a life apart from Taehyung. He knew he couldn’t depend on Taehyung as his only source of happiness, and doing so would be unfair to Taehyung, but the younger boy didn’t seem to care. He said it was what he was here for.

Yoongi, too afraid to end up in his parents’ position, spent the first year of his relationship with Taehyung running away from him. He would run from arguments, ignore problems, and the distance between them while Yoongi was in college had been damaging to their relationship. Yoongi felt that the distance brought the worst out of them: jealousy, possessiveness, mistrust. Together, they were perfect, but any time spent with each other loomed under the knowledge that Yoongi would need to leave again. Yoongi longed for the day that wouldn’t be the case.

Taehyung had held Yoongi close in his arms, still warm and sweaty after sex, when he asked bravely, “Will you marry me?”

Yoongi laughed. It had only been three months since they started dating 𑁋 the question felt silly. “No.”

“You’re so mean.”

“Ask me again later.”

So, a month later, Taehyung did and, again, Yoongi said no.

Nine months after they started dating, Taehyung asked again, and, this time, Yoongi thought before responding.

“Not yet. Maybe later.”

A year later, it was Yoongi who asked, “When are we going to get married?”

Taehyung was incredulous. “We’re not getting married!”

“Why not?”

“You told me ‘no,’ remember?”

Yoongi did remember. “But I think I’m ready to seriously consider it now. So, when are we getting married?”

It happened in the span of two weeks.

It was just a couple months ago, Spring Break of Yoongi’s final spring semester in college before graduation. They decided suddenly. Yoongi found a judge willing to do it a couple days after they went to the city hall to pick up a marriage license. After going back to school for the week, Yoongi left early on Friday morning for the five-hour drive home. He picked up Taehyung before they left for a thrift store, picking out the nicest clothes they could find. The next day, they dressed giddily before noon, hurriedly, because they were running late. Yoongi had nagged Taehyung playfully not to forget their marriage license before leaving. Taehyung had made fun of Yoongi’s too-big shoes on the drive to the city hall. They had rushed through security, almost lost their way to the courtroom where an elderly man waved them down.

It was only Yoongi, Taehyung, the judge, and the elderly man in the courtroom. Taehyung and Yoongi stood in front of the judge, facing each other, holding hands. They tried to act cool, but they were both fighting tears. They knew they were tears of joy 𑁋 so happy to be here, so excited to be doing this 𑁋 but also of heartbreak. No mothers, no fathers, no friends there to witness the wedding. It was as joyful as it was painful, and it still hurt Yoongi when he thought back on the memory, but there were good moments, too.

Yoongi still laughs at the memory of Taehyung, stoic-faced and watery-eyed, saying with a crack in his voice, “I do.”

He remembers the sear in his own throat when tears spilled over onto his cheeks. “I do.”

When they kissed, he clung onto Taehyung, weak-kneed and tearful.

Oh, the embarrassment when the elderly man asked for Yoongi’s phone to take a picture of them!

They looked back at the photo only an hour later when they celebrated with a small dinner for two at a steakhouse, laughing at the sight of themselves. Yoongi, dressed in ill-fitting clothes, smiling through his red, puffy face, and Taehyung, glassy-eyed with an expression that read as though he had rather have been anywhere else in the world, holding up their marriage license like small children showing off an award.

Yoongi cried again, but from laughter, “Why do you look so mad?”

Taehyung doubled over in their booth, cackling, “I thought I was smiling!”

It’s a memory Yoongi cherishes almost ten months later, and he fears the day he may forget it.

Yoongi swipes to the next picture on his phone idly, fighting through tears and wiping needlessly at his nose. He doesn’t know why he does this to himself. He knows he’ll cry about it if he thinks about it too long, it’s always been that way, he should know better by now than to think of such things at work.

It’s four hours until closing, and Yoongi puts away his phone to open his laptop, the last customer having come in more than an hour ago.

He moves to open a music program and inserts an earbud as he works, starting new compositions, opening compositions he had started and never finished. As time crawls on, he resigns from the attempt an hour later, deciding maybe today simply isn’t a day for composing.

As Yoongi continues his routine, he finds himself thinking of his life again, and he can’t help but feel a bitterness at recognizing where he is.

At twenty-three, Yoongi had hoped he would have much more. He wanted his own home. He wanted a different job. His values then had been more materialistic, surely, and Yoongi could recognize that the things he wanted and needed were different, but he felt a disappointment in his current place.

Yoongi and Taehyung had no place of their own 𑁋 renting from friends was just the next best thing they could afford right now. Yoongi, who loved cooking and baking, had only been eating takeout food, and the weight was starting to show. Taehyung had gotten injured at a job a couple weeks ago and the infection on his leg still hadn’t cleared up entirely. The majority of Yoongi’s belongings that he’d brought from college were still in boxes, and that was just the remainder of what their old roommate hadn’t nicked from him. Yoongi, much to his own frustration, had learned these past few months that, as much as he loved Taehyung, Yoongi needed his own space, and he now lived every day with great hopes of an office of his own to work and create in.

Yoongi felt that so much of his desires were out of reach. Maybe he was selfish, wanting so much from life, expecting to live beyond his current means. Yoongi feels angry, frustrated, and he hates that Taehyung, too empathetic for his own good, knows.

A couple of months back, after their marriage, after Yoongi’s graduation, after a fight in which Yoongi had opened up about his frustrations, Taehyung held Yoongi close, as he often did after their fights, and he apologized to Yoongi. “I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”

Yoongi was confused, mouth agape as he laid on Taehyung’s chest, cheeks streaked with tears. “What do you mean? This isn’t your fault, this is just how things are.”

“It is my fault,” Taehyung stated. “I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I wasn’t ready to offer you the lifestyle that should come with a married life. I don’t have a secure job. I don’t have any kind of degree. I can’t provide the way you can. I’m sorry to burden you with the financial responsibilities of our relationship. I should try harder.”

Yoongi couldn’t speak.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m not mad, too. You think I want to keep you here? I know you’re not happy. I know you miss doing things on your own and having your own space. I’m tired of living with other people, too.”

They were both quiet for the longest time. Yoongi wanted to apologize, but he knew that Taehyung would only tell him there was no need, he wasn’t at fault.

Since then, Yoongi had started to take to a new motto: it’s only temporary.

Taehyung laughed at first, but Yoongi’s new mantra worked wonders for him.

Pissed on toilet seat? It’s only temporary.

Noisy roommates? It’s only temporary.

Shitty customer? It’s only temporary.

Though it worked most of the time, Yoongi’s motto could only do so much.

For Yoongi’s twenty-first birthday, Taehyung, underaged, somehow managed to buy Yoongi an expensive bottle of liquor. Yoongi wasn’t really one for drinking hard liquor, but he was overly sentimental. For two years, Yoongi treasured the bottle, kept it safe in its box along with the sticky note Taehyung left for Yoongi:

Happy birthday, Yoongi.

I love you, always.

After moving in together, Taehyung was no stranger to taking a couple shots every now and then, and Yoongi didn’t mind it; if he was going to have anyone else drink from it, it would be Taehyung.

Taehyung had texted Yoongi one evening while he was at work, asking if Yoongi had moved his bottle of liquor.

Yoongi

No, I didn’t move it. I left it in the storage room in my box of textbooks.

Taehyung

It’s not there anymore.

Yoongi

Did you move it the last time you drank from it?

Taehyung

I know what happened.

Their roommate had always had a habit of taking what wasn’t his.

The part that pissed Yoongi off the most, to this day, was that that man had to open the box, stare at the sticky note that Yoongi had stuck on the inside of the lid, and then pull out the bottle to drink. Yoongi couldn’t give a fuck if all the liquor was gone, he didn’t even care if the box and bottle were gone, but to know that the sticky note Taehyung had written for him, for his twenty-first birthday, was forever gone and that he would never get it back absolutely tore Yoongi’s heart into a million pieces.

Though Yoongi couldn’t control other people’s actions, he did his best to control his own emotions.

It’s only temporary.

Six o’clock comes and goes, and Yoongi is locking up shop, bundled up with his backpack slung over his shoulder. His feet hurt. His back hurts. His head is hurting something awful, and the only thing Yoongi wants is to go home and lay down with Taehyung, assuming he’s come back from work already.

The drive back home is faster than coming to work, and Yoongi debates whether he should pick up food on his way home. He shoots Taehyung a text, only to receive nothing in return, and he decides on picking up fried chicken for tonight.

The sky is dark by the time Yoongi gets home, lugged down by bags. He opens the door with a great balancing act, not wanting to bother Taehyung in case he’s asleep or showering 𑁋 his car is out front, but who knows how long he’s been home.

Yoongi enters the house, hearing soft music coming from the right side of the house, where their bedroom resides. There’s light peeking from their bedroom door, and Yoongi decides to try to open the door without unlocking it.

Inside, he finds Taehyung sitting on the edge of their bed, hair still wet from his shower, as he changes the towel off their Swiffer. There’s two new baskets of freshly washed clothes, the bed is perfectly made, and Yoongi’s heart sings, knowing that they make the perfect team.

Taehyung looks up with his big brown eyes, and Yoongi can’t help the smile that paints itself on his lips.

“Welcome home,” Taehyung says, abandoning the Swiffer to help Yoongi with his bags.

Yoongi forces himself not to ask Taehyung about ignoring his texts just yet; he’s been getting better at that. “Hi, baby.”

Taehyung drops Yoongi’s bags at the foot of the bed and turns to pull Yoongi into a hug, wrapping an arm around Yoongi’s lower back. “Hi,” and then a little peck (Yoongi forgets about the texts), two (he feels tension release from the middle of his back), three (Yoongi’s headache subsides just a bit), a fourth for good luck, “do you want to lie down for a bit?” (He loves this man so much).

Yoongi stinks in comparison to Taehyung, but his feet are screaming and the warmth of Taehyung’s body is calling his name. “Only for a little bit.”

Yoongi kicks off his shoes while Taehyung builds a little nest of pillows, just the way Yoongi likes, and a great wave of relief comes over Yoongi as he crawls into bed next to Taehyung. He’s been wanting to do this so badly all day, he could cry 𑁋 and he does.

Taehyung is quick in kissing Yoongi’s cheeks, stroking his hair, asking in a soft voice, “What’s wrong, love?” He wipes away the few tears left, pulling him closer after.

Yoongi can only shake his head and take in a deep breath, lightly tightening Taehyung in his embrace. “I don’t know, I’m just tired I guess. I missed you a lot today.”

“Did you have a good day?” His voice is soft, so forgiving. How could Yoongi ever blame him for anything?

“It was okay, but how was yours?”

“Tiring. We worked almost an hour away today, and my leg swelled up more.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Taehyung laughs. “It’s better now, don’t worry about it.”

Yoongi sighs, closes his eyes as he presses his face to Taehyung’s chest. It’s his favorite place to be, and Taehyung laughs warmly at the soft kisses Yoongi peppers on his ochre skin.

“What did you bring to eat?”

Yoongi sits up, but Taehyung pulls him back down. “Fried chicken,” Yoongi responds, burying himself in Taehyung’s neck.

“Do you want to eat or shower first?”

Yoongi chuckles. “No, a secret third thing,” he responds, reaching a hand down to cup Taehyung’s soft dick through his sweatpants.

Taehyung laughs, pushing him away playfully. “Oh, no, you’re horrible! Here I am dying of hunger, and you do this to me. I can’t wear sweatpants comfortably in this house anymore.”

Yoongi can’t help but laugh as he sits up on his knees, looking down at Taehyung.

He’s shirtless, always, and his face is only slightly sunburnt 𑁋 Taehyung looks just the way he did the day they met nearly four years ago.

The pit of Yoongi’s stomach burns a bit, and his eyes flash to the soft expanse of belly just above Taehyung’s hips.

“Don’t be so stingy,” Yoongi says, reaching down to pull away the band of Taehyung’s sweatpants and underwear in one go. He crouches down, glancing up at Taehyung briefly before he smirks to himself. “Just a little kiss.”

Taehyung lets Yoongi do as he pleases, watching with hungry eyes as Yoongi delicately takes Taehyung’s softened cock into his mouth. Yoongi tightens his lips lightly around it, pulling away slowly as he drags his tongue across the underside, relishing in the soft hum that Taehyung emits.

Yoongi pulls away, bringing back up the band of his husband’s sweatpants and underwear, and taps the slowly growing bulge as a farewell. “Okay, let’s eat.”

Taehyung groans, throwing an arm over his eyes because he is nothing if not dramatic. “No, you can’t do that to me.”

Yoongi laughs, sitting back on his heels. He watches Taehyung sigh and pull his dick from his sweats and boxers, almost mesmerized by how quickly it’s hardened. It’s almost like a hunger that he feels, taking in how Taehyung’s cock has deepened in color, a dark, beautiful purple-brown that makes Yoongi lick his lips. It’s torture, watching Taehyung wrap a hand around it and look almost pleading up at Yoongi.

“Just a kiss,” Taehyung says, and Yoongi has to laugh at hearing his words repeated to him.

“No,” he says, though he isn’t sure if he’s speaking moreso to himself or to his husband.

“Come on.” He pulls back more of the foreskin, and the head of Taehyung’s cock glistens. “Just a little one.”

Yoongi shakes his head, laughing.

“I won’t touch your head while you do it!” Taehyung puts his hands in the air.

He can’t say no to him, can he?

Yoongi crouches down again, smiling all the while, and takes Taehyung’s cock deeply into his mouth, relishing the velvety feel, running his tongue across the bottom. He gets satisfaction from the groan that leaves Taehyung’s lips, and Yoongi would be lying if he said it didn’t make him horny as well.

Yoongi pulls away, but, feeling generous, dips back down, letting the tip of Taehyung’s cock hit the back of his throat. He tightens his right hand into a fist, trying his best not to gag, and bobbing his head slowly once, twice, thrice, a fourth time for good luck before pulling away completely.

Taehyung’s voice is low, almost growling, when he says, “Fuck.”

Yoongi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before sitting back on his heels. “Let’s eat.”

He smiles at the sound of Taehyung’s groaning, loving that he’s left him wanting more.

They eat beautifully, until their bellies are full and Taehyung does that sigh he only does when he’s full and can’t fit any more food inside his mouth. Yoongi showers later, and they lay in bed together, watching some movie they won’t think about ever again. Taehyung asks Yoongi to suck his dick, but Yoongi says no, not when he’s eaten recently, and Taehyung only smiles as he pulls Yoongi closer to his chest, kissing his forehead sweetly.

“Have they told you?” Yoongi asks, peering up at his husband.

Taehyung looks down through his thick eyelashes, knowingly, and rubs a hand up and down Yoongi’s arm, smiling all the while. “Told me what?”

Yoongi hums softly, letting his eyes close with the gentle pull of sleep after a long day. “That I love you.”

“No, they haven’t.” Taehyung answers, “But I love you, too.”

Warmth blooms in Yoongi’s chest, and he knows he’s safe here. He knows he’s loved here. The rest doesn’t matter, not his fears, his anger, his anxiety, their home, their money, their jobs 𑁋 nothing else matters when he can come home to Taehyung.

Yoongi knows he isn’t perfect, and he knows that the ideas of love that he held growing up aren’t correct or healthy, but ever since meeting Taehyung, ever since falling in love with him, he’s felt himself change for the better, the same way that Taehyung has. He knows that there may be a long time before they’re where they want to be in life. They want a ranch, a car, a truck, a ranch, four children, a big kitchen, horses because that’s Taehyung’s dream, a little pond of ducks for Yoongi, and two dogs (a shih-tzu and a doberman). It’s not the life teenage Yoongi had envisioned, but, because of Taehyung, Yoongi has so much more love to give than he had anticipated in his bitter youth.

“You’re falling asleep?” Taehyung asks.

“I think so.”

Yoongi feels the blanket be pulled up higher, feels Taehyung’s skin grow warmer. How many nights did he fall asleep on video calls with Taehyung while he was in college, wishing only to be here?

“Goodnight, my love.”

Far too many, Yoongi thinks.

“Goodnight, baby.”

I love you more than I did yesterday.

[steamishot]

weekend

i'm definitely still feeling emotional about the move- possibly because i'm by myself a lot, and not very busy. it leads me to very tunneled thinking and rumination. on a side note, i tend to be more carefree in LA just because there's a lot more going on in life. i think it may take me a few weeks for the idea that i'm moving away and starting a new life back home to really sink in.

although i knew this move was coming and i was working so hard for it, i didn't expect to have such strong and mixed emotions once it became officially official. the easier thing for me to do is just cut ties immediately and quietly move away without saying bye to anyone. but staying here and mentally having a countdown is something i have to get used to. i'm dreading all the "farewell" hangouts with friends - all of us knowing it's the last time in (?) that we'll see each other. i'm not a fan of goodbyes. funnily enough, this is exactly the same amount of time (~3months) that i spent studying abroad in taipei. however, everyone came and left around the same time so it felt different. most of the friends i made in taipei went back to CA anyway. it was hardest to say bye to the friends i made who lived in other countries.

i met my new friend L at ceramics yesterday and today, and a part of me doesn't want to get closer to her (which is different from friends who i already consider close). i was never a person who could handle temporary/non-serious friends or relationships. usually if i'm continuously investing in something, it means i actively want the person in my life. she talked about september still being far away and that she wants to invite me to a concert and over to her place. part of me is like nuu, it's going to be even harder to say goodbye. but another part of me is like, well let's have fun while i'm still here. i'll likely see her at least 1x/week unless one of us is out of town, so we'll see where that goes.

ceramics: these 8 weeks of class flew by really quickly (plus i was out of town for a few sessions haha), there are only 3 more sessions of class! i finally put in my first piece to fire yesterday, and will need to wait about 2 weeks before i can glaze it. that means i need to throw more things asap so they can dry asap and then i can fire them asap to glaze asap.

i was feeling down about matt's work schedule this past week (a week of nights, 3-4 days off, then 10 days on (due to schedule switch/no PTO), 7 days off, and then another week of nights) because i've also been emotional/sensitive. i questioned if his new job would be as demanding and if his work schedule would bother me less over there. this would be our first time living together and having a routine in LA. logically, i can see our lives becoming much more balanced due to having family and community. i'm way more socially busy there too. also, having a car to get around would be really convenient - i know that we tend to get lazy leaving the house here bc of not wanting to walk or take the train somewhere. and the bigger living situation would be awesome.

the gods heard me because he was summoned and selected for jury duty yesterday! this is the most ballsy thing i've ever seen him do when it comes to work (guy has called out sick only once for the ER in these past 5 years). the trial he was selected for is for a duration of 4 weeks. this means that starting monday, he'll need to report to court M-F 9:30am-5pm for the next month. he gets to skip work (but still needs to work the weekends he was originally scheduled for). because the court is literally a 5 minute walk away, it'll be super convenient. i hate that his current hospital provides 0 PTO days for his role. i'm looking forward to this easy court time and his 1.5 months off in aug-sept.

work: i received an award for $5K! the last time i received it was in 2021 for $2K. i'm pretty sure they gave me this amount (which is the max) because i was technically doing ~1.5 roles for about half a year. in any case, i'm happy with the extra money.

friends: i feel like a loner here again. new friend L is actually leaving for washington for a month in a couple of weeks. T is away in vietnam. S is so busy with her life, that i can only manage to see her a couple times a month. LW is leaving NYC end of this month. R&T are in between dallas, LA and nyc so their schedule is complicated. i do miss having my parents and niece as my default buddies LOL. the next social thing i have is on tuesday, but i'm not looking forward to seeing A and i feel a bit sad about LW leaving.

[thelittleboyfromloveactually]

Surprise?

Benny Watts x reader

Promt: When Benny leaves for a work trip, you find yourself feeling sick. And after a trip to the doctors your relationship with Benny is tested, will the two of you continue and have a future together? Or will this “surprise” ruin you both forever?

Warnings: Cussing, throwing up, ANGST, fluff

authors note: Here it isss!!!! FINALLY! I’m so sorry for the delay! Also, ok so kinda off topic but i am going to write a series for an actor (actor masterlist), tell me who you guys want it to be for :) Enjoy the fic!

When you where 12 years old you fell in love with chess. You didn’t grow up rich so chess and reading books was your favorite way to pass the time. Chess was like a safe space for you, when your parents would fight, you would go into your room and play chess. You were amazing at it, you entered one tournament went you where 15 and you beat everyone there. But nothing much came of it, you couldn’t really afford to spend hours a day practicing and as you got older your life became more and more busy and complicated. When you were 14 years old your older brother died of a drug over dose and only 3 years later your mom died of stage 4 breast cancer. You and your dad weren’t close, infact once you where old enough to move out, you never really spoke to him again. He was a drunk and a abusive father. But now you were your own person, you were a reporter, a chess reporter.

On your first assignment you met Benny, Benny Watts. He was a charmer, he let you interview him and then the next day he caught you before you checked out of the hotel to ask to take you out sometime. That was 2 years ago. Now you lived with Benny, he wasn’t always the best boyfriend, but you knew he cared. Every once in a while he would buy you something nice or take you out to dinner. You often traveled with Benny to his tournaments, but lately you hadn’t been able too. You were up for a big promotion at work and you weren’t able to travel.

Currently Benny was sitting in the small living room playing a game of chess against himself. He didn’t know of your skill, and it didn’t bother you. Sometimes when he was away you would secretly play some games against yourself. Chess was Bennys thing, and you were ok with that. You were reading Emma by Jane Austen on the couch. It was one of your favorite novels. You flickered your eyes away from the pages to look at Benny, he was very focused on the game. You sighed, it was getting late and you still needed to start dinner.

“Hey Benny, what do you feel like for dinner? I’m kinda hungry” you said putting your book mark in and closing your book.

“Um I don’t care” he said blankly, not even looking away from the board

“Uh ok well how about som-“ you were cut off

“I said I didn’t care Y/N, you eat now I’ll snack on something later” he said firmly

You nodded not daring to say more. You stood up and started to chop some carrots when suddenly the phone rang.

“I’ll get it” you said drying your hands and walking over

“Hello?” You said

“Is this Benny Watts?” The man on the phone asked

“Um no this is his um, girlfriend, would you like me to get him for you?” You asked looking over at Benny

“Yes please, thank you” the man said

“Uh Benny it’s for you” he stood up and grabbed the phone from your hands, you went back to your cooking.

You didn’t really listen to the conversation they were having, probably some interview set up or something. You heard Benny put the phone down

“I have to get packing Y/N, I have to leave for a tournament tomorrow” he said headed toward his room

“Oh ok, do you need help?” You asked sweetly, you really wanted to ask why he found out so late but you didn’t want to bother him

“No” he said plainly, you nodded your head in response and continued on with your task at hand.

The next morning both you and Benny got up early, you wanted to say goodbye to him. You walked Benny to the door and handed him his bags. He kissed you on the cheek

“I’ll be back soon, love you” he said turning to the cab behind him

“Love you too, Benny” you smiled

He got in the cab and drove off.

The rest of your day was mostly just catching up on work. It was Sunday so you didn’t actually have to go in.

You were sitting at the small table in your living room when suddenly you felt the need to throw up. You stood up and threw your hand over your mouth as you quickly ran to the bathroom. You made it just in time to barf your guts out into the toilet. You were there for about 5 minutes, hovering over the toilet throwing up when finally your stomach settled down a little. You growned and stood up, tapping your arms around to stomach and dragging yourself into your bed. Of course you had to get sick when Benny was going to be gone for a week. You sighed and crawled under the covers. It was only 3 minutes before you were sound asleep.

You woke up around 3 in the morning with a sudden need to throw up AGAIN. You ran to the toilet. Jesus why was wrong with you, you had a great immune system and hardly ever got even a cold. As you lay on the bathroom floor you wouldn’t help but think about all the possibilities. Then you realized something. When was the last time you had gotten your period?! You stood up and went to your purse to grab your planner. 7 weeks ago was the last time you saw the red drop of blood that you had drawn to mark the start of your period. You were 3 weeks late. 3 fucking weeks late, how did could I not have noticed this?! You thought to yourself, you quickly went over to the phone and called your friend, praying she was home. As the phone wrang you tried to thing of the last time you had had sex with Benny. You had been so busy and Benny was traveling that it was probably a month ago! You cursed under your breath when she didn’t pick up. You dialed the number of your doctor and waited patiently. You tried to calm yourself down, you needed to make an appointment, then you would know for sure. Then you heard a voice from the other side of the line.

“Hello? Doctor Peterson’s office, how can I help you?” The lady asked

“Oh hi! I’m uh I need to make an appointment, preferably tomorrow, to see Dr. Peterson?” You asked passing back in forth

“We have an opening at 8:30am if you are willing to come then?” She asked

“YES! Yes of course thank you! I will be there!” You said excitedly, or you were nervous, you could exactly tell. You gave her your information and thanked her again. You hung up and started to diale bennys hotel number, but you stopped yourself. He’s probably busy, and I may not even be pregnant, you thought. You sighed and went to sit on the couch, but what if I am, you thought.

Shit. In your hand were your official results, saying that you were in fact pregnant.

“I have great news hun! You're 7 weeks pregnant! Congratulations!!!” Your OB/GYN said

“Uh t-thank you” you weren’t sure why she was so excited, it’s not like you wanted to be pregnant

“Who’s the father?” Geez personal much

“Uh my boyfriend, Benny” you said taking the paper she held out to you

“Well I hope you two the best” she smiled

You folded the paper and put it in your bag and started the car. The entire way home you brain was clouded by one single thought. How where you going to tell Benny. You loved him with all your heart but would he be able to handle this. He barely spends time with you as it is, and with a young child? You would practically raise it by yourself. After a short car ride you arrived at your small house. That was another problem, did you have room for a baby? Could you afford a baby?

After hours of debating and throwing up you decided not to tell Benny just yet. You wanted him to be here in person when you tell him. You were scared and angry. You decided that you would give Benny a choice. All or nothing. You needed to be sure that he still cared for you more than chess and himself. That he too would be a present parent to your child. And if not, then your mother had a guest room and welcoming arms.

Today was the day. The day Benny would be told he was going to be a father. You had cleaned the house so he could come home and not stress. Not that cleaning ever stressed him out. You sat on the couch anxiously awaiting his arrival. Were you nervous? Yes, very. As much dread as you held in you, you also couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity, of suspense. You loved Benny and would never want to leave him. But you had to do what was best for you, best for the baby.

You were taken out of your thoughts when the door opened, Benny stepping through it.

“Y/N? I’m home” he said, lucky for you he sounded pretty cheery. It was quite obvious he had won. By now it was almost a guarantee. He put his luggage down and looked around for you, and he smiled when he laid his eyes on you. “Hey” he said walking over to wrap his arms around you

“Hi Benny” you said smiling sweetly, he gave you a quick peck on the lips before letting go of you and heading to sit by his chess board. Of course.

“The guys almost beat me, I’m gonna run the game. He was smart but I was smarter.” Benny said taking off his coat

“I’m actually Benny, there is something I need to tell you” you said now fidgeting with you fingers

“Can it wait Y/N? This is really important” he said already replaying the game

You sighed, “actually it can’t wait Benny, what I have to tell you is really important” you said mimicking him

“Fine but make it quite ok? I’ve got games to go over and my coffee is wearing off” he said turning to you

You were getting angry at how rude he was suddenly, “do you love me?” You asked

Bennys eyes widened, surprised by your sudden question, “of course I love you Y/N” he said

“Well sometimes Benny….sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. You hardly touch me anymore. You never leave the chess board! You are so...so distant! Benny I love you so much! But I wish I could have that love in return. You love the game! I get it! I did once too! But the game doesn't love you! Sure maybe it favors you, but it’s a game Benny! A game! Not a person! Not a baby who needs attention! Don’t get me wrong I love seeing you pursue your dreams so much! It makes me so happy! But it doesn't seem like a dream anymore Benny, it seems like an addiction.” You paused trying to catch your breath and calm yourself down, Bennys face was still. “Benny I’m pregnant, with your kid. And I love you so much, but I can’t raise this kid by myself, it needs its dad to be there, I need its dad to be there. You need to choose Benny, no more halfway in, you're in or you're out. I need to do what’s going to be best for the baby, I hope you can too” you left it at that, heading toward the door and leaving the house. Leaving Benny. Not forever, but leaving him to think about all that you said.

Bennys POV

I stood there. I heard the door shut. What just happened? Did she say she was pregnant? Shit. I was confused to say the least. I never thought be being a great chess player bothered Y/N. Fuck what have I done? I can give up chess. But then again, I can’t give up Y/N. I guess maybe I’m not the best boyfriend, but I need her. She keeps me as close to sane as I can be. I don’t know what I would do without her. I plopped down on the couch and ran my fingers through my hair. I messed up. I should have been there. I know it should have. Dammit. As much as I hate it Y/N was right. Of course she was, she always is. I love chess but I am addicted to winning. And that makes me distant and rude. Fuuuuuck. I grabbed my hat and ran toward the door. I knew where Y/N was going. She always went there when we fought. She was going to where I took her on our first date.

Normal POV

The string lights shone above your head as you walked through the park. Your cheeks were wet from tears. You loved the park at night. It was so….peaceful. The lights allowed you to still see the gorgeous garden flowers that were planted everywhere. The first time you ever kissed Benny was here, in this park. You had gone to this park for a picnic. He had set up flowers, treats and surprisingly very good food that Benny supposedly made. You ate and talked for hours until it got dark. After you put the food away you took a stroll in the park which ended at a bench, the beach under the cherry tree. It bloomed every spring and it was gorgeous. The two of you had sat down on the bench, Benny grabbed your hand and smiled at you, and two seconds later, your lips were connected. Moving in perfect sync. That was then. Now you sat on the bench crying, hoping that Benny would choose to be a dad for your child.

You sat on that bench for 10 minutes, contemplating your life desisions when suddenly you heard foot steps behind you. You turned your head slightly to see Benny walking over, holding his hat in his hand.

You sighed in relief, but then to be out in stress avian when you realized he could be here to say goodbye.

“I’m sorry” he said moving to sit next to you

You tried not to look at him, you avoided eye contact.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N” he said “I-I know I have been distracted and distant and rude and I am sorry. I love you, all of you, including this baby. It’s gonna take time ok? But your gotta let me try, I will make every thing right. I will ok? I promise. I love you Y/N, forever. When you left i realized how much I need you, I don’t think I can live without you. Your my home, my rock, my best friend and the love of my life. I know It doesn’t always seem like that but you are. I’m it good with love and stuff so give me some time to figure it out. But I will be here, I will help you raise this kid…..our kid. I’m all in, forever” he said putting his hand on top of mine. I looked up at him finally, and he turned his head to look at me. And then we kissed, just like our first kiss, but more needy, more passionate, full of love, guilt, and want.

“I love you too Benny” I said smiling

We both let out a laugh and our lips connected again.

4 years later

“Daddy daddy look! I drew your chess board!!! And I can name all the pieces!” Hudson said

“That’s amazing buddy! Show me your skills!” Benny said as Hudson sat on his lap

“That’s a rook, that’s a knight, that’s a bishop, that’s a queen, and then the king, and then the bishop, knight and rook again!” He said pointing to each one

“Great job!!! Soon you're going to be a grandmaster!” Benny said kissing his forehead

You smiled as you watched your son, Hudson chess Watts, yes Benny decided on Chess as his middle name, and your husband smile and play together. You found it incredibly adorable that Benny was already teaching Hudson to play chess. Sometimes you even played. Benny looked up at you and smiled, you smiled back. Benny came around in the end, and is the best husband and father to Hudson that you could have asked for. You were happy with your life. So freaking happy. You had your boys. Who knew that such and unwanted surprise could bring such needed happiness.

[lsvdw-blog]

Not a Minute More: Part 5

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings; Rating: Severe bodily injury, Mentions of blood, Angst; Mature, 18+

Premise: Everyone is in the fight to save lives and they finally find out what happened to Serena.

Author’s Note: This is very heavy - I apologize in advance 😭 Thank you to my girl @choiceskatie for pre-reading 😘 I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 3:00pm ~

The explosion at Harvard labs reverberated throughout the campus and the surrounding suburb. The ER is swamped, an all hands on deck situation. Ambulance after ambulance arrives, wheeling in more patients before departing. Doctors and nurses are being pulled every which way, trying to help as many patients as promptly as possible. But they’re quickly becoming overwhelmed. Empty boxes of sterile gloves line the walls, medical equipment wrappers scatter the floor. They can barely hear each others’ shouts over the cries and less severe injuries are left unattended as the dire patients are intubated, defibrillated, or ushered off to an OR.

Ethan, Naveen, and Serena’s friends are on the ER floor, moving as quickly as they can, doing as much as they can, hoping their training and expertise is enough. But every time someone enters the hospital, they can’t help but pause for a beat and stare, hoping it’s her.

~ 4:00pm ~

Patients are referred to by their room number, blurring together. Everyone is exhausted, limbs heavy, grabbing yet another cup of coffee to keep going.

“Incoming!” A handful of nurses and doctors leave their stable patients and rush to the entrance, receiving the new bout of admittees.

“What’ve we got?”

“Two individuals, one male, one female, recovered just outside one of the classified Harvard labs. They’re unconscious, but stable. We didn’t see any obvious injuries, but that doesn’t rule out anything internal. The site of the explosion just cleared enough for us to work our way there,” one of the EMTs respond.

Ethan’s ears perk up at this new piece of information, but before he can corner the EMT, there’s another shout.

“We need an OR room stat!!!” Everyone turns towards the automatic doors at the familiar voice.

Rapidly pushing the side of a stretcher, is Rafael, his face ashen.*

Reclined on the stretcher, is Serena.

Ethan feels his world stop, the noise and hurried movements of the ER fading to black as his eyes trail over her. She’s covered in blood, drifting in and out of consciousness, and breathing through an oxygen mask. There’s several visible gashes on her head and body, but the most alarming thing is the large piece of metal protruding from the side of her abdomen.

She slowly turns her head towards him, as if she can sense his presence nearby.

As they lock eyes, he regains his senses, and rushes to her side.

While the paramedics continue to push the stretcher, he reaches for her hand and clutches it over his heart. "Baby, can you hear me?!"

She blinks groggily at him, acknowledging his words.

"H—," she swallows. "...Hurts," she manages to squeak out.

He nods continuously, his other hand reaching up to brush her blood-matted hair away from her face. "I know, baby, I know. Help is on the way. Until then, I need you to stay awake, okay?" He lifts her hand and kisses it. "Look at me, focus on me, and stay here with me," he urges. He relaxes a fraction of an inch when he feels her lightly squeeze his hand.

"Dr. Ramsey, I need you to step back!"

He shakes his head furiously. "I'm scrubbing in."

"The hell you are! We both know you can't be in there." Harper watches him closely. He's hunched over the stretcher, keeping pace, knuckles white from gripping Serena’s hand, eyes never leaving her face.

Harper sighs and her voice softens just a touch. "Let me do my job."**

He knows Harper is right, but Serena’s eyes are searching his and the thought of leaving her side makes him sick.

"E…"

"I'm here, I'm right here," he responds, tapping their entwined hands over his heart, hoping she can feel the heart that beats for her.

"I lo—," she lets out a breath and her eyes close.

"Rookie?" Her head lolls to the side.

"SERENA!!" He squeezes her hand multiple times, but her hand remains limp in his grasp.

As they push through the doors to the OR, her hand is ripped away from his. He reaches for her, but is stopped by Naveen and a few security guards he called for backup.

"LET ME THROUGH!! SERENA!!!" His voice cracks over her name. He continues to fight, leaving the security guards no choice but to drag him back towards the ER entrance.

Naveen stands in front of him. "ETHAN! You're not in the right state to be in the OR! Serena needs you to trust in Harper and her team. She needs you to be here when she wakes up! And you can't do that if I have to lock you down!"

Naveen takes in the man before him. Ethan's normally perfectly coiffed hair is in disarray, strands falling in his eyes. Cheeks flushed from the effort of screaming and battling the guards' hold. Hands and clothes covered in blood. Serena’s blood.

Naveen's heart plummets at the realization and it aches for the man he's come to consider a son.

Ethan stares down Naveen, chest heaving. After a few seconds, he gives a curt nod. Naveen waves his hand and the guards let go.

As soon as Ethan has range of motion, he walks to the nearest wall, and punches it. He walks away in a huff, leaving a room full of stunned individuals, and a gaping hole in the wall.

~ 8:45pm ~

Ethan sits with his head hung low in the waiting room, elbows resting on his bouncing knees, hands clenched together. Different people have come through, taking turns checking on him. He only mumbles or moves his head in response. The assortment of food and drinks brought to him remain untouched. He refuses to go home, sleep, or even change out of his bloodied clothes. Each time there's slight movement in the direction of the OR entry, he immediately turns towards it, only to be disappointed.

Naveen has been watching from afar, waiting to take his turn. He meanders over, silently taking a seat next to Ethan. He leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his stomach. He sits calmly, patiently.

After ten minutes, Ethan lets out a shaky breath.

"She needed me," he whispers, barely loud enough to be heard.

Naveen remains quiet, waiting for Ethan to continue.

“She left me a voicemail… said she was scared, that she wanted to hear my voice. I’m supposed to be her protector, but I didn't even pick up the phone.” He buries his head in his hands.

Naveen leans forward, gently placing a hand on Ethan's shoulder.

"My boy. You couldn't possibly have known what was going to transpire today. You can't hold yourself responsible. Don't think I haven't seen the way you look at her, treat her. How you're always standing slightly behind her, a pillar of support during patient interactions, ready to step in if need be. How you consistently have a gentle hand on her, guiding her through the busy corridors. How you wait to leave together so she doesn't have to take the T,*** despite the fact that your shift ended hours earlier. You do protect her, every single day."

"But when she needed me most!” He shakes his head. “I wasn't there. I failed her. Miserably.” He runs his hands through his hair.

"She is everything to me, Naveen, everything. She's shown me what it means to be loved unconditionally, that vulnerability isn't a weakness. I no longer see the world in strictly black and white, or even in shades of grey. I see hues of red, purple, green, the whole damn rainbow, all because of her. She's made me a better mentor and doctor, a better son, a better man. I can’t even imagine where, or who, I’d be now without her. I wasted so much time running from my feelings, when committing to her has been the best decision I've ever made.”

He takes a steadying breath.

"She's the love of my life and now… not only may I never get the chance to tell her, but I also may never get to see our future together," his voice cracks and tears stream down his face.

He swivels his head slowly to face Naveen. "I can't lose her. I just can't."

Naveen nods solemnly. "I’m worried too; I don’t want to lose her either. One of the best surgeons in the country is leading her case. You know Harper and her team will do everything they can and we know Serena is one hell of a fighter. She has to be, to have gotten past your walls and to deal with you on a daily basis,” he teases.

It does the trick, as Ethan chuckles through his tears, nodding in agreement.

“She really is something, isn’t she?”

“She really is,” Naveen responds with a twinkle in his eyes. “And that’s another reason why I have faith. She's a warrior, having fought so long for you, for your relationship, and she knows you’re out here, waiting for her, waiting to be reunited and happy together. She wouldn’t give up now.”

Naveen locks eyes with his protégé.

“The two of you? The story is far from over. I know that in my soul.”

Ethan holds Naveen’s determined gaze, drawing strength from it, and sits up a little straighter.

“Thank you, Naveen. It means more than you know. And… I’ll take care of the hole in the wall,” Ethan grimaces.

“Don’t worry about it, my boy. I’m just relieved you didn’t do more damage,” he laughs. “And if we’re being completely honest, I’d be more shocked if you hadn’t punched a wall.”

Naveen gives Ethan a wink before he stands and walks back towards his office, leaving Ethan shaking his head in amusement, feeling a bit lighter and more hopeful.

~ Tuesday, 1:30am; 1 Day Since Attack ~

Ethan had finally dozed off, albeit uncomfortably, in a waiting room chair, when he felt a petite hand gently shaking him awake. He lifted his head and opened his eyes, coming face-to-face with Harper. He bolts up.

“Where is she? How is she?” Ethan’s eyes are frantic, searching Harper’s face for any sign of information.

She remains silent for a few beats.

“She’s currently being moved to the ICU.”

“She’s alive?”

Harper nods. “She’s alive.”

Before Ethan can breathe a sigh of relief, Harper continues.

“But Ethan… it was really bad. The piece of metal in her body was larger than we thought. It spanned from her kidney to her lungs. It was only two centimeters away from puncturing her heart. Additionally, it was so embedded within her body that every time she took a breath, it dug itself deeper. This isn’t even mentioning the bits of shrapnel she had in other places.”

She squares her shoulders, bracing herself for what she’s about to tell her friend.

“At one point during the surgery, she flatlined.”

Ethan gasps and his eyes widen.

“For a very short, and scary, moment, she was gone.”

Harper’s words hit Ethan like a semi-truck and he has to sit back down to try and calm his thundering heartbeat. Harper crouches down in front of him, eyes softening.

“But we were able to bring her back and I strongly believe that the brief lack of oxygen will not have any lasting effects.”

“However, she has been through a lot in the past twelve hours,” she gently places her hand on his shoulder. “She’s still in a coma and we cannot say for certain if she’ll wake back up.”

Ethan tightly shuts his eyes and balls his hands into fists.

“I assure you, Ethan, that we did everything we could. But now, it’s up to her, and her body, to decide if she wants to rejoin us.”

A tear slips down Ethan’s face.

“Can I see her?” His words come out soft, broken.

“No visitors until she makes it through the night. But, you can see her through the window.”

Ethan is unmoving, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Harper stands. “Come on,” she tilts her head slightly. “Let’s take a walk.”

Ethan follows suit and they make their way through the waiting room, side by side.

~ 2:00 am ~

Before Ethan knows it, they’re in the ICU, Harper having coyly led him in that direction. She comes to a stop in front of a room.

“This is her. If you need anything at all, you know where to find me.”

Ethan stops her as she begins to turn away, looking at her earnestly.

“Thank you for saving her, Harper. It means…,” he sighs. “Everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she responds, eyes fixed on Serena through the window.

Ethan gives a weak nod.

“She’s a stubborn one. I have a feeling she isn’t done with us yet.”

She turns and walks down the hall a ways, before glancing back. Ethan has one hand on the glass, watching Serena wistfully. She hopes that doing everything she could was enough.

~~~~~~

Disclaimers:

*I kept Rafael as an EMT because I wanted to include as much of the crew as possible and having a friend wheel Serena in adds to the angst deliciousness.

**I know Harper is a neurosurgeon, but I wanted to include her badass self and a bit of her platonic friendship with Ethan. So slight Harper AU!

***The “T” is what the locals in Boston call the subway.

[startledstars]

I got covid lol

(and I’m unvaccinated)

here’s how it went:

the initial onset was sudden and rapid. I was at my family’s house the day after Christmas. At around 8pm (?) my back started to hurt. I drove home to lay down.

you know that feeling you get right before you fall ill? For me, it manifests as a certain type of warm, neutral smell. Like the kind you get right before you sneeze, but more lingering.

I got that pre-sick feeling, so I ordered DayQuil, NyQuil, and food to be delivered in the morning. I also took vitamin C, NAC, and Zinc.

About half an hour later (9-9:30pm?) I laid down as the fever set in.

That first night was rough. Headache, body pains, fever, and no medicine to take the edge off. I couldn’t sleep, so I listened to the Bible while praying pretty much the whole time.

I was still awake when the NyQuil was delivered at ~9:30am the next day.

I drank like, a lot of NyQuil that morning (because I needed to sleep.) I also took lots of vitamin C and NAC again. Due to a total loss of appetite, I drank smoothies instead of eating.

Sleep didn’t come easy that day or night. However, I could breathe just fine and barely coughed at all. The worst part was the lower back pain.

By the following morning, the worst was over.

I had the flu in 2019. It incapacitated me for three days. Covid was about 50% as bad as that flu. Comparatively much more manageable.

On New Year’s Eve (4-5 days after initial symptoms) I had a moment where I smelled a few things that weren’t actually there. Scents without a logical source one after the other over the span of a few seconds. As it happened, I realized that I’d be losing my sense of smell.

Less than an hour later, that’s exactly what happened. I drank coke, but it was like lightly sweetened carbonated water (as opposed to the syrupy caramel smell/taste I expected.) I ate a slice of pizza and could appreciate the texture of the meat, vegetables, cheese, and bread, but the taste was muted.

Even now, almost 10 days after the initial onset of symptoms and 5 days after losing smell/taste, drinking black coffee is almost like drinking water. Also, I can’t smell check my clothes to decide what needs to be washed; everything goes in the laundry now, even if I tried it on once and tossed it aside.

My appetite is almost non existent. I eat maybe half a chipotle bowl’s worth of food along with a small bowl of Cheerios. It’s hard to eat more than a few bites at a time.

I’m also exhausted. My limbs feel heavy. Small tasks like putting away water bottles leave me out of breath. On top of that, the insomnia is persisting. I can’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time despite being tired.

I used to have bad chronic fatigue a few years ago along with severe depression. Going downstairs to get a bowl of cereal once a day was my limit. I still struggle with these issues, but not nearly as much. Fatigue due to Covid is, comparably, much more manageable.

The good news is that every day, I feel a little better. I have a little more energy. I can sleep better and get stuff done. In a week or two, I should be back to 100% 😁

To summarize my personal experience:

Covid has sudden, rapid onset

The first day and a half are the worst

Early symptoms: fever, body ache, headache, eye pain. Like the flu but not as bad.

Late/lingering symptoms: loss of smell, muted sense of taste, fatigue

Supplements like NAC, vitamin C and zinc might help. They may explain my rapid initial recovery and relatively mild symptoms. I’ve been taking NAC for years; it is a supplement that boosts lung health and a healthy immune system. This may be why I had no issues with coughing/breathing.

Seriously, the flu was so much worse 😅

So again, from my personal experience as an unvaccinated person, Covid seems as dangerous as, or less dangerous than, the seasonal flu. This disease definitely exists. It is highly contagious.

But it poses a risk to the same sub population that would also be at risk from the flu, which has been around for years. I can see why the elderly or immunocompromised might be concerned about Covid, the same way they may be concerned about the flu.

I can not see why this is an illness that requires a “new normal” in the form of perpetual forced mark wearing, social distancing, and totalitarian government control.

Also, both my parents are fully vaccinated. They both got sick too, and their symptoms were just as bad as mine. I know at least three other fully vaccinated family friends who got sick.

So, threatening people with unemployment unless they take an ineffective experimental mRNA altering drug with unknown long term effects makes even less sense now than it did a few months ago.

Diseases like the flu evolve to be more contagious and less deadly each year. The Spanish flu, which killed 25-50 million, evolved into one of the strains of seasonal flu, which has a significantly lower death rate. The same thing may be happening with Covid. It wasn’t that deadly in 2020. It became even less deadly by the end of 2021. If the pattern continues, in 2022, there will be even less of a logical reason for all these mandates and restrictions.

But I have a feeling all this will continue. Two weeks to slow the spread turned into two years of tyranny with no end in sight. Especially on this website, I can’t shake the feeling that people want to lose their freedoms because they don’t want to be held responsible for their own lives. They want to be perceived as moral, heroic even, without actually standing up for anything. The mask and vax propaganda allows them to do just that. People want the simplicity that the pandemic narrative offers: you’re a good person if you wear a mask, take the jab, and don’t question the government. You’re a bad person if you don’t ‘do your part.’

People as a collective look for a reason to feel good about themselves while simultaneously searching for scapegoats to project negativity on. People can recognize this tendency in themselves, realize it makes them easy to manipulate, and adapt a more nuanced perspective of themselves and their fellow man.

But they usually don’t do this; it’s too much work.

This is incredibly cynical and I wish, I wish someone would prove me wrong. But it was never about saving lives, and most people know that on some level. They just don’t care, because they’re getting exactly what they want.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 11

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

From: fmulder@fbi.gov

Sent: May 2, 1997 8:06am

To: dscully@fbi.gov

Subject: Back in action?

Hey Scully,

You make it in okay today? How are you feeling?

Thanks for letting me hang out with you yesterday, even after I broke into your apartment and crawled into your bed. I hadn’t seen the Price is Right since the eighties so that was a real treat. I remain impressed by your ability to guess the cost of a dishwasher.

From: dscully@fbi.gov

Sent: May 2, 1997 9:15am

To: fmulder@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:Back in action?

Hi,

Yep, I’m here and operating at roughly 95% capacity, which is good considering that a fairly advanced decomp was first on the roster this morning. It’s quite a way to start your day, let me tell you.

Thanks again for coming to my rescue, though I remain embarrassed by whatever I may have said or done while under the influence of fever.

If you liked watching The Price is Right with me, just wait until we catch Jeopardy. If me sick and delirious didn’t scare you off, that surely will.

From:dscully@fbi.gov

Sent: May 2, 1997 9:30am

To: mreyes@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:RE: Coffee?

Hi Monica,

Sorry I missed your email, I’ve been out sick the last couple days. I started feeling unwell shortly after we had coffee on Tuesday so I hope I didn’t inadvertently pass it to you.

I’d love to grab coffee again, perhaps next week? I’ll touch base on Monday, have a good weekend.

Dana

From: fmulder@fbi.gov

Sent: May 2, 1997 10:01am

To:dscully@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:RE: Back in action?

I’m glad to hear you’re on the upswing. Does this mean you’d be available for a night out tomorrow?

I would actually very much like to watch Jeopardy with you, because I will definitely leave you in the dust.

From: dscully@fbi.gov

Sent: May 2, 1997 2:26pm

To: fmulder@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:RE:RE: Back in action?

I think I’ll be game for a night out. Are you going to tell me what you have in mind? At the very least you have to tell me what to wear.

Challenge accepted, Mulder. I hope you’re not a sore loser.

From: mreyes@fbi.gov

Sent: May 2, 1997 3:50pm

To: dscully@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:RE:RE: Coffee?

Hi Dana,

I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been sick. I feel fine, so don’t worry about that.

Next week sounds perfect, I’ll watch for your email.

Take care,

Monica

From: fmulder@fbi.gov

Sent: May 2, 1997 4:17pm

To: dscully@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:Back in action?

Wear something comfortable that you can walk around in. Can I pick you up at 6? The rest will be a surprise.

I think we both know that the categories will heavily influence who emerges victorious from Jeopardy. If anatomy and physiology is on the board, I concede that you will kick my ass. But if someone goes rogue and puts cryptids up there,watch out.

From: dscully@fbi.gov

Sent: May 2, 1997 5:32pm

To: fmulder@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:Back in action?

See you at 6.

If “cryptids” makes its way onto the Jeopardy board, it may well be a sign of the end times.

[fatgummybear]

Hii idk if you’ve watched your name and listened to nandemonaiya but could I get j a really soft bakugou x reader where it’s like they’re in a moment that’s super loving on the rooftop and yea just listening to that song makes me feel that way :)) thank youuu

Nandemonaiya- A Bakugou x reader drabble/fic

im so sorry this is so late, i feel like i’ve had a million and one things to do and life got on top of me for a minute there! I’m still yet to watch Your Name, though i did listen to the song and wOW IM SOFT T-T it reminded me of watching a sunrise being all cozy in the fresh air with pretty flowers and im going to shut up and actually write this now:D It’s a bit dingy and dark at the beginning i do apologise, but the fluff comes in>.< 

wordcount: 1253

genderneutral language for reader and quirk unspecified:)! Oh- warning for language, we are talking about Bakugou here!          (◠﹏◠✿)

Everyone has a different definition of perfect, some may not even believe in perfection, but this morning could change the mind of the non-believer. Soft sighs, white breaths and warm bodies sat under a periwinkle sky and cotton candy clouds. It was an early summer morning, around 5:30am. That doesn’t explain how you got here though, so let me start from the beginning.

Training had been rough, though there had yet to be a major incident in your second year. That didn’t change the fact that you were exhausted. Everyone was. Self defense and emergency procedure training had been increased tenfold since the many events of year 1. The physical and mental stress of lessons on top of homework and never ending nightmares had... less than pleasant side effects, insomnia being one of them. Nights where you couldn’t get to sleep became more frequent, nights where you could actually sleep were short lived; ended with you waking up in the very first hours of the morning, even beating the early bird by a good couple of hours. Tonight had been one of those nights, sleep disturbed by your own restless thoughts, tossing and turning to the point where the four surrounding walls seemed to mock you and your effort to sleep. The rain that had been pouring overhead steadily came to a halt. Turning once more to face your nightstand, you checked the clock. 3:48am. Exhaling something between a sigh and an annoyed huff, you threw the sheets to the foot of the bed and sat upright, trailing your hands down your face and neck in a new quest to at least feel more awake if you couldn’t shut your eyes.

A shower was out of the question at this time of day, you at least knew that. While the chances of others being awake too were unfortunately high, there was no sense to be made in ruining someone else’s sleep to benefit yourself for a measly half hour. The sink would have to make do. Dragging yourself out of bed and down the hall you quickly reached the bathroom and threw water over your eyes, somehow colder than usual from not being in use and the night air’s influence over the pipes. Standing in front of the mirror, now somewhat more alert, you assessed your current situation and what you could do to pass some time. It was now 4:02, a dark Saturday morning which was arguably better than a weekday. There were no commitments today, no classes, no homework that couldn’t be done tomorrow, no rules saying you couldn’t nap through the afternoon when you finally tire yourself out. However, there wasn’t much to do inside at this time of day, and you weren’t about to knock on doors to see how many were suffering the same fate as you. It wasn’t all bad, though. Your boyfriend, Bakugou would be up within the next hour or two to go on his morning run through campus, always claiming how it would make him better than “shitty Deku” if he got out earlier than him. 

While walking back to your room, you decided to instead take the ‘secret passageway’ up onto the roof of the dorms that you and the ‘Bakusquad’ had stumbled across one night. It was really just a service entrance, holding a small cleaners room next to the stairs, but no one else had braved opening the unknown door, so why ruin the magic for you and your friends, that was where you all frequently hung out when the weather allowed it, sharing silly stories filled with laughter and plotting your next mischievous pranks. The rain was long gone you realised after opening the door, though the scent still lingered and the silence almost created a gentle hum in your ears, coaxing you to walk out further and sit on the still damp concrete. The time was now unknown, having left your phone in your room and the obvious lack of clocks occupying the rooftop. It couldn’t be too far off sunrise, though, as the sky had started to change colour from a blinding darkness into the soft pinks and yellows that came with dawn.

The next hour or so went by fairly quietly, the sounds of the surrounding wildlife adding to the peace. It was still relatively early for people to be up and about, especially for a Saturday morning. You were expecting to hear the teachers get up soon though, to conduct their daily patrols around campus and make sure their home class are all present and okay. However, what you weren’t expecting was to hear the gentle click of a door beneath you opening and the soft tapping of shoes on the concrete stairs. Startled, you turned, expecting a lecture off of Aizawa-sensei or a cleaner for lurking where you shouldn’t be, and at such an early hour too. Braving yourself to look up, you found yourself looking into familiar crimson eyes instead.

“Tch, figures you’d be up here at a time like this”.

You could only stare up at him, shocked at the amount of time that had clearly passed. Katsuki was up and ready for the day. He still had messy hair, but he was in a loose pair of sweats and a fitted shirt, clearly ready to go for his routine jog. 

“You just gonna sit and stare? Get your loopy ass in before you catch a cold, or has sitting on the wet floor for god knows how long already got to you?”

“Nah, ‘m comfy”

This sent Katsuki into some state of confusion, staring at you as if you had grown a second head. How on earth could you be comfy on the wet floor at this time in only a pair of pyjamas? Wordlessly, he sunk down to a crouch before looking you in the eyes, rolling his and plopping down next to you. 

“If I get sick it’s on you, now get comfier. I’m not sparring you on Monday if your stupid ass can’t get enough sleep to even talk properly”. 

You smiled while tucking your head into his clavicle, knowing he was just trying to keep up his bad-boy image. Yes, he was a lot softer around you, being able to rest yourself on him like this was enough to show that, but Bakugou was Bakugou and he would always have some roughness to him. You knew it was highly unlikely for him to actually get sick just from sitting on the damp concrete, his body temperature ran way too high for that. 

This is how the two of you stayed for the next half hour or so, curled together on the rooftop hiding from the world, silently watching the sky turn from light pink to a pale yellow before erupting in fiery oranges and then watching an ocean of tranquil blues dull the embers as the sun rose higher. You were expecting to get tired at some point, possibly going to rest in Katsuki’s bed when he decided to actually go for his run, though you felt the ropes of sleep pull your eyelids shut right there on top of the roof of the 1A dorms. Katsuki looked down and couldn’t manage to stop himself from smiling at you dozing off under his chin. 

A soft “I love you, firecracker” rumbled from his throat. “Hm, what was that?” you replied in a sleepy haze, eyes glossed over as you snuggled further into his chest.

“Don’t worry about it”