#ill check back in again in either 10 years or when it's finished | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

watermelonlovershigh · 3 years ago

Text

You Get Sick in the Back of an Uber

AN: so this was a story i have had in my drafts for like three months and just never found motivation to finish it. i decided to finish this first out of my drafts because it was one of the ones that had the most already written for it. unlike some of my others that don't have much written yet. and this was supposed to be longer but i got lazy and ended the end with no dialogue and shorted the story. but i guess that's fine because the main part of this was the uber incident and not necessary the aftercare. (i just love to always include aftercare whether its with sex or getting sick. unless its a blurb) @harryhoney-bee suggested number 1. on my voting post so thank you for requesting i finish this one shot idea that was in my drafts.

This story contains: puke, drunken person, caring husband

{ husband!harry - dad!harry - Grammys 2021 Harry - 4 kids (any age you imagine) }

word count: 1765

When you drink too much at the Grammys, you end up having to get sick in the uber ride home and Harry cares for you.

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

Back Story-

After the Grammys, Harry and I decided to go to the little after party that was being held for the Grammy attendees. We knew we couldn't stay too long because we had to get back home to our kids. They were currently with our babysitter but she couldn't stay all night. She has to go home at some point. So we made sure to watch the time.

At the afterparty, drinks were flowing. I haven't drank in a while due to the fact I had been pregnant not too long ago. This was the first night I was allowed to drink and I decided to do just that. Harry was aware of me drinking and promised to watch and take care of me. Though we were at this afterparty for him, he wanted me to let loose and have some fun as well.

But what he wasn't expecting was for me to drink the amount I did. I didn't mean to go over board. It just kind of happened. People handing out drinks left and right and next thing I knew, I was drunk. Not tipsy, drunk. When Harry noticed how drunk I was, he decided it's best to go home.

And because Harry also had drank some alcohol, he wasn't in a state to drive either. By no means was he as drunk as me though. Maybe just tipsy but he didn't want to risk it. So he decided to call an uber for us.

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

Current-

We're sitting in the back of the uber on our way home. It's about an hour drive since the city is crowded with traffic due to the Grammys. Right about now is when I regret drinking any alcohol tonight. Because I haven't drank in over a year, my body isn't use to the poison running through my veins. So you could say I'm a lightweight now. My head is throbbing. My vision is blurry. My stomach is turning. Lets just say I regret all my decisions tonight that lead to me feeling this way.

"Harrrrry I don't feel good." I manage to slur out.

"You probably should have stuck to champagne instead of vodka my love." Harry responds, while stroking my hair out of my face in a gentle manner.

Another 10 minutes pass and I'm feeling very nauseous. I'm trying to focus on my breathing but it's not working.

"Harry my stomach hurts." I whisper with hooded eyes.

"Like you're gonna be sick?" Harry questions with panic.

I nod my head and hear Harry asking the driver if he can pull over.

"Can you pull over? My wife is feeling ill." Harry frantically questions the uber driver up front.

"I'm sorry sir but this freeway is packed and there is no way I can get to the side of the road right now." the driver says with a bit of an attitude.

Hearing that made me and Harry both start to panic.

"Well do you have any sick bags in here?" my husband asks.

"Sorry I don't." the driver retorts in a uncaring tone. What kind of uber driver doesn't carry sick bags for when drunks potentially need a ride but feel like they are going to be sick?

I just barley hear Harry let out a frustrated sigh and turn to me.

"Try and relax love. Take deep breaths for me, alright." Harry whispers while rubbing my back as I'm slumped over his body, too disoriented to even hold my head up.

About 3 minutes later, I feel vomit rise up my throat. There isn't much I can to do. The driver already said he couldn't pull over, nor does he have sick bags. I sit up from my slouched position and clasp a hand over my mouth. My legs are bouncing up and down. I'm trying desperately not to puke but I'm doing a poor job. Harry is sitting up with me, trying to comfort me but his words are all a blur at this point.

"If you have to be sick darling, let it out. I'll pay to get this uber cleaned, okay." Harry states in my ear. I know he'd rather not have me puke on the floor of the uber, right beside him, but he can tell I'm struggling and in discomfort.

Hearing those words was all the conformation I needed. I remove my hand from my mouth and let out a gush of alcoholic bile spew from my mouth and onto the backseat floor board. Harry gathers my hair in his hands so it's not in my face. My vomit splatters all over my legs and on the bottom of Harry's Gucci suit. I'd feel terrible about that if I wasn't so out of it, but my mind is a mushed up blur.

"Shhh, that's it. You're alright." Harry reassures me. The uber driver lets out a sigh of disgust, but this is truly his fault that I'm throwing up in his uber right now anyways.

Heave after heave, I let out more of the alcohol that was poisoning my system, right onto the floor. It's not a pretty sight. I'm having a cold sweat and my body is trembling. Though Harry has a weak stomach, when it comes to his wife (me) or his kids, he can always handle a bit of throw up. Or a lot like currently. It's like a fatherly/husband instinct that comes over him and he feels only adrenaline, not yuck.

Finally I feel my stomach relax and I sit up, breathing heavy with vomit dripping down my chin. Without thinking, I wipe it off with the back of my hand and smear it on my already ruined dress. "Feeling better?" Harry asks in a low tone.

"Mhmm." I hum, not really feeling like talking. My drunken brain has cleared up some from the majority of the alcohol being out of my system, but I still feel the after affects drinking brings. I just lean my head on Harry's shoulder for the rest of the ride home and allow the cool breeze to blow on my face. The uber driver did us all a favor by rolling the windows down so we didn't suffocate on the nasty smell of my sick.

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

After-

When we arrived home, Harry payed the uber driver, not giving much of a tip and told him that he'd have someone clean his car out in the morning. As well as a half assed apology for my incident beings it could have been prevented. Then carefully, Harry lifted me out the uber and carried me into our Los Angeles home. Good thing our kids were all asleep because they shouldn't have to see their mother like this. Covered in puke and half drunk.

Harry took me to our bathroom and quickly ran down stairs to pay our babysitter, hoping she didn't question my appearance when she saw my state as we came through the front door. She didn't thankfully and left soon after her check was handed to her. Harry came back up to where he left me and helped me clean up and get ready for bed.

He stripped us of our vomit covered clothes and helped me into the big walk-in shower we have in our master bathroom. Then after he delicately washed our bodies along with my hair, he helped us out and dried us off. We brushed our teeth, me with the help of my husband because I was still a bit dizzy. After we're clean of sick and smelt fresh, he helped me put some panties and a t-shirt over my nude body and boxers on himself; just incase our kids woke up and needed us for whatever reason.

Harry helped me into our large bed and tucked me in, bending down to kiss my forehead. Then he walked down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and a bucket incase I needed to be sick again at some point through-out the rest of the early morning. When he had all the items he intended to grab, Harry came back to our bedroom where I was already passed out with sleep.

So he just set the water on my night stand and the bucket on the floor, beside my side of the bed. Then Harry quietly exited our room and went to each of our child's bedrooms to make sure they were fine and still asleep like they should be, which they thankfully were.

When everything was done and taken care of, Harry turned the bedroom lights out and slipped in the covers with me. He helped my body scoot over and I cuddled into his warm body. I didn't realize it in my state of sleep but I knew when I awoke, I'll be thinking about how grateful I am to have a wonderful husband like Harry.

He takes such good care of me. He didn't get upset that I drank too much on his special night and accidently got wasted. He never once got upset that I basically got throw up on his expensive suit tonight in the uber. He didn't get annoyed that he had to shower both me and him past midnight, though he was exhausted. Harry loves taking care of me (and our kids) and wouldn't wish for any other life. Even when his life becomes chaotic and stressful. Harry loves his family dearly and his family love him just as much or more.

Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)

My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

Harry Styles Series - One Shots & Blurbs Masterlist

Harry Styles blurbs, concepts, & short stories Masterlist- (short writing with little to no dialog)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #husband!harry #dad!harry #harry styles sicfic #sicfic #harry styles grammys #grammys 2021 #harry styles comfort #soft!harry #husbandandwife #harry styles uber

167 notes · View notes

crippledfaggot · 4 years ago

Text

new update post:

i first got COVID in late June. only symptoms were body aches, fatigue, and shortness of breath. i quarantined for a month and went back to work at the end of July with two inhalers to help deal w the lingering symptoms. i worked for about 2.5 weeks before i started feeling even worse and first started having a bad cough. i went in to see my GP on the 18th of August where she gave me antibiotics for an secondary upper respiratory infection. on the 23rd i went into ER where they found pneumonia and redid the nose swab COVID test. on 26th i found out im COVID posi again/still and have been in quarantine since. on 31st i went back to ER since the symptoms were even worse and i had finished the antibiotics. i found out the pneumonia was gone and was told to just deal and given cough syrup and tylenol.

today i went back to my GP. i have been so exhausted that i sleep 10+ hours a night and then take multiple naps a day. my cough is still really bad and i often feel as if im breathing through gravel. my body aches are severe enough that even the max amount of tylenol isnt touching it at all. she is testing me for mono to rule out a secondary viral infection and ordering a chest CT to make sure there isn't any lung damage missed by an x-ray. i am also being referred to rheumatology and opthalmology to hopefully get my non-COVID related symptoms under control. she is having me stay home from work for at least a month (till 10/11) but is saying she doesnt know when or if my symptoms will subside. she is helping me get on temporary disability but that is less than 50% of my income.

my partner, @dresdenthemaenad, and i really need your help. my partner, Lisandro, is a mentally ill brown trans latinx immigrant who has not been able to get a job for over a year now, something that COVID has made a million times worse. Dresden is my best friend, my soulmate, and is a disabled Black trans person who was supposed to move in w us back at the beginning of July due to an abusive family situation, but because of me getting COVID is now stuck in Alabama (whole story on GoFundMe). i am a white crippled trans person who has been the sole provider for our family till i was laid out by COVID. our little family is really struggling.

if you are able to help please donate to either my partner's or @dresdenthemaenad's paylinks or the GoFundMe that we set up for Dresden's move.

Dresden's GoFundMe: (link)

Dresden's Venmo: @blackramboi

Dresden's CashApp: $blackramboi

Lisandro's Venmo: @L-cuervo

Lisandro's CashApp: $SPadfoot

Lisandro's PayPal: [email protected]

for any new updates check out my #update tag

#signal boost #covid help #covid recovery #black trans lives matter #blm #black lives matter #donations #please help #p #update

2K notes · View notes

honeyhenry · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet as Pie

With some much needed time off, and excitement crisp in the air, you had flown over to Jersey with your husband Henry for Christmas to stay with his family, and they had been delighted to have you both back on his homeland. You settled in to Henry’s old room, unpacking all of the gifts you had brought for his family. You knew his nieces and nephews were going to love you even more when they saw what would be lying for them under the grand Christmas tree in the living room. Secretly, you were their favourite - not that they’d ever tell their poor Uncle Henry.

The large home is tidy, but scattered with family members in every room, all feeling at home in the place where Henry and his brothers grew up. You’d been able to catch up with the relatives you didn’t often see, and promise to spend some quality time together over the holidays.

It was so sweet to watch all the children’s faces light up on Christmas morning. You were glad that you and Henry could be spared an extra few moments in bed, being the only childless couple in the house. Yet moments later, Kal had leapt onto the bed - much to Henry’s annoyance; “down Kal, careful now” - as soon as he had heard the pattering of his small friends’ feet out in the hallways. And what Kal wanted, you usually gave him.

Which is why, at 6.45am, Kal dragged you and in turn, dragged Henry down to the living room where the rest of the family sat, with the kids lit up like the Christmas tree that their plethora of presents laid under, grinning to their bleary eyed parents who’d barely had a wink of sleep on the cold winter morning.

“You’d think after 6 years it gets easier” you’d heard someone murmur, and so you’d decided to put the kettle on for those poor souls. Luckily for you, 45 minutes later, you’re able to snuggle back into bed with Henry, warming your feet on his legs to annoy him. You kiss the offended pout right off his face, before feeling his beefy arms wrap around your waist. It’s the last thing you had recalled, as you dozed off in his arms only seconds later, feeling his fingertips rub against your hip softly.

------

The kitchen was bustling with about 10 bodies all completing their various tasks; cooking, washing, baking, roasting, timing and tasting. Well, you had kicked your husband out of the kitchen for sneaking a taste of your dessert before it was ready, chastising him out of the door.

“You can either help properly or go and play with your siblings” you had bargained while he’d grinned, leaning against the doorframe. He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down like you were a pastry he was keen to ravish himself; “But who is going to compliment the chef?”

With that, you’d folded your arms across your chest, blushing at his words. The cheek of that man was not lost on you, and it still got you every single time.

And you loved him for it.

------

The meal was a total success. A wonderful soup starter, followed by a small appetiser, and then the most magnificent turkey. Feeding over 20 people - now probably closer to 30 if you were to include the children who were growing up so quickly in front of your eyes - had proven to be difficult, but it was a challenge the family had clearly tackled before.

You had been so excited to prepare the desserts, and present your dish. However, halfway through the day, somewhere between the main course, watching your nephews with their new toys, and the dessert course of the delicious homemade Christmas feast, you’d fallen asleep on the sofa completely tuckered out. Your legs rested on Henry’s lap as he’d covered you with a hand-knitted blanket that he’d once slept with as a boy. Henry’s mother speaks up, careful not to wake you. She has a gleam in her eye, not that you or even Henry notice, too wrapped up in your own cozy sleepy bubble together by the fire.

“Dessert can wait” his mother says to the gaggle of children and adults swarming the living room, “go out and get some fresh air.”

She turns to the children, specifically. “Do not disturb your Aunt, okay?”

------

Your cheeks are warm as the fire heats the living room, and after a particularly competitive game of rugby with his brothers, nieces, and nephews, Henry quietly checks on you. He had left the room earlier when you had shifted your legs slightly, taking the opportunity to get some fresh air himself. It had indeed been a long day. His brothers had questioned your tiredness briefly, making sure you were well. With the knowledge that you were simply sleepy, they had begun to joke that you obviously just couldn’t keep up with the rest of the Cavills - despite having married into the family for 2 years and been around for the holidays for 4. Henry had promised them that you were fine - that you still weren’t used to the long trip back to the island for the holidays.

Not exactly a fib, he’d thought.

Kal was laid beside you, loyal as ever, watching out for anyone who may disturb your rest, sending a rumbling growl towards anyone who approached. Except Henry.

While checking on you now to make sure you were still comfortable and resting well, he smiled, taking a picture of you wrapped up cosily by the fire, at peace in his childhood home, completely at rest and ease with him and his closest relatives. Petting Kal softly, he thanks him for looking after his mama so well.

“So?”

His mother, he hears. She’s alone for once as there was no one rushing to check for updates on food, no enquiries about the house, or any funny stories woven into a ten minute tale from her grandchildren. She’s alone, with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised.

Henry stands up straight. There’s nothing that can wipe the tremendously cheesy grin off of his face. He can’t even speak. Even after dessert had finished, you were the one who would be doing all the talking, the telling, the explaining.

“Mum-”

“Henry. She’s not ill. and i know you’re sensible enough to not be up the whole night with your wife...at least under my roof. So…?”

He looks over at your peaceful form, and then scratches his neck, blushing at being caught out, but also ecstatic that he can finally say something about it.

“She’s eleven weeks. We’re expecting a baby next summer”

With that, his mother almost leaps with joy over to her son, who she hugs closely despite the obvious height barrier.

“Oh i knew it, I knew it! I’m so happy for you Henry, for you both. I thought, ‘She normally loves that bread for starter’, hm? Oh my boy! A father!”

With her proclamation, Henry finds that he has tears in his eyes as he holds his Mother close, finally glad that it’s not just a little secret between the two of you - well, the two of you and Kal, who had already been a stellar protector and big brother.

“We had planned to tell everyone after dessert…we’ve known for nearly 2 months and it’s been killing me that I couldn’t say. We’ve had to be so careful-“

“Henry?” he hears your quiet voice from across the room, as Kal’s collar jingles. He turns to see you sitting up from your nap with Kal booping his nose at your stomach. You’re scratching at his head, thanking him for being such a wonderful boy, while looking up at the two Cavills.

It takes less than a second for you to realise what is happening in front of you. Your jaw drops and louder than your previous call, you exclaim, “Henry you told her?”

“She worked it out! Practically forced it out of me.” he grins, holding his hands up as his Mother pretends to smack his arm.

You stand, watching not to step on Kal or any stray Legos that your nephews have left strewn across the floor, and walk over to hug her. She’s been so caring and kind since you’ve joined the family all those years ago, and you know that she will be an incredible Grandma to your little one.

Breaking apart from the hug, you find Henry pulling you to him carefully, letting you melt into his side. Kissing your forehead he asks, for your ears only, “Good sleep? No pains? Sickness?” He has a small crease of worry between his brows and you always do your best to soften that small tense area with regular updates and sweet kisses.

“Yeah i’m okay honey” you reassure him, patting your stomach, “this ones growing up a storm in there”.

And they really are. Henry’s mother cannot believe she’s seeing it, and mostly can’t believe she missed it. You’re already showing, but a large loose sweater -probably one of Henry’s old ones that has since become yours - over your dress, has hidden a sizeable roundness to your stomach that you were excited to finally show.

“How did I miss this!” Your mother-in-law gasps, causing you to grin, and Henry’s chest to puff with utter pride and excitement.

“I know it’s bordering on having too much to eat, but we’ve been hiding it for a couple weeks now. Doctor thinks that baby’s gonna be big. Just like their daddy.” You explain, giving your stomach another gentle rub, surprised to find Henry’s hand there on it already.

If you’d thought Kal was protective, Henry was another thing altogether.

He’s still grinning as you kiss him, before you pull away to speak more to his mother about all the details, especially when you’ll be coming over to Jersey again. Kai follows you closely, making sure you’re staying safe. He’s known that there’s something up with his mama, there has been for weeks, especially with the way his master looks after you now.

Henry, deciding to be sneaky while the two women in his life are currently distracted chatting, takes another taste of the dessert you made, now set out on the kitchen. The worst part is, he thinks he’s got away with it.

He realises he doesn’t the second you smack his hand from the dessert.

“Strike two Mr Cavill! Step away from the pie.”

“And if I don’t?” he raises an eyebrow, watching your reactions as you hold a butter knife in your hand trying to look at least vaguely threatening - failing miserably. “Maybe i’ll strike out tonight, hm?” he continues with that wonderfully mischievous glint in his eye, taking cautious steps towards you. “You look even sweeter than your pie with this little bump here. Maybe I’ll have a taste later after all.”

Henry’s mother had not been right in her assumptions, for under her roof, you and Henry were not sensible at all.

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

please let me know what u think! i am v nervous to post but excited!!!

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill writing #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #henry fic #cavillry #henry cavill fluff

519 notes · View notes

disturbedbydesign · 3 years ago

Text

The Widow and the Wolf - Chapter 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x dark!exWidow!reader

Summary: After Natasha Romanoff took down the Red Room, the former Widows scattered to the wind. Raised to be a killing machine and released into the world with nothing and no one, you decided to use your newfound autonomy to take down the bad guys of your choosing. But now Natasha is riddled with guilt for leaving you on your own. She wants to recruit you, rehabilitate you, make you part of a team again. But the rest of the squad has reservations, and no one is more against you than Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Graphic violence; Mentions of domestic violence, rape, pedophilia, human trafficking, child sex trafficking; eventual Dubcon (not Bucky); eventual smut; slow(ish) burn enemies-to-lovers. [More warnings will be added as necessary but these are the Big Bads.] 18+ only, no minors.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Chapter Three

If you had a home, it would be Bucharest, even though you despise the place. It was the first place you went when you got free, because you know he’s here somewhere, conducting his evil machinations from the shadows, shielded by layer after layer of vile men across the globe doing his dirty work. There are plenty of men out there deserving of your particular brand of justice, but no one more so than the Viper. Sometimes you think that, if you can just find him and take him out, you might be able to move on—try to make a normal life for yourself, whatever that looks like. You don’t allow yourself to think about what will happen if you finally achieve your life’s goal and it’s still not enough for you.

You remember everything about the day you learned of the Viper’s existence. You were just 7 years old, one of many little girls packed into a shipping container. You had no idea how long you’d been in there or how long you would be in there. It smelled rancid, and there was never a moment of quiet. Most of the girls were screaming or crying, but a few (like you) were silent, just observing. You don’t know who sold you from your orphanage and shipped you off to Dreykov and you never will. What you do know is that you had no family to miss and no one to miss you, so you didn’t understand what the others were so upset about. From the very beginning, you adjusted to life as a Widow almost effortlessly, which is its own form of tragedy.

Others, though, they were stolen away from people who loved them. This seemed a foreign concept to you when you heard about it from the tiny, sobbing girl huddled next to you in the shipping container—the girl who told you about the Viper, the girl who would become your first and only friend until Dreykov took control of all of your minds. Once you were given the serum, your memories were locked up inside your own heads—none of you could have talked about your past lives even if you’d wanted to. Your words were not your own. You didn’t know what was real and what was planted there. Sometimes you still don’t, and nothing terrifies you more than that.

You have no idea how many little girls the Viper funneled to Dreykov over the years, but it was probably a decent amount. His real bread and butter had always been sex trafficking, and he’s still doing it—on an even larger scale if your intel is correct (which, of course, it is). But he won’t be operating for much longer, not now that you’re so close you can almost taste the venom. You were barely 8 years old when you decided you would kill him, and now you have your chance. You are so close, closer than you’ve ever been, but he keeps slithering out of your grasp. And so you’re in Bucharest, again, looking for answers, again. But you have other business, too—almost as important, if not more so.

You head to the safehouse on the outskirts of the city. The building doesn’t look like much on the outside, but you’ve made sure the inside is comfortable enough for the women and children who live there. The matron greets you at the door and you hand her this month’s envelope, which contains enough cash to feed everyone for the next two months, keep the lights and the water on, and some extra to fix the plumbing issues that have been plaguing the building since you bought it.

The building can house about 40 people comfortably—it’s not nearly enough, and you’re determined to create as many safe spaces as you can, but it’ll do for now. For now, you have to select your charges according to a very strict criteria: they are all women and children (and the children of women) who have been bought and sold by the Viper. Some of them escaped on their own; some of them had assistance from you and the very few people you trust in the city. But all of them have suffered, and all of them have information that you need. Individually, it’s not much, but the more women you talk to, the more pieces of the puzzle you have to work with.

Besides for the cash drop, today you’re here to see the newest resident: Irina, a 19-year-old beauty your Bucharest contacts had managed to snatch from one of the sex clubs. Irina was delivered to the Viper at 12, and her life since then has been an endless nightmare that you can’t think about for too long without feeling physically ill. She’s sitting by the window in the living room, cupping a steaming mug of tea, when you approach her. You walk towards her slowly, and when Irina looks over at you, there is recognition in her eyes even though you’ve never met.

“You’re the Widow,” she says.

“Not anymore,” you reply. “But if that’s what you’d like to call me, go ahead. May I sit?” She gestures to the seat opposite her and you settle in for a chat. “I’d like to ask you some questions, Irina. Is that ok?”

“The others told me you’d be coming.” She speaks softly, her voice hoarse from screaming or crying or both. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’ll never catch him, you know.”

“I disagree,” you say, “but I need more information.”

“Alright,” she agrees, “if you think it will help,” and you begin the gentlest of interrogations.

Irina tells you that for the first several years after she was taken, she hadn’t heard anyone mention the Viper. She thinks that a lot of the girls probably knew about him or came directly from him, but no one would talk about it because it was too dangerous or traumatizing (or both). Things were different at her last club, though. When you ask her how many of the girls at Delirium knew about him, she tells you that several of them had passed through him somewhere along their journey. One of them—one far too young to be working there—even admitted that she’d been with him only two months earlier.

Finally, after all this time, you’ve got a clear line from point A to point B. You feel it in your bones that Delirium holds the answers, that if you can just get in and poke around a bit, you’ll be able to find him. You take Irina’s hands in yours and thank her for her help, and then you hear it: heavy footsteps coming down the hall. No woman or child in the building weighs enough to make a sound like that, and no men are allowed on the premises. You know who it is before you see him.

*****

Bucky watches you enter the building from his position on the roof across the street. His contact had told him that there were whispers of a Widow safehouse at this address, though no one would dare set foot within 10 blocks of the place to find out. Bucky doesn’t believe the rumor, though. He knows you work alone, that you pride yourself on it. He assumes this is just one of many places where your targets meet their ends, and he knows enough about Bucharest to know that there are a lot of men in this city who fit your modus operandi.

Still, something is off. It’s not an empty building. There have been women and children coming and going all morning, and nearly all the apartments seem occupied. Why would you choose to do your dirty work in a place with so much activity, with so many innocents around? That seems not only impractical but beneath even you. He’s lost in these thoughts, checking each window with his binoculars, when he settles on a beautiful young girl staring out the window, looking desperately sad. She turns to look at someone he can’t see, and then he sees you emerge from the shadows and take a seat opposite her.

There’s a softness to your face—a gentle kindness—that knocks the wind out of him. Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you, analyzing your body language and facial expressions to try to figure out what the hell is going on. This is the last thing he expected to see, and he tells himself that this woman must be hiring you for a job—except the woman is nothing but a broken child and doesn’t look like someone who would be taking out a hit on somebody (and certainly not someone who could pay for one).

It’s unnerving, watching you this way, and Bucky is no longer sure that what he’s doing is right. There’s something about your interaction with this girl that makes him feel like a voyeur, witnessing an intimate moment that he should not be seeing but that fascinates him nonetheless. Still, he’s here, you’re his mission—albeit one he took upon himself—and he needs to finish it. By this time, Natasha and Steve are almost certainly on their way, and Bucky needs to get to you before they show up. He went rogue and committed to this plan; now he just has to execute it. He’ll deal with the consequences later.

Bucky makes his way across the street and around the back, where children’s toys litter the small yard of weeds and dirt. When he gets to the back door, he notices that it isn’t the usual ancient rusted lock that one finds on the old buildings in this neighborhood; it’s brand new tech. There’s a pretty decent security camera setup around the building, too.

What the hell is this place?

Bucky has two choices: he can rip the door off the hinges, or he can scale the building and climb in the open window on the top floor. You’re going to be homicidally pissed either way, so he might as well not destroy any property—you may be a monster, but the other tenants here look like civilians, and he doesn’t want to sacrifice their security in his quest to bring you in.

Bucky makes it into the building and weaves his way through the hallways. Along the way, he runs into a few women, and each one of them freezes when they see him. They are shocked and deathly afraid—a look he knows far too well—and they scurry back to their apartments and lock the doors. With his hair cut short, baseball cap pulled down, and leather jacket and glove hiding his prosthetic, it doesn’t seem possible that all of these women would immediately recognize him as the Winter Soldier. That’s what it feels like to him, though, and it’s a gut-punch sensation he does not like at all.

When he gets to the sitting room, the girl you are with has the same look of terror, and for a moment, so do you. But you snap back to yourself quickly—having gone from soft to terrified to hostile within a span of about 15 seconds. Before he can react, you stomp towards him, grab him by the jacket, and hiss, “Not here.”

Bucky hears you speak to the girl in Romanian, “Don’t be afraid, Irina. He’s a friend,” although he knows you think him anything but.

The second you get him into the hallway, you’ve got your knife to his throat. Even with your cold blade nicking his skin, Bucky fights the impulse to disarm you. He doesn’t want to fight you. He knows that he’s intruded on something here, though he doesn’t know what, and he actually feels guilty. He could break you in half if he wanted to, but he lets you pin him to the wall—lets you feel like you’re in control.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you growl.

“You know why I’m here,” Bucky replies, but he doesn’t know—not really, not anymore. “What is this place?”

“It’s somewhere safe,” you say, “or it was until you showed up. No boys allowed, Soldat. Time to go.”

You catch him off guard when you flip him around and throw him through the nearest door, and before he can regain his balance, you kick him straight through the window and into the yard two storeys below. The fall is nothing to Bucky, and he knows that you know that, but it certainly made a statement. He looks up at the broken window he’d just crashed through and sees you peering out with a satisfied smile on your face.

Bucky calls up to you, “I just want to talk.”

“Bullshit,” you snap.

“I mean it,” he says, and he actually does. “You can pick the place.”

He watches as you consider his offer, weighing your options—you obviously don’t trust him, but it’s clear that the sanctity of this location is important to you. Now that he’s violated it, you can’t just let him wander off. You agree to meet with him that evening—in public, at a club in Old Town.

“Come alone, Soldat,” you call down to him, “and if you tell anyone about this place, I’ll throw you out a higher window.”

Bucky tries to hide his tiny smile but he knows you see it, just like he sees the little quirk of your lip just before you disappear. He hoists himself off the ground and brushes himself off. When he turns to leave, he sees a little girl holding hands with her mother. He has no idea how long they’ve been standing there, but the girl is pointing and giggling at him.

The little girl asks, “What happened to him, mama?”

“The Widow’s bite,” she replies.

*****

“He’s not going to hurt her, Natasha,” Steve says as he prepares the Quinjet for landing.

“She might not give him a choice,” she replies, strapping herself in. “What the hell was he thinking coming here alone?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says. “There’s something about this girl that’s really gotten under his skin.”

Natasha looks at Steve, asking the question with her eyes she wouldn’t dare say aloud, and he picks up what she’s putting out.

“He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore. All of that programming… it’s gone. You know that. He’s just Bucky now.”

Natasha nods in agreement, but a part of her still has questions—not whether the deprogramming worked, she knows that it did, and she trusts Bucky with her life. No, Natasha’s concern is what is going on inside Bucky’s head. He was doing well, he was adjusting, he was finally ok, but the existence of you seems to have triggered something in him that the words never had. The words made him cold and empty and ready to comply, but you—you make him think, and Natasha knows how dangerous it can be to dwell too much on things you’ve left in the past.

When Steve and Natasha arrive at Bucky’s old apartment, it’s empty, but there are small signs of life—the indent of a head on the pillow on the floor in the corner, an apple core just starting to brown. He’s been there, and recently. Natasha and Steve don’t know who he would still have contact with in Bucharest, so they are left with nothing to go on. Bucky knows how to cover his tracks, and he left them just enough crumbs to get them to Bucharest but not enough that they could find him when they got there.

“He wants us to trust him,” Steve says, “to wait for him to bring her back here.”

“I can’t just sit around waiting for something to happen, Steve. I have a really bad feeling about this.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” Steve asks.

Natasha sighs and looks out the window. “I have no idea,” she replies, and that’s when she sees it: a piece of graffiti spraypainted on the wall of a building down the street—a coiled snake ready to strike.

The memory hits Natasha like a freight train. She knows that symbol. She knows what it means. She knows exactly who you’re looking for and it seems absurd to her now that she hadn’t thought of it before.

“Let me make a call,” she says. “I think I know why she’s here.”

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dark!reader #dark!fic #the widow and the wolf

105 notes · View notes

bellybiologist · 2 years ago

Text

Last week of July update!

Heya all, I'm just sorta checking in as the last week of my vacation is starting just to ramble a bit about how Things Are Doing™!

Vacation has been restful, and things are on track for resuming in August. Didn't get a lot done (but that's sort of the point! so it's a good thing), but did manage to finish like, one and some change commissions. Still picking away at those, and will continue to do so. I really do want to finish what i owe still, especially since there will most likely be a time i'd need to open emergency commissions to take care of surprise expenses, which are more likely than ever. And I can't exactly feel like that's a thing I can do with outstanding orders already behind me. So continue working on them i will. However, next time, i'll have to stick to simpler commissions, i think.

Despite taking the month off, the month has been rough cuz at this point, it's hard not to associate summer with my mom's illness and passing last year. The anniversary of her passing is coming up; It'd be a year already on the 7th of August, and it's been on my mind basically at any point i let it wander. It's difficult to enjoy the summer still and i'm unsure i ever will in an official capacity. (and unfortunately a LOT of friends' birthdays want to happen during this time to, lol. So it's a struggle xD)

Luckily, keeping busy has helped as always. Video games like Fire Emblem (letting me enjoy My Boy™) have been nice. I've had time to grieve a bit at least, but i'm still incredibly angry, looking back at how it all went down. Objectively, it could've been way worse; I recognized that then, and recognize that now. But it's still difficult not to find my self occasionally seething that if just one more thing went right, it could've been a bit better for all parties involved, y'know? The two voices i've crafted in my head are constantly fighting, shouting "The world should like, Totally Burn™😈 " and "NO Verzi this isn't your heart!!". Who'll win out? no one can say. It's difficult when your heroes and loved ones are continually let down by society, and every -ism you can think of. So i think a little burning would help. ;P

All that said, i'm doing "fine." The reorganizing of my household definitely means i have less time and energy to actually draw due to increased responsibilities and the fact i have no transportation of my own anymore, plus more expenses to pay. So it's a bit rough in that regard. Either way, we're hanging in there, That's all anyone can hope for, i suppose! I often look back to my 2016-2019 productivity, when was streaming twice weekly, belting out like 12 pics weekly with 10 patreon figures AND commissions. Those were days, lmao. I miss those, but i guess i can just only accept that's a bar that would be unreasonable to even attempt to meet given current circumstances.

But yeah, things will be Resuming in August. Again, thanks for the support and whatnot!

#verzi rambles #Patreon announcement

7 notes · View notes

imonthinice · 3 years ago

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 4/?

Word Count: 1.2k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name (your best friend’s name)

Hello Everyone! Happy Sunday/August 1st! I would just like to say right now that my suggestions are open, I have a few parts of this story in my queue, and I know the same plot can get boring really quickly, so if you want to submit plots, dialog prompts, HC request or AMA, feel free to <3

Warnings: Swearing, Dark humor, Mentions of Trauma, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Getting back onto Jason’s bike, he whispered to her,

“Do you want to go get dinner? I know it’s late, but I can take the night off and we can go drinking,” he said.

“We’re both underage though?” she questioned.

“It’s Gotham, Y/N, I know a guy.”

“Then why the hell not, just let me text my roommate and tell her I’m not coming home, and then we can get going,” she purred.

“Have at it.”

She began, Hey dude, sorry I can’t make it to dinner tonight, maybe invite your lover over, I’m going to be with Jason and get dinner and drinks.

A/N wrote back, You can just tell me if you’re going to have sex, Y/N.

She laughed and sent back a quick, Shut up x

“Alright, Jason, we are we headed?”

“To Hell,” he mused and she leant into him and placed her hands on his chest.

Riding back into the city from the outskirts was just as fun as riding out of the city, Y/N was enjoying herself fully, and had it not been a motorbike, she would have had her hands in the air like a little kid does when playing ‘airplane’ on the playground. It was like the streets exuded what she had always wanted from life.

And the pretty man driving her around at top speeds and seeming to take the long way just for her was definitely not forgotten. Autumn was close around the corner, so the clothes she was wearing were in no way made for the cold weather and wind hitting her. She looked cute, yes, but it was about time to throw the shorts and tank tops into the Summer wardrobe and pull out the Winter one.

Before she knew it, they were at a small hole-in-the-wall bakery in the middle of bustling Gotham City. And instantly bombarded by paparazzi. Jason grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her into the bakery. It was a small French Bakery. Not exactly dinner like he had said, but not exactly an unwelcomed surprise for her, either.

“A very healthy dinner here, Jason. Can’t believe this place is open this late.”

“I had to do what I had to do to get out of the flashing lights, Y/N, I’m sure you understand, and it’s not, but I know the owner and called in a favor.”

She questioned what he did to do that, but didn’t think much of it when the long-haired red-head greeted them. “I do, I’m just yanking your leg. Did I ever tell you I speak French by the way? Bilingual.”

“You are?” he questioned.

“Yes, my dad is a French immigrant.”

“You learn new things everyday. Fuck,” he said when the lights started getting really bad.

“Can I flip them off or do you think Bruce would hate me for it?”

“You care about what he has to think?”

“Don’t really want to ruin his image if we’re going to get serious, I have hopes,” she whispered.

“Go for it, I’ll order.”

And she went up to the window, letting them take a few pictures and scream about ‘What’s your name!’, ‘Can I have an interview?’, so she flipped them off. Held it there for a while before walking back to Jason. She saw Jason was watching her flip them off.

“Is it too early to say that was hot?” he whispered in her ear.

“It is welcomed,” she purred.

“You are an enigma, Y/N, truly, now let’s get out of here,” he grabbed her hand and ran to his bike with her in tow. Not before Y/N had flipped off the cameras again, though.

They got onto his bike and rode about as far as they could get from the paparazzi. When they pulled over for a few seconds, because Jason seemed to have hit a pipe and she checked her phone,

Hey, I’m gonna spend the night with my lover, you can bring Jason back home, since you keep FLIPPING OFF THE PAPARAZZI

She laughed and wrote back, Exhilarating, I know, thanks x

“Hey, we can go over to my place to get away from the pap, my roommate is with her boyfriend,” she said.

“Gladly, let’s get the fuck out of here before they notice us.”

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

They made it to her driveway.

“This is quite the house, did you buy it?”

“Renting with my roommate, you think I can afford this?” she joked

“Well maybe one day you’ll be able to,” he chuckled.

He grabbed her hand and actually walked her to her porch, where she fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door, revealing mediocrity.

“It’s not much, but it’s the people you share that ‘not much’ with that makes it home,” she said.

“I like it. It feels loved.”

“Is the Wayne Manor not loved?”

“It is, but it’s not a mismatch of furniture with blankets thrown on every couch, that’s for sure.”

“The more you know.” she said.

“You want to eat now?”

“I’d love to,” she whispered in his ear.

“Don’t expect sex or anything, Y/N,” he mocked.

“No no, you’re too classy to have sex before the first kiss, aren’t you?”

He laughed and pulled out the food. It was good food.

“Why did you choose criminal psychology over forensics, Y/N?” Jason started.

“I honestly don’t know, I just thought it would be more up my alley, dealing with the human brain when it’s not blown out seems a lot easier than dealing with the mess of a madman,” she huffed, “no murder in the family, if that's what you’re wondering. I just want to make a difference in this world, and I feel like I can do that through the minds of criminals,” she continued, “What about you, Jason? What drives you to fight crime the best way we can as civilians?” she finished.

“Well, my father is in prison with a life sentence-”

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, Jason,” she reached out and placed her hand on his.

“Don’t be, he is a bad man. Seems childish to describe him that way, but he’s in prison,” he paused, placing his other hand on her’s, “my mother died when I was younger, I became an orphan, she died of illness, I don’t remember which, but I helped her through her last years on this world,” he paused again.

“Take your time, if you want to delay the rest of the story you can,” she assured him.

“Heh,” he let out a weak laugh, “Bruce picked me up off of the streets and I met my brother, Dick. But I guess the whole, daddy’s-a-criminal fuels me in some way. Just to spite the man.” he finished.

“You didn’t have to tell me that.”

“I wanted to, it does still kind of affect me and if this becomes serious you should know.”

“Well I'm sure that even under that cracked exterior, your heart is still the same.”

“You sure about that one?”

“Positive.”

Positive became their favourite word. Jason put her name down as ‘Positive’ in this phone when she slicked off to the bathroom, shooting Dick a quick text,

When did you know to kiss Barbara?

Y/N did the same, when she slicked off to the bathroom to fix her hair she changed his name to ‘Positive’ and shot A/N a text,

How do you know when you truly like someone?

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood fluff #batfam #batfamily #batbros #dceu #dc #dcu

53 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Text

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10, pt 11, pt 12, pt 13

- Chapter 14 -

“I would like your advice on something,” Meng Yao said to his mother.

Meng Shi was wearing silk again, rich colors that suited her – she had fully recovered from the serious illness she’d had a few years back, something for which he would be forever thankful to Qinghe’s doctors because he knew she wouldn’t have made it if they were on their own – and a fur-lined jacket that made her look especially comfortable. She finished pouring the tea and smiled at him.

“You do?” she teased. “Still, after all these years?”

“I’m never too old for your advice,” he said and kissed her on the cheek before sitting down.

The weiqi board in the corner was midway through a game, he noticed, and was glad: Sisi was terrible at weiqi, and the only other person who routinely played against Meng Shi was Nie Huaisang. Things between them had grown better as he’d grown older – he loved to paint, to play, to keep birds and raise flowers, and those were the things Meng Shi liked the most.

It was good to see them spending time together. Meng Yao hoped that Meng Shi could show Nie Huaisang how to forgive, and to remember how to be as carefree as he had once been.

After all, Nie Huaisang had taken up what had once been Meng Yao’s duties, during the war, all the intelligence work and strategy, the battlefield clean up and the politics, and it had left its marks. Indeed, if Meng Yao had been anyone other than Nie Huaisang’s dearly beloved brother, he would probably be the subject of a decade-long plan of utter obliteration right now, good motivations or not – in fact, he was pretty sure that Nie Huaisang had one already plotted out, and was still considering it an option if Meng Yao didn’t make regular deposits on the infinity of fans he apparently owed him.

(The brat wouldn’t take duplicates, either. Meng Yao had put in an order for someone to send him an entire ship’s worth from Dongying in the hopes that that would earn him a little credit. The relevant someone being Wei Wuxian, who was off exploring the world with Lan Wangji - possibly for no other reason than to get away from the rest of them all teasing them about the long and overly dramatic way in which they’d confessed their affections for each other.)

Still, Nie Huaisang had forgiven Meng Yao, even if he hadn’t forgotten, and they were most of the way back to being as they had been before – which admittedly was closer than he’d ever been with Meng Shi, who Nie Huaisang seemed to treat as a casual acquaintance instead of a mother. He treated her about the same as Sisi, actually, and usually acted as if he thought Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue were his birth parents instead of his brothers.

And possibly Lan Xichen as some sort of rich uncle he could (and routinely did) extort for gifts.

(He still called him ‘pretty gege’, though he’d recently started up several debates – mostly monologues – as to whether Lan Xichen ought to now be called ‘er-ge’ and Meng Yao ‘san-ge’ according to their ages, being that he was now part of the family, or if they should just all go ahead and get properly married already so that he could call him ‘sao-zi’ instead. They’d all collectively decided to ignore him.)

“Is it about those sworn brothers of yours?” she asked, lips curving up into a smile that was entirely unlike the practiced ones she had once used most of the time, a real one that was a little bit crooked, and that made it all the more beautiful in his eyes.

Meng Yao batted his eyelashes at her. “I will of course let myself be guided by Mother.”

She laughed. “I think it’s a good cover,” she said. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, now, and she didn’t try to hide it with make-up or anything else. Meng Yao treasured every blemish and imperfection. “You three can spend all your time in each other’s pockets, putting each other above everything else, and no one will question it – or, well, question it too much.”

“Let them talk,” Meng Yao said. There would never come a day when people didn’t whisper about him behind their sleeves, calling him the son of a whore, and nothing he could do, no matter how hard he tried, would stop it. He could only adjust his own thinking and ignore them, at peace in his heart with the knowledge that they were wrong about him. With the knowledge that he was better than they were or indeed would ever be.

Perhaps there was something to Lao Nie’s old exhortation after all.

“But do they have something to talk about?” his mother asked, arching her eyebrows at him. “You retire to the same room to sleep, but I’ve never seen any of you walking strangely the morning after – what are you waiting for? Actual marriage vows?”

“The sworn brother oath served that purpose,” Meng Yao said dismissively, just as he’d explained time and time again to Nie Huaisang. It was just as permanent, after all; they would be bound together in this life and the next, each name forever placed alongside the others in the annals of history. “And we’re just moving slowly.”

He’d explained, in the end, what Wen Ruohan had wanted, what Nie Mingjue was, what that meant; he didn’t want to keep it hidden and risk anyone later thinking that he was taking advantage.

He didn’t want to keep even one more secret from his lovers in this lifetime.

Nothing. Not even surprise parties.

Nie Mingjue hadn’t cared one bit about finding out that he was a furnace, because of course he didn’t; he was still an idiot after all these years. Lan Xichen, at least, had been rightfully alarmed – neither he nor Meng Yao wanted to risk harming Nie Mingjue by accident, no matter how much he argued that his cultivation was high enough that he wouldn’t even notice a setback, and anyway that he trusted them not to try to steal away from him.

Nie Mingjue had finally convinced them to try, the night after they’d taken the oath. Emotions had been running high, and they’d all fallen into bed together, their blood running hot.

It had been – an experience, to say the least.

Sex was pleasant, something Meng Yao knew intellectually from his days in the brothel and personally from the few experiences, male and female, he’d forced himself to have in order to ensure he didn’t have any demons in his heart on the subject. He’d been glad to confirm that although he liked it well enough, it wasn’t so good that he would become addicted to the feeling, descending into dissipation and cruelty the way his father had.

What they’d shared together on that night, however…that wasn’t just sex.

That was something he could become addicted to.

Meng Yao had insisted on a strict moratorium on any further activities until they could process what had just occurred, and it had been telling that neither Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen had argued.

It had been mindblowing, a combination of overwhelming physical pleasure and emotional satiation, and then there was the spiritual ecstasy of cultivation – Meng Yao’s own cultivation, never especially strong, increased at an almost frightening pace for the next week, and Lan Xichen had confirmed a similar effect had occurred for him. Nie Mingjue’s cultivation seemed just as high as ever, unharmed, but obviously they had to do more research before they did anything else lest they accidentally cause harm to him somehow.

That meant they were back down to the basics, limiting themselves to rubbing up against each other at night and offering each other helping hands, given that Meng Yao and Lan Xichen weren’t willing to do anything together if it meant excluding Nie Mingjue – though recently they’d figured out that Nie Mingjue could narrate pornography without batting an eyelash with that frankly magnificent voice of his, and also that he liked telling people what to do (they knew that already, but still)…

They were going slowly. That’s how Meng Yao thought of it, and it was fine – he had no doubt that they’d figure out how to move to the next step sooner or later.

Sooner rather than later, given how quickly Lan Xichen was pouring through their respective sect libraries; apparently sexual frustration was a very effective motivator for him.

“If you’re sure you’re happy,” his mother said, and he smiled. “You seem to be. I’m glad.”

He nodded.

“So if it’s not about that, what do you want advice on? You haven’t needed to consult me on political matters in years. A-Sang would be better at that.”

“It’s not entirely political,” Meng Yao said, “though it’s not entirely apolitical, either, and don’t worry, I’ll consult Huaisang as well. Nevertheless, I wanted your views on the subject. You see, a rather complicated situation has arisen…I’ve been made an unusual offer.”

“An offer? A-Yao…”

“I know, I know,” he said, smiling. “Be careful of offers from strange men, especially bad men, and this is exactly that. But I still thought it was something worth considering. After getting the benefit of your insight, of course.”

“Well, then,” she said. “Now I’m curious. What’s the offer?”

He gave her the letter that he had received and drank his tea while she read it, her eyes going wide and then even wider.

“So,” he said, when he judged that she was done. “What do you think? Do I look like a ‘Jin Guangyao’? Or should I tell my father to go commit anatomically improbable acts on himself?”

“A-Yao…”

“I’m serious,” Meng Yao insisted. “This was always your dream, well before it was mine: whatever you decide, I’ll do. If you’d like for me to claim what should have been mine from the start, I’ll do it, though obviously if he thinks a mere name is enough to convince me to leave Qinghe in favor of Lanling he’s got a nasty surprise coming his way. But if you want me to tell him to his face that I’d rather be your son than his, I’ll do that too.”

He leaned back in his chair, and smiled.

“After all, I already have everything I want.”

- END -

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #meng shi #my fic #my fics #three gates

141 notes · View notes

prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

Text

To Be Continued - Part 1

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

A/N: this story idea was created from receiving two prompts for Brian in the YouxIdol drabble game I was completing this year. In this part, you can find prompt #186, “You don’t have to answer right away. I’d wait an eternity for you.”

Word count: 2252

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

Brian cupped her cheek tenderly with one hand, smoothing out any worried lines across her forehead with the other. He smiled encouragingly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes with his heightened emotions. “You don’t have to answer right away.”

“I don’t?” Charli breathed back, knowing that her response to his question was already formed. Yet it wasn’t the right time for any love confessions right now. Despite this, her answer rushed to the back of her throat, where she tried to swallow it back down repeatedly.

Brian already knew and nodded softly to let her know of this. “I’d wait an eternity for you.”

“Isn’t that a bit too cringe-worthy?” you wondered, pausing to read the words upon the screen with a frown. It wasn’t out of character for Brian Kang and Charli Evers. And it certainly wasn’t the first cheesy line you’d thrown into Captivated either. Still, you mulled over the scene a little longer, deciding whether or not it should be removed.

“What would Charli do in response?” you asked out loud to no one in particular, a flurry of action from your fingers taking place immediately. You followed the scene until completion before taking a break, switching out of the word document and over to your Discord server.

Smiling as you scrolled through the new comments about the upcoming sequel you were in the later stages of writing for Brian and Charli, you let out a rattle of a cough from your chest, groaning at your illness dampening your mood.

“I’m trying to finish this final chapter tonight,” you spoke out into the universe, casting your eyes to the heavens for effect. “I’ve battled through this cold for a week now. It won’t take me down just yet!”

Reaching forward for more cold and flu medicine, you swallowed the capsules down with a painful gulp of water and then felt your forehead. It was hotter than before, though you waved it off as you answered a couple of messages and returned to the final part of the story.

Captivated was the second story in your new trilogy series since your last series Destined had become an overnight sensation. When you sat down to pen the soulmate idea into something more than thoughts in your head, you hadn’t expected the tale to touch so many people over the world. Nor had you believed you would follow it up with To Love You, Forever, And Always either.

You originally felt that Destined was the reason why Brian and Charli’s first story Encounter was easily shared around. The protagonists had their own charms though and you could tell the fan base for this series was different from the last. They were just as eager, however, to find out when the pair would shake free from the star-crossed lovers’ trope and finally give in to the evident love they had for one another.

“Part three it’ll be,” you surmised proudly and somewhat exhaustedly after typing The End onto the electronic manuscript. Leaning back in your chair, you finally allowed yourself to succumb to the illness plaguing you. In a moment of disillusion, your mind conjured up Brian standing before you with concern etched in his eyes. You let the novel scene play out in your head, wishing he was actually here to help you out of your writing office, down to your bedroom and tuck you into bed.

Swinging gently from side to side in your desk chair, you hummed with delight. Brian Kang was your biggest self-indulgence character. You had created Park Jinyoung in Destined to infuriate your main protagonist, but Brian was the ultimate fictional guy. He was playful and kind, caring and thoughtful. He knew when Charli needed him to stand up in her weak moments, and he fought for what he felt was right even when all odds were against him. He also allowed Charli to see his vulnerability and his honesty, gaining him many fans around the world. And if all that wasn’t enough, Brian Kang was incredibly attractive.

You had really created the holy grail of a dream man.

Laughing to yourself in your sick-induced state, you smiled lazily. “Dream men are just that, Y/N. Brian Kang would never exist in this world.”

You nodded to yourself, agreeing with the proclamation, feeling more single in the moment as you did so. It was funny really, you were a successful author of Young Adult romance novels and yet you hadn’t experienced the touch of a man, let alone any ardent confessions since your university days.

“Right, it’s time for bed,” you decided before your mood plummeted further into despair. However, your limbs felt too heavy to move and so you simply closed your eyes once more, hoping a little nap would help you regain some energy to head off to bed later on.

When you opened your eyes next, you found yourself in your darkened bedroom, smiling gently at bringing yourself to bed sometime during the night that you couldn’t remember. Sitting up slowly, you allowed your gaze to adjust to the dim morning light filtering through the small gap in the curtain, before reaching onto your nightstand for your phone.

You blinked. Instead of finding the device, you saw a kitchen bowl and face cloth resting over the edge of it.

Did you bring that with you in the middle of the night? Surely if you had been attempting to bring down your own fever, the face cloth would have been strewn somewhere in among your bedding after falling asleep with it, not neatly placed back upon the side of the bowl. Looking beyond that, you found a bottle of water with a third of the liquid missing. You did vaguely remember sipping on some water overnight, and that eased your mind from your initial confusion.

Shaking your head, and swinging your legs over the side of your bed, you placed your feet in your slippers before padding back into the office in search of your phone. Maybe you had help overnight after all, and you wanted to check if your mother had come over at your request. She had done that one year when you caught a nasty virus and couldn’t cope on your own anymore. Motherly love was definitely needed, and now that you had completed your obligations with Captivated and sent it off to your editor Lily, you would have no restrictions on who entered your creative space.

“Huh,” you said when you saw your laptop screen still open. You had a habit of closing the screen every night after turning the device off and approached it now with some confusion, trying to recollect what you last did the night before. Nothing rose to the surface immediately and you reached for your phone, blindly hitting speed dial on your mother’s number. And when her greeting rang down the receiver, you were more than perplexed.

“Hey, did you come by last night?”

“No, why?” she answered and then gasped. “Y/N, you sound awful! Did you keep working even though you were sick?!”

“You didn’t come here?” you repeated, fingertips reaching for the sticky note upon the computer screen. “Maybe it was Lily.”

“Lily is out of the country isn’t she?” your Mum reminded and you blinked several times before focusing enough to read the note you held.

You shouldn’t have worked so hard to complete it! Your health is important too. How will I cope if you get any worse? Make sure you rest up well and drink a lot of fluids. I need my best writer in tip top shape to see where my world continues.

I made you breakfast. It’s not much, but make sure you eat before you sit down at this desk, hm?

- B.

Dropping the note, along with letting your mouth fall ajar momentarily, you stuttered out a hasty farewell to your mum before hanging up the phone and looking to the doorway. Cautiously, you walked through your house to the kitchen where you stopped in your tracks at seeing a tea towel covering something on the bench. Gingerly peeling it back when you finally approached it, you gasped when you found several dishes underneath, along with instructions on how to heat it up.

For a split second, your mind conjured Brian up again, imagining him in your kitchen preparing all this. It would totally be just like him to make sure Charli was well fed to regain her energy from any illness.

But, you weren’t Charli Evers.

In fact, you hadn’t even based her off your personality at all, rather, a close online friend of yours who you admired a lot. So, whilst Brian would definitely go to all this trouble for Charli, you sure were clutching at straws thinking of yourself in the same situation.

Who came into your home then?

Distractedly, you heated the porridge and brewed up the tea the mystery person had prepared as well. You carried the tray of food over to your dining table when it was done and sat down before taking your first mouthful.

And then you mulled over who could possibly step into your house that had the initial B.

Maybe it wasn’t a B, you concluded when you realised no one had access to your house with that letter, even as a surname. Climbing back to your feet, you rushed to your office where you had discarded the first note and held it up to inspect the handwriting.

“It could be an R,” you mentioned out loud, then shook your head immediately. Even if the handwriting was looser than most that you knew of, it couldn’t be anything other than a B.

After examining it for a few minutes, you sat down with a huff. You’d never seen the handwriting before.

You didn’t know whether or not to be alarmed.

Had there been an intruder overnight?

Jumping back up, you persevered through the dizziness that plagued you from moving so fast, heading down the hallway to the front door. The chain was still latched and there was no sign of forced entry. Again, making your way to the back door, everything was in order.

As was every possession you owned – minus the kitchen where the food had been prepared. But even then, the dishes that had been used were rinsed and stacked by the sink.

You jumped when you heard a sudden mewl at your feet and clutched at your heart, before stooping down to pick up your cat Binks. The black cat nuzzled into you affectionately before meowing again. “I guess you want to be fed, huh?”

Walking around the counter, you stopped when you found his bowl with some food remaining. You knew Binks wouldn’t leave food overnight. Glancing at the cat, you frowned. “Who did this, Binks?”

The feline merely yawned and settled down to nap in your arms. It certainly brought the saying, cat’s got your tongue, to mind and you rolled your eyes at the infuriating situation.

Sitting down on your couch, you stared at the wall ahead of you as you tried to find an answer to all the evidence. Stroking the purring animal in your arms, you nodded determinedly.

“The only answer is that I did it in a sleep-induced state,” you announced and Binks opened his eyes to look up at you before rolling around to start licking at his back leg. You sighed. “Right, Binks?”

You were certain your cat thought you were insane. However, it was all you could find to be the answer.

“I got up and I took myself to the kitchen and prepared the ice water to cool down the fever. And went to bed. Then maybe I got up again, which is when I placed the cloth on the bowl and prepared the food. I washed my dishes, including the ones I had piling up from being too busy with work and-”

Binks leapt from your lap then, sauntering down the hallway from your side. Getting up to follow him, you ended up back in your home office, where he pounced up onto your desk, standing on the keys to your laptop. “Hey! Get off!”

Swatting the cat away from the device, you noticed that it hadn’t been turned off overnight. That was not like you at all. Logging into your account, you sat down in your desk chair and shifted back suddenly when you found a new document open.

I bet you’re in disbelief about now, right? I guess I would be too. It wasn’t you who looked after you all night long, and did your dishes. Wow, you get behind in things when you’re focused on writing.

Don’t worry. I didn’t look around - much.

Your fever went down over a couple of hours whilst I moved back and forth helping you out. It’s the least I can do after you’ve spent so much time with me. Well, we’ve yet to officially meet.

One day.

- B (your biggest fan)

PS. I fed Binks. He really does have quite the personality.

“Okay!” you sounded in an octave higher, laughing a little to yourself at the same time. “Someone was definitely here. Who is B and how does this person know so much personal information?!”

You were too preoccupied to realise the document to Captivated was still open behind the other one.

And instead of saying The End as it once had, it had been deleted and replaced with To Be Continued.

_________________

Part 2

[DAY6 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

#kwritersworldnet #young k #young k fiction #young k fanfic #young k fluff #young k romance #young k au #day6 #day6 fiction #day6 fanfic #day6 fluff #day6 romance #day6 au #pwyl; to be continued #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop romance

120 notes · View notes

thanatophobia-thoughts · 3 years ago

Text

Trigger warning: Suicide.

One of the death anxiety groups I’m a member of has banned all talk of suicide. Even the allusion to suicide. Given that plenty of people with thanatophobia also suffer from suicidal ideations (I’m not one of them), I find this to be strange that suicide would be banned from the conversation, but nothing else, like health anxiety, the passing of other people, etc., is.

I do not encourage suicide in any circumstance, however I’m not here to police anyone against it, either. Many humans want a dignified death, and we offer this to our pets through euthanasia, thinking we are making the “right decision” for them. Having been previously suicidal, and understanding the pain of dignity loss, terminal illness, and much else, I am not here to say suicide is bad in every single circumstance. I will say that it is not a choice I encourage, and I would rather people find alternatives, but life is what it is, and I’ll not take a dignified death, or a choice, away from a person, either.

Sometimes, that choice is all that keeps us going.

So I am here to talk about how the choice to die is important today, and why I think that discussion needs to exist, in general.

I tried to kill myself when I was much younger, multiple times, for what I now consider very stupid reasons. Among them was, in fact, to punish the people I thought should care more about me in life, knowing they would suffer if I died, and realize how important I was to them. Others were the more usual, the pain of growing up and changing roles, status, and much else, in life. Everything was out of whack, and I didn’t have a good support group back then, nor was I telling anyone what was wrong with me. Despite wanting to punish people for not caring, I never let them know that I wanted them to care more, that I needed more, because I was caught up in stoic ideations of never letting anyone know you have weaknesses.

I’ve grown past that.

My dad’s told me he’s considered suicide, when he was a caretaker for his father. I’m aware, as well, that he doesn’t want to be in the same state as his father, and would rather commit suicide – this, while professing to want immortality, and being afraid of death.

He’s more afraid of having someone wipe his ass for him, than he is of death. He’s more afraid of losing his dignity, and having people remember him in that final, worn down, disease destroyed, state.

I would rather wipe his ass, and have him carry on to see what comes next, although, I’d really rather not be in that position, either. I know the kind of mental drain that will be. The emotional drain, to see my father reduced to that – but there was a time in my life when he was changing my diapers. Fair’s fair, right?

I know that him knowing he has that choice is important to him, and I’m aware that he might take it one day. It won’t be a reflection on how well I took care of him, or even of how little I meant.

In some ways, it will be because I meant too much for him to inflict the burden of himself on me any further.

It’s a thought that’s hard to cope with, when my brain goes off on imagining scenarios of the future, where we all end up at our worst.

I think he might last a while longer, because he knows it is an option. Because he knows he can, I believe, he won’t, for quite a while.

It’s hard to explain that contradiction to someone who hasn’t experienced it.

When I was getting over my suicidal ideations, I found power in knowing I could. I found power in writing characters who suffered similarly, knew they could, and found reasons not to. Created timelines, “I should live this long, to see this movie, and then I can check in with these thoughts again”. “I should wait until my cat dies”. “I should” “I should” “I should”.

I should became a mantra that turned into I can.

And “I can” is powerful.

I can commit suicide. Yes, I can. I absolutely can, any day, any time, for any reason. I have no desire to do it, but I can, if I ever have that desire.

But, if I ever do have it, I should wait for my cats. They’re only 6 years old now. I think they have 10 more years, at least. I should live that long, because I made a promise to them that I would be their forever home. So I will be.

And then ten years pass. I can commit suicide – but now I’m 41. Maybe my brother has children, or maybe I’m finally preparing to visit Japan. Maybe I started a new book series. I should attend to these things first, and then maybe, maybe, maybe.

And then I’m 81.

I can commit suicide.

But, maybe I should first go get breakfast at IHOP with the family on Sunday first, and hear my nieces and nephews make fun of me for drinking decaf.

And then I’m 85, and I have cancer. I can…but maybe I want to try and be 100, now that I’ve been told I can’t. And then I die at 87, from cancer, no choice of my own – and yet, it was, all along. Because at any moment I could have made the choice to stop things early.

I’m afraid of death.

I don’t want to die, although I have craved it in the past. I know others who are afraid, and crave it, at once. I don’t envy them – but I think they can find power in knowing it is a choice, even when it doesn’t feel like it at times.

Even when the pain seems insurmountable, and it feels like the only choice is to end it – it is a choice. And I think “I should” statements are powerful in those moments, to remind us of the choice, and help us make the best one in the moment.

Even if it’s “I should wait until I have finished my drink”, “I should wait until I have cleaned the dishes so someone else isn’t dealing with the mess”, “I should take a shower first”.

A mantra of “I should” can keep you going forward.

And so I think, discussion of suicide should be a part of thanatophobia, because of the people who suffer both. Because someone in one of the groups committed suicide and couldn’t talk about it, because any allusion or mention of it, was banned. Because this dual suffering of fearing death and thinking death ends all our pain, is a terrible thing to endure alone, especially when the fear creates so much pain, and is so constant, so unending, that death seems preferable even when it is our greatest fear.

#suicide #tw suicide #trigger warning suicide #tw: suicide #death anxiety #thanatophobia #death anxiety talk #death anxiety help #suicidal ideation

10 notes · View notes

supernaturallyobsessedchic · 4 years ago

Text

Emergency! Part 3

Summary: A woman comes back from her trip from Asia but isn’t feeling the best. And is rushed to the hospital. Her symptoms are that of the flue, but worse than. The virus spreads throughout the hospital, Jack falls ill collapsing in the break room. Dean falls ill on a rescue, Cas having to rescue the original victim and his partner. The reader, having to sit by and wait and pray for her friends pull through. But turns out the original patient with the virus got better, now her body has the antibodies to fight the virus.

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean x Nurse!Reader

Word Count: 4,262

Warnings: Scary Situations, Language, Mild Angst, Fluff.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: I could use the corona virus or COVID-19 but decided to use the virus used in the Emergency! Episode of the same name. The virus being a strain of the Asian flu during a bad outbreak in the late 60’s. Also the drugs and measure mentioned are probably not accurate, I’m not a pharmacist.

a/n2: D.O.N = Director of Nursing, DOA = Dead on Arrival, BP = Blood Pressure, O2 Sat = Oxygen Saturation

“Dean,” Cas says, walking into the fire stations garage.

Dean was logging supplies in the squad truck when he heard Cas enter and got his attention.

“What’s up Cas?”

“When you started dating Y/N, when did you know she was the one?”

“What do you mean?”

“I really like Meg, and when she was taking care of me after that accident of mine I found that she and I have a lot in common and I want to know her more?”

“Well, Cas, it’s different for other people. Just ask Meg out. Talk to her, find out stuff about her that she likes, hates, and if you can find yourself still able to love her despite her flaws. Keep it going. Keep taking her out.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Nothing in life is simple man.”

Cas nods in agreement.

The alarm sounded in the station.

“Squad 51, someone sick. Respond. 226 south Jasper’s Avenue, cross street South Walker boulevard.”

“Back at it again.” Cas says.

“Let’s hit it.”

Dean getting into his usual spot in the squad, revving the engine to life and heading to the location.

When they arrived, another station had arrived originally.

Dean and Cas gathered their tools and headed into the residence.

“Chuck, what do you got?” Cas asked.

“Kelly McMeyers, 22, her dad said she was fine at breakfast.”

They followed Fireman Chuck through the house to the girl’s bedroom to find her on her bed, sweating, pale and in obvious discomfort and pain.

Dean placed a hand on her head.

“She’s burning up, Cas, get the thermometer.”

Cas did as told handing the thermometer to Dean.

Dean placed in the girls mouth, under her tongue. Cas handing him the blood pressure cuff.

Dean began checking her Blood pressure.

“Get the radio, we need to tell the hospital.” Dean orders.

Cas, pulls out the radio of it’s holster on his belt.

“Rampart, this is rescue 51. Rampart this is rescue five one.” Cas radios in.

It was a normal slow day at the hospital, y/n having finished her charting, getting reading for her lunch break.

“Rampart this is rescue 51,” she heard Cas’s voice over the radio. “Rampart this is rescue Five one.”

She picks up the hand piece to the hospital’s radio to respond.

“Go ahead 51.”

“Rampart we have a female, Kelly McMeyers, 22 years of age.” Cas transmits.

“BP is 129 over 80, O2 Saturation is…”

Dean places a hand over her chest, watching it rise and fall. Counting in his head. But scolding with the low number he came up with.

“Did you pack the pulse Oximeter?”

“I did.” Cas says, handing it to him.

“I got to double check before I give you the wrong number.”

Dean turned on the device, and placing it on her finger.

“Still reading low, O2 Sat, 85.” Dean says.

“O2 sat is 85. Temperature is coming up…”

Dean pulls out the thermometer.”

“105.” He reads.

“Temperature is 105.”

y/n was shocked she had a temperature that high.

“51, standby, a doctor will be with you shortly.”

“10-4.”

“I just don’t understand, she was fine at breakfast, it happened so suddenly.” The girl’s father expressed.

“Some of these things do happen rather quickly.”

“Could be the Asian Flu?” Chuck suggests. Playing with the girl’s pet monkey.

“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions until a doctor can see her.” Cas says.

“Kelly, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Dean asks.

The girl nods groggily.

“She’s really drowsy.” Cas mentions.

“Kelly, are you in any pain at all?” Dean asks.

“My head hurts, my chest hurts too.” She whines.

“She threw up a bit before you got here Winchester.” Chuck mentions.

“51, this is doctor Singer.”

“Rampart, we have new information, patient is experiencing head and chest pain, she’s drowsy and vomited a few times before we arrived.”

“Alright, start IV, lidocaine, two milligrams. And just in case what she has is contagious keep contact with the patient to an absolute minimum.”

“10-4 Rampart.” Cas says.

“I’ll get the IV going, if you want to get the ambulance here Chuck.”

“Already ahead of you, they should be here by now.”

Sirens are heard in the distance, as if on cue.

“How about that timing?” Cas says.

“Alright, she’s set, lets get her to the hospital.” Dean says.

Just as more paramedics came in, Dean grabbed the equipment as Cas walked out with the patient.

Chuck still petting the monkey.

“I love monkeys, bet he’d be a cute pet to have.” He says.

“Yeah, but they’re not meant to be pets Chuck.”

“Yeah, I know. But, cute little guy, isn’t he?”

The monkey sat on his pole that stood in the room. And the monkey started walking over to Dean, walking on his shoulder, messing with his hat.

“Hey, stop,” he told the monkey while trying to shake him off gently.

The monkey got back on his pole as Dean walked out to the squad.

At the hospital, Y/N, Doctor Singer assisted in the patient, Kelly McMeyer, as Doctor Singer preformed a spinal tap.

Just as he pulled out the needle, gathering spinal fluid, Doctor Kline walks in.

“What’d you got Bobby?”

“Possible strain of the flu, her symptoms are consistent with that of the Asian flu, but the incubation period is too fast. Her symptoms came up quick, she was fine at breakfast.”

“Do we know where she’s been lately?”

“All over southeast Asia, Kelly and her friends were part of her church’s mission trip in assisting kids in orphanages, and adoption homes. Fixing them up, helping kids get adopted. And her dad took her camping when she got back. Took her to the Black Hills in South Dakota.” y/n explained.

“That opens us up to a whole array of fevers, and of course flus. China is always riddled with noval viruses we’ve never seen nor dealt with. And of course, there’s ones we’ve dealt with her, rocky mountain spotted fever, lymes disease, or even parasitic infections. Fungal infections that could have originated from her camping trip.” Jack explained.

“Did Kelly have any kind of protection on either trip?” Jack asked.

“Her dad made sure she packed, bug spray, tick spray, and they had nets around their camp to prevent nats and other flying insects from getting in the tents.” Y/N says.

“So, in which case, we’re back to, what did she catch when she was in China. Because chances of her getting anything on the camping trip are slim I’m guessing.”

“Her dad was pretty adamant that they were covered for their trip. He didn’t want anyone getting sick.”

Jack nods.

“Let’s get some blood work, see if we can’t find the answer in there.”

“You got it doctor.” y/n says, getting her hands sanitized, and ready to draw some blood.

“Dean, your shift was done an hour ago, go home!” His father ordered.

“Just finishing up the logs for the day.”

“Cas can finish it up for you, he at least goes home in an hour. Now go.”

“Yes sir, you sure you got this man?” Dean asks.

“Dean, I got it. Go home and rest. See you in two days.”

Dean handed Cas the papers for logging their day, what all happened, their end result. He grabbed the keys to his Impala and drove on home.

He could tell he was exhausted. At a stop light he had to really will himself to stay awake just a few more miles.

But as he got to another stop light, he knew he was too tired to be driving.

Y/N’s apartment wasn’t far. He moved lanes before her street came up and Dean drove to her apartment. Giving her a call to make sure she was either up or home.

“Hey Handsome, how was your day?” she asked.

He could hear the background of the hospital.

“Exhausting. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah, another late one. Why? Are you in the area?” she asked. Sounding concerned.

“I’m really exhausted, and I don’t think I’m gonna make it home. I was thinking on crashing at your place.”

“You can stay there Dean; my key is by my hanging plant. I think your clothes from last time are still there.”

“Thanks baby, where would I be without you?”

“Dead in a ditch because you’ve run yourself ragged, now hurry to my place and get to bed. I’ll home when I can.”

“Love you sweetheart.” He says with a tired smile, pulling into her apartment complex.

“Love you more Winchester, sleep well.” She says.

He parked his car near where she parked. Walking up tiredly up to her apartment he found her key easily.

He headed inside, placing the key back but also locking up behind him as he got himself settled.

She had since gotten a new apartment since the plane crash; sure she was farther away from the hospital, but she was closer to him by several blocks.

He had gotten out of the shower, feeling a little bit better, but he climbed into his side in her bed. Pulling the covers over him, and falling fast asleep once his head hit the pillow.

She had hurried with her charting, her replacement nurse coming in late. But at least she showed up.

She hurried to her car to get on home.

She saw Dean’s car parked next to her spot on the street. She parked her car right behind his.

She quietly entered the apartment. Leaving the lights off she navigated to her room seeing his sleeping form in her bed. Sound asleep.

She made her shower quick and simple, washing off the stress of the day and relaxing enough so she could fall easily asleep.

She climbs into bed beside him. He tossed, turning towards her, wrapping his arms around her.

Poor dude was exhausted. But Dean was no fool, he loved being the little spoon. Maybe too much. But when it was her, he didn’t care too much.

Days followed, and the original patient began to go downhill. Her fever wasn’t breaking.

Y/N had finished getting Kelly’s vitals, updated her chart. She headed back out to the nurses station when she saw an ambulance dropping off a new patient.

“What do we have?” she asked.

“Fireman, Chuck Shirley. Stricken with a fever, 104 temp, slightly elevated BP.” One of the paramedics informed.

“He was fine at lunch time.” His wife said behind the paramedics.

“Are you his wife?” Y/N asked.

“I am, my name’s Becky.”

“Okay, I’ll escort you to the waiting room. I’ll keep you informed of your husbands situation.” y/n told her.

Becky nodded, and she was lead to the waiting room. Y/N walked back into one of the exam rooms.

Hours passed as the doctors looked over Chuck, they learned one thing in common.

He responded to Kelly McMeyers.

“I want everyone who responded to get checked out. Clearly we are up against something contagious.” Jack orders.

“I’ll get right on it.” y/n says.

As the day wore on, Y/N had called all the stations that responded, the ambulance and even called up her boyfriend personally.

“Afternoon beautiful.” Dean answers.

“Hey babe, you responded on the Kelly McMeyers right?”

“I did, me and Cas both, why?”

“Chuck Shirley is sick with the same symptoms as Kelly, and Dr. Kline has ordered you two to come in and get checked out.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Dean, Chuck looked bad. Come in, please.” She practically whined.

“Okay, I will. Don’t worry sweetheart. I have to come down for supplies anyway, I’ll bring Cas along.”

“Thank you. See you soon.”

Just as Dean and Cas left the hospital after giving their blood samples to be checked for any virus or uprising in white blood cell count. Questions rose to how and where the original patient got sick.

“Whatever this Kelly chick has must be bad.” Dean says as he drove back to the station.

“Must be, if she didn’t get while camping then where?” Cas asks.

For a beat there was a pause.

“The same place where she got her pet monkey.” Cas says.

“You really think that monkey is the carrier?” Dean asks, unsure.

“Think about it Dean. It’s always animals in other countries that carry all these scary viruses. Swine flu came from pigs. Avian flu came from birds. The Asian flu came from, well, Asia but it was ducks. What if, this monkey one of those viruses and was somehow able to transmit it overseas?” Cas explained.

“You should really be a doctor something, damn Cas.” Dean says, impressed with the information Cas was able to share.

“Also think of the movie Outbreak.”

“Dude, that wasn’t even a real virus.”

“No, but it was a real situation that can really happen. It’s the worst case scenario. But it was a monkey carrying a mutated version of the virus.”

“I think you’re onto something Cas.” Dean says, digging around in his pockets.

“Here, call my girlfriend, tell her what you told me.”

“Okay.” Cas says.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s Cas, you got a minute?”

“How’s Dean?” she asked concerned right away.

“Oh, he’s fine, we were just talking about the victims. She brought home a pet monkey from China. And Chuck was playing with it.”

“That is actually something Cas, thanks. Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Not really, but just for the fact that this monkey might carry a virus that could kill Kelly and our friend.”

“And you’re spot on, on that. I’ll tell Jack and Bobby. Thanks Cas.”

At the hospital, the two doctors were at the nurses station when Cas called. Their attention on her when she seemed surprised with the information he given her.

“Cas of squad 51 just told me Kelly brought home a pet monkey from China. And that Chuck played with it.”

“That’s something, Bobby, get someone to go with Kelly’s dad back to his house. Get the monkey and bring the little guy in.”

“You got it Jack.”

Cas had handed Dean his phone back.

“You know, Cas,” he says.

Cas doesn’t say anything but has his attention.

“I kind of played with the monkey too.”

The next following day, Kelly was slowly getting better. But Chuck was taking a turn for the worse. His fever wasn’t breaking.

Jack goes into Kelly’s room to talk to her about her monkey.

A nurse was already in the room taking care of her.

“Abaddon why aren’t you wearing your mask?”

“Oh, sorry Doctor its just—”

“No excuses, you’re taking an unnecessary risk. Not only would you be putting your life at risk, you’re putting everyone else’s lives at risk as well.”

With that she put her mask over her mouth and nose.

“Kelly,” Jack says.

She opened her eyes slowly giving the doctor his attention.

“We got your pet down in the lab. Now, was he ever sick when you had him?”

“Yes, just after I bought him. He had a bad cold, and threw up a bit too.”

“Well in order to help the fireman, and you as well, we may have to put him down so we can perform an autopsy.”

“No, you can’t!” she cried. “I don’t know what I’d do without Oreo!”

“Kelly, it’s the only chance we have at saving lives.”

The tears that built up in the girls eyes fell. Jack took his gloved finger by her cheek, brushing away the tears that fell.

“If you’re right about that,” she swallows thickly. “Then you can take Oreo.”

“Could help you too Kelly.” Abaddon says.

“I know.”

Jack gave a sad smile through his mask.

He doffed off his PPE by the door and left her room to give the go ahead.

“Dean, we have a group of kids from Jefferson Elementary School to come in for a tour, can you help Gabe clean up the garage real quick.”

“Dad, I’m really exhausted, can you get Cas to do it?”

“It’s not like you to complain, come on now. He’s busy with the logs, come on it won’t take long.”

The alarm sounded.

“Never mind.” John says.

“Station 51, medical emergency. At the top of the Wells Fargo bank at 5535 Woodland Boulevard. Cross street Jackson Avenue.”

The men and women at station 51 jumped into action.

At the location they climbed up the stairs after they reached the max floor the elevator would allow to go.

“What happened?” John asked one of the men working on the roof.

“Jimmy was over the edge cleaning the windows and he let out a yell, and I saw him collapse. I tried getting him on this thing but it’s jammed.”

“We’ll get him, we’ll hoist one of my paramedics down to get a line on him and we’ll bring him up.” John assured.

“I’ll go.” Dean says.

“Why don’t we just swing the lift through a window?” Cas asks.

“There wouldn’t be a safe way to do it. Just, get me down to him. Drop a line for him and he’ll be up here before you can say Bobs your uncle.” Dean says.

“Just be careful man.” Cas says.

“I will dude.”

Dean has the ropes around him, his harness, Gabe, Michael and Raphael anchored his rope as they helped lower him down.

“Okay, more slack!” Dean shouts as he got closer to the victim.

He got safely on to the lift and began to work the rope around the victim so they could lift him up.

But Dean’s vision began to spin. His hands came up to hold the support of the lift.

“Dean, you okay!?” Cas shouts from the ledge.

“Yeah!”

Dean hurries to get the rope around the victim and tries to work on tying the knot.

His dizziness got worse, and worse. Just as he was about to ask for help, Dean passes out.

His body falling off of the lift, and hangs by his harness off of the ledge.

“Try lifting him up a bit!” Cas ordered.

The three brothers tried pulling the rope slightly.

Cas could see Dean wasn’t getting any higher.

“No, stop, he’s tangled. I’m gonna have to head down there.” Cas says.

He heads over to Charlie who handed him some rope, getting the lopes around him, and working his harness on.

Cas hurries over the ledge.

Gabe, Michael, and Raphael tied Dean’s rope to hold him steady as they lowered Cas down to the lift.

“More slack!” Cas ordered as he got closer.

Cas removed his work gloves to check the victims pulse.

“He’s in full cardiac arrest!” Cas shouts out, communicating.

Cas finishes what Dean had going. Connecting the loops around the victims arms and legs making a makeshift harness.

“Okay, lift him up!” Cas calls out.

The victim slowly rising as Gab, Michael and Raphael pulled the rope lifting the victim up.

“Dean, can you hear me man?” Cas asked, trying to lift Dean onto the lift.

He didn’t respond. He was out cold.

Cas furrowed his brow as he grew concerned for his friend.

“Okay, lift him up!” Cas ordered.

Cas seen the original victim made it over the ledge safely. And Dean began to slowly rise up to the top.

Once everyone was safely up, they got Cas up as well.

Cas helped with the cardiac victim while Charlie and the others assisted with Dean.

Y/N sat at the nurses station charting her days work about ready to head home when an ambulance and squad approached the door.

She quickly typed up her report, saving it and sending it to her Director, she went to assist the paramedics.

Her heart dropped when she saw one of the patients being wheeled in.

“Dean.”

“Patient one was DOA, heart attack. Dean has a fever of 104.” Cas says.

“Okay, there’s an exam room open, lets get him in there. I’ll page Dr. Singer.”

“Where’s Jack?” Cas asked.

“He’s sick too. He was about to treat Kelly and Chuck when he collapsed. His fever is 103 and climbing.”

“How is Chuck?”

“Not doing well. Let’s focus on Dean please.” Y/N said, keeping the tears of fear at bay.

Dean was all settled in a room later that night.

“Y/N.” Bobby says as he entered Dean’s room.

“Dr. Singer.”

“Your director doesn’t want you treating him. It’s against ethics.”

“I know. I’m off the clock.”

“Then what are you still doing here?”

“Oh, forgive me for staying by my boyfriend’s side.”

“Y/N, you’re D.O.N is on the other side of the this door. Relax.” He whispered.

“Bobby, I can’t think straight right now. I want to stay by his side, if that’s alright.”

“You can’t just stop everything because he’s sick. The CDC got back to us on the virus, you know this. It’s a strain of the Asian flu, a newer mutated strain. We have a drug we can use.”

She sighs, rubbing her face hard, trying to not get frustrated with herself.

“I know. I just want to know he’s going to be okay is all.”

“You love him. I know. But you have to still live life. Because that don’t stop. You got to keep going kid.”

She nods. “I’m guessing I can’t stay with him due to isolation protocol.”

“You got it. but once he’s better, you can.” She nods again.

“Please, keep me in the loop with him.”

“I’m sure Meg will. Cas was already on her case about him.”

She chuckles with a nod.

“Go home and rest. He’ll still be here tomorrow.”

She nods, leaving with a slump in her shoulders. Heading to her car. Driving quietly home.

It wasn’t until she got out of her shower, and laid in her empty bed did she let her walls come crumbling down.

A sob escaped from her, shaking her to her core.

“God, Dean. Please be okay.” She sobbed.

The next day, she heads into work trying to focus on her patients.

She learned from one of the over night nurses that Chuck passed away.

Her anxiety already being high enough with her boyfriend being sick with the same virus, but the same virus that killed a fireman.

She headed up to Dean’s room where Meg walked out. Sweating after being in her PPE for some period of time.

“How is he?” she asks.

“Not good. His fever is not even breaking. He had the first 100 Milligrams of Idoxuridine.”

“Has it been two hours?”

“Close, it’s been about an hour and fifty minutes since last dose.”

“Give him another dose of it. Same for Jack if he’s not getting better.”

“Sure thing, I’m sure Bobby will understand.”

Y/N nodded as Meg went back inside to give Dean another dose of the drug.

Y/N headed back to the nurses station to chart her first half of the shift when her D.O.N approached the desk.

“Y/N, I was told you were by Dean’s room yet again. This time on the clock.”

“Sorry Jody, I just—”

“It’s okay, really. Bobby can be a hard ass sometimes, and I know I can be too. But my husband gets sick really easily. And I’d do the same thing you’re doing.” She says.

“Thank you…” she hesitates.

“I have your replacement coming in so you can see him and be with him. Once Donna gets here, go to him.”

“Thank you, thank you.” She says, as tears rise to the surface.

“It’s not a problem.” Jody smiles.

Days pass as the doctors and nursing staff cared for Dean and Jack for the virus.

Y/N stayed day and night, her D.O.N giving her the week off on FMLA.

She had lost track of the days when she finally allowed herself to sleep.

Kelly was fully recovered and the doctors and nursing staff encouraged her to donate some blood so they can use her antibodies in her blood to donate to Dean and Jack so they have a fighting chance.

His fever finally broke, he was getting better. She could close her eyes and he’d still be there.

She woke that night to a hand on her head, playing with her hair.

She stirred awake to find Dean awake and well.

“Hey.” She says tiredly.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He answers. “Babe, did you stay here all day?”

“Dean, it’s been a week. You’ve been out for a week.”

“Damn…but still, you’ve been here all week?”

“Yes. You scared me.” She says. Taking his hand and placing it on her cheek.

His thumb brushing against her cheekbone. Catching a tear that fell.

“Well I’m sorry for scaring you. But you’re worrying me, did you take care of yourself while you were here?”

“Not really. Haven’t been hungry. I’m not sick or anything.”

“I know, you’ve told me that you’ll get this way. Either in a good way, like an innocent way of binging your favorite show and forgot to eat. Or in a bad way, like this.”

“Let me get Meg and tell her you’re awake.”

Just as she says that, Meg comes walking in.

“Jack’s awake…oh Dean’s awake too.” She says.

“Yeah, he is.” Y/N Says tiredly.

“I’ll get Dr. Singer so we can see when you can go home. And get Y/N to a bed, she hasn’t slept much since she stayed here.”

“Really, not eating or sleeping.”

“She was worked up. who could blame her?” Meg asked.

“True.”

Meg left the room to get Bobby.

Dean not saying a word, pulls Y/N’s arm guiding her in the bed with him.

She happily got in, curling into his side.

He felt a residual tremble shudder through her body.

“Shh, I’m here baby. I’m not going anywhere.” He says.

Not even a tiny virus would tear up this team.

A/N: Did you enjoy? How are you liking it so far? Favorites yet? Feedback is fuel and much appreciated. :3

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @mlovesstories, @akshi8278, @flamencodiva, @anotherspnfanfic, @megzdoodle, @lyarr24

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/23/2021

53 notes · View notes

rydeszegras · 4 years ago

Text

hospitals make miracles - r.donovan

hi guys ! this is my first fic and its not good whatsoever but figured id give it a shot haha, hope you enjoy !

wc: 1,623

warnings: minor swearing, mentions of injuries

you were a senior at andover high school on a roadie up to your annual trip in duluth. youve been taking this trip since your freshman year as you were one of the first players to ever make varsity as a freshman. that being said, this was your year, this was the year you had to show out. being named captain this season not only did you have to step up and lead the team, but you also had to focus on your game as it was your year to get scouted. you’d been looked at by minnesota-duluth, boston college, and minnesota, but all you wanted was to go to wisconsin, and this was your year to make it happen.

“y/n/n, are you ready to see all the hot duluth boys this weekend? i heard their varsity team plays at the same time of us and they have the wisco hot shot ryder donovan.” lilly said bouncing up and down in the seat next to you. you and lilly had been best friends ever since you met eachother at little wild camp 12 years ago. “y/n are you even listening”, “oh yeah sorry lil, just thinking about this weekend, did you know wisconsin scouts are gonna be there, i dont know if i can do this lil, i cant mess up, my future relies on this weekend” you exclaimed, trying not to freak out. “y/n/n you’ll be great i promise, but we should get some rest, weve still got 1.5 hours left and we’ve got a big game against east tonight.” you nod your head in agreement, dozing off into a deep sleep.

after an hour and a half of driving you arrive at the rink, getting up you fix your hair and adjust your sweats and parka and get ready to go grab your bag. after grabbing your bag, you start to head into the rink when you hear lil and ken start screaming, turning your head you see what all the fuss is about. and there he is. standing right before your eyes. ryder donovan. you’ve seen him in pictures as you followed him and some of his friends on instagram, but wow he was even prettier in person.

stumbling into the rink you make your way into the locker room gearing up to take the ice for warmups at duluth heritage. stepping onto the ice you complete your typical warmup of one-timers, slaps, and some stretching before noticing two big things in the stands. wisconsins top scout, and wisconsins top recruit, ryder. you didnt like it, but you just couldnt take your eyes off him.

the game begins and you take the ice playing your heart out making a clean goal through the five hole and racking in two more assists. after taking the ice to begin the last 20 mins of play, you get ready to take the faceoff for the third period. you win the faceoff clean and go to prepare to set yourself up to take a one-timer on the net. thats when tragedy strikes, when bringing your stick back to recieve the one-timer, before you know it you’re slammed into the boards on a cross check. tumbling down you hear a snap, a snap so loud that you watch the scout and ryder jump to their feet. as the athletic trainer scrambles to try and get you off the ice, you’re taken off the ice on a stretcher as you cant seem to put any weight on your right leg.

on the way to the hospital all you can think is why me, why now, why today. knowing it was probably your acl, you knew you were done for the season, that was it, it was over. scrolling through your twitter you saw your team won 5-2, which put your team in an excellent spot to start the season.

you arrived at the hospital and settled into your bed when a quite familiar but unfamiliar face walked into your toom. left speechless you see the 6’3 brunette standing in your doorway. “hey im ryder, i know you probably dont know me but i know you, you’re all the wisconsin scout has talked about for the past year and as im committed there i knew i had to see what the girls team is gonna have to offer and let me tell you, you looked incredible out there” ryder says shakily, messing with his fingers. you thank ryder and invite him into your room to sit on the chair. “trust me ryder i know you, youre all the girls have talked about after finding out that we played east this season, and youre committed to my dream school so theres that too, but theres no way the wisconsin scout wants anything to do with me, especially now that i have a double torn acl” you said, pointing down at your stitched up and wrapped knee, trying not to cry.

the next day, lil picked you up to bring you back to your hotel. on the car ride there you told her about everything that happened last night but when telling her you felt you sounded crazy, theres no way that thee ryder donovan went to visit YOU at the hospital and there’s absolutely no way that the wisconsin scout actually liked you. that was until you saw the instagram notification pop up on your screen... rydesdono would like to send you a message. you were shocked, theres no way that actually happened, but you opened the dm anyways to see what there was to say.

ryder donovan:

hey cutie, i never got your number last night and i was hoping we could catch up a little bit sometime if you feel up to it, i know with your knee it might not be easy, but i figured i would ask:)

you sat speechless. theres no way last night absolutely happened and there was absolutely no way he just called you “cutie”, but of course youre gonna meet up with ryder, no matter how much work it is

you:

hey rydes! id love to meet up with you again ! heres my number 952-***-****

thinking he might not actually text you because thats what hockey boys do, but sure enough you were proved wrong

maybe: ryder

hey y/n its ryder, pick you up at 6?

you:

absolutely, cant promise it’ll be easy with my knee and all, but i’ll make it work:))

rydes:

how about i pick us up food and bring it back to your hotel room, that way you can still have dinner with me but you can rest your knee at the same time;)

you:

that sounds great, ill make sure to leave the door unlocked

speechless you instantly call lilly and tell her everything, who freaks out the second you mention his name. as much as she doesnt believe it, you dont either. how is it that getting injured led you to a hot shot hockey player that is committed to the same school you are (yep thats right, wisco gave you an offer!!), one who’s actually genuine and nice AND insanely attractive. its mind blowing, but knowing theres no way this goes anywhere, as youd have to take the 2 hour drive back to andover in two days and probably wouldnt see ryder again until next year when you were both at wisconsin.

about an hour and a half later you hear two quiet knocks at your door, yelling “come in” at the sound. from your bed you see the cute hockey player who walks in from the doorway carrying the bag of food he got from grandmas, which happened to be your favorite restaurant in duluth. ryder sets the food on the table getting your food prepared so you didnt have to get up. he brings your food over to you and you invite him to sit next to you on your bed. you turned on your tv to the umd vs minnesota game as you rest your head on ryder who had just put his arm around you after you both finished eating. after talking for hours, that really felt like 10 mins, ryder decided that he should probably get back home and even if you didnt want him to go, you agreed.

for weeks after that you and ryder talked and talked for hours on end nonstop whether it was through snapchat, messages, or facetime. even though you only lived two hours apart, your schedules clashed too much to ever be able to meet up with eachother again. eventually after a year later you had completed your physical therapy and were ready to start your first year as a badger, but most importantly you were eager for ryder to get into town so you could hug the gorgeous brunette again.

when arriving at labahn, you were preparing yourself for the first day of practice and your next meet up with ryder, as the boys were using labahn as well as kohl center was undergoing some remodeling. you pull your bag out of your grand cherokee when you saw the brunette, and just like the first time you saw him your heart stopped. dropping your bag you ran in a dead sprint to see him as he dropped his bag and ran towards you wrapping his arms around your shoulders as if its been decades since youve last seen him as he held you for what felt like forever, when ryder whispered into your ear, “so hospitals really do make miracles happen” as he picked you up to kiss you before making your way into practice, knowing that without your injury you may have never found eachother the way you did.

#ryder donovan #ryder donovan fluff #nhl #vegas golden knights #wisco hockey #nhl imagine #ryder donovan imagine #rydesdono #college hockey

79 notes · View notes

soundsof71 · 4 years ago

Note

for the album thing: born in the usa :)

I could write a book about any of Bruce’s records from Born To Run to Born In The USA. I did in fact write my grad school thesis using Nebraska as the hook: ”Vehicles of Grace: Automobile Imagery and Salvation in the works of Bruce Springsteen and Flannery O’Connor” LOL which is one million percent true.

In fact, I bought Nebraska on my first day of class in grad school (a whole story by itself), and BITUSA came out as I was finishing my coursework two years later. It’s hard to overstate how hard this one hit, but my reaction was kind of complicated, so I’ll tell ya all about it.

the first song from this album I heard: “Dancing In The Dark”, which came out as a single before the album. Followed immediately by “Pink Cadillac”, its b-side. We played the SHIT out of that song in particular, far more than the A side, and were dumbfounded that it wasn’t on the album.

do I own the album?: Obvs, but there’s a story. Of course. My girlfriend and I bought it on vinyl the day it came out in June (we weren’t married yet, but we’d merged our record collections the previous year LOL), then for my birthday in August, she bought me a CD player for like $800 (they were expensive as FUCK when they first came out -- and $800 was even more of a fuckton of money back in those days, especially for a couple of grad students), with one CD, Born In The USA. That one CD was more than reason enough to spend the dough on a player.

I still have that CD, along with the ticket for show where we saw Bruce on our honeymoon in England, at St. James Park in Newcastle, in June 1985. He’d just gotten married too (the first time), which is a whole ‘nother story too. Oh, and I still have the sweatshirt from that show! I'll post a picture of all this some time.

my favorite song: Wellll....here’s where it gets kinda complicated. Bruce had a notoriously hard time picking songs for the record. He’d recorded something like 50 songs for the album, and once he cut the list to 30 or so, he kept asking people he trusted to pick THEIR favorite running order. (Dave Marsh talked about this in his book Glory Days: Bruce Springsteen in the 1980s, and I haven’t heard it much discussed since then.) It’s hard to argue with the finished results, but you know what? I kinda do, still, all these years later. LOL

My favorite song OF the album, no question, is “Shut Out The Light”. (Check my tag for this song to hear some more about it.) It was first released as the b-side to the 7 inch single of “Born In The USA” (remarkably, the third single from the record), and wouldn’t show up on CD until 1998 on the Tracks anthology. Tracks was 4 CDs in all (should probably have been 6 discs, and COULD have been 10), but I bought the whole thing for THIS.

youtube

My favorite song ON the album: “Downbound Train.”

my least favorite song: “Darlington County”.

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: “Dancing In The Dark”. I’m not alone in this. Miami Steve famously HATED the song at first, and only came to appreciate it after years of playing it live. I still remember never more eagerly anticipating an album in my life, and never being more upset by the advance single. I was devastated.

Here’s why. Born to Run came out when I was 15. “Gotta get out while we’re young!” The romance of escape, with the last two songs, still grandly romantic, hinting at its costs.

Darkness came out when I was 17. Narrator: “They did not escape.” LOL Ghosts, bitterness, compulsion, cursed by God. His estranged wife’s eyes “filed with hate for just being born”, while “Tonight I’ll be on that hill ‘cause I can’t stop.”

The closest thing to hope: a whispered “Tonight my baby and me are gonna ride to the sea / and wash these sins from our hands.” I was a senior in high school and the dream was already dead. Awesome. LOL

The River came out when I was 20. The only hope is domesticity. Too bad that it’s suffocating and you’ll fuck it up. LOL Want to wash the sins from your hands? Sorry, the river is dry. “Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true / Or is it something worse./ that sends me down to the river?” Yikes!

The shows for this album were astounding. The album was soooo much darker than it first appeared, and the catharsis in the performance was rewarding, sure, but almost unbearable. You were left broken and crawling by the end of the night. In a good way. LOL

Nebraska came out when I was 22. Murder, mental illness, ghosts, more murder, compulsion, and as a treat, a little more murder. LOL

The one song I couldn’t stand was “Reason To Believe”, because I didn’t believe there was one, and I didn’t believe he did either. But boy did I love the album as a whole. Like I said, my grad school thesis started here, because I had too much to say about Nebraska and the sweep of Bruce’s literary roots and spiritual impulses NOT to write about it.

(Not shockingly in retrospect, and a blessing for us all that he went through with it and is still at it, but Bruce’s therapy started here too.)

So from 1975 to 1984, things got darker and darker and darker. It was beautiful. LOL And hey, this was MY LIFE we’re talking about, too! From 15 to 24, I was listening to Born To Run, Darkness, The River, and Nebraska practically on a loop, and the more hopeful stuff was becoming less and less resonant.

Sure, there was Rosalita and Thunder Road and Badlands, plenty of dancing and pumping fists, but I was dwelling in darkness, and living for it. On my best days, I was wounded, not even dead LOL but I barely listened to Born to Run by the end of this span. It was mostly Darkness and Nebraska.

I couldn’t wait to hear what was coming after the highest body count in recorded history on that album. LOL I knew it wouldn’t be acoustic again, but man, he was cutting closer and closer to the bone each time out. How much farther could he possibly go?

And it was....Dancing In The Dark? What the actual FUCK? Practically fucking disco or something? WHA....? I loved dance music, especially in the 80s, but I didn’t need it from Bruce. I had that from other people. Oh well, at least the b-side was cool, so maybe the album won’t bite. LOL BUT THEN PINK CADILLAC WASN’T ON THE ALBUM. FUCK.

The album didn't bite, of course, but it took a looooong time to get over this huge dual disappointment of a chirpy disco single by an artist I barely recognized, and whom I now felt I could no longer trust to manage his own creative mission.

My wife wrapped her head around it first (as is usually the case LOL). She dug it as the closest Bruce had yet come to putting his actual self in a song. The narrator is a writer, anyway, unlike every other song he’d ever written about jobs he never held for a single second (an observation that would form the bedrock of Springsteen on Broadway 40 years later).

Now, I totally dig it. If you’re naughty enough, I might even post my ukulele cover of Dancing In The Dark. LOL

a song I used to like, but now don’t: None. The songs I loved, which is most of ‘em honestly, I still do. Everything about this album has gotten better with time for me, and nothing about it has gotten less so.

my favorite lyric:

From “Shut Out The Light”: Oh mama mama mama come quick I've got the shakes and I'm gonna be sick Throw your arms around me in the cold dark night Hey now mama don't shut out the light

From “Downbound Train” The room was dark. Our bed was empty Then I heard that long whistle whine And I dropped to my knees, hung my head, and cried

Bruce was gonna try to give me a happier record, but I was having none of it. LOL

For the record, “Downbound Train” is my wife’s favorite track on the record by FAR, at least partly because it sounds like a band version of a song that could have followed Nebraska. I prefer Shut Out The Light because I heard the story of my own mental illness in it for the first time, but yeah, Downbound Train is amazing.

I only saw it live once at the time (in Newcastle, June 4, ‘85), but it really comes to live onstage -- true for all of Bruce of course, but this album more than any other imo.

youtube

overall rating out of 10: Then: 8. Now: 9.2. The shows were unbelievably good (we saw three shows in three different countries on that tour) and it sold a buttload, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that after the run of Darkness - The River - Nebraska, that this was a missed opportunity at best.

Time and distance heals all LOL and I now love it. Not more than the four before it, but more than anything since. A masterpiece, by any standard.

#bruce springsteen #born in the usa #shut out the light #dancing in the dark #nebraska #ask #essay #downbound train #darkness on the edge of town #Anonymous #youtube

64 notes · View notes

sunmoon-starfactory · 4 years ago

Photo

Counting Sheep - Sheep Livestock

Yes, they’re finally here after working all the mats from their wool! Sims can now raise and breed sheep for meat, wool, and milk products. Like other livestock sets, they have to be taken car of, will age and die, and even have accidents.

Please see below the cut for details and instructions.

Download - SFS

Download/View More - The Keep

REQUIRED SETS:

•Makin' Hay - For Trough Feeding •Fetch Water - For Trough Watering, Fetch Water Rock

Extra Credits and Thanks: TaraTrue, Midgethetree, Fire_flower, rugrat0ne, crowderhead, Sunni, Kativip, Skyrim, Daz3d, Thunderwitch, Lady Lama.

ALL SHEEP... • May be purchased directly from the buy catalog in Hobbies -> Miscellaneous. • Change body position every 15 Sim minutes. Sheep alternate between standing and laying. • Are NOT NPCs, but objects. These will not conflict with Becks animated farm animals and they may also be safely removed from your game at any time. • Live sheep may be raised and sold for profit; Sheep carcasses may be sold for profit or used to stock the refrigerator. • Must be fed and watered daily. There are several food and water options for sheep: Grazing Grass OR Food and Water Troughs. Sheep check the lot each morning for sustenance. If there is no available food and water the animals will become ill. If the troughs are not filled within 12 Sim hours they will die. Sick sheep have no interactions other than "Inspect". All sheep that die of starvation will immediately disappear from the lot and cannot be claimed as food. • Defecate once per day. • Age and eventually die randomly. • May be picked up and placed into personal inventory by teens through elders. • May be stolen by visitors. Advertising is low for Sims with bad moods, mean personality and hunger. Be sure to keep your livestock secure within a locked gate or barn if you do not want them stolen. Stolen livestock cannot be retrieved unless you literally open the thief's inventory and remove the items. • All livestock sheep are slaved to the Ewe. LAMBS • When lambs are born they take their mothers texture. When the lamb "grows up" it will continue to keep it's chosen texture. This makes it easy to create entire herds of the same breed without needing to constantly recolor the animals during their life changes. • Mature in 20 Sim days. • After the first 10 days there is a coin flip for death. This is to account for accidents, illness and predators. If a lamb meets with an untimely demise, a pop up message will appear as the lamb disappears from the lot. • Will autonomously "grow up" and randomly select male or female sex at that point. • Interactions include: - Talk to Lamb = Children Only; Non-Autonomous; Increases fun and social motives - View Lamb = Teen through elder; Non-Autonomous; Increases fun and social motives - Slaughter Lamb = Automatically places a lamb carcass into Sim's personal inventory (or business owner); teen through elder. RAMS • Interactions include: - Talk to Ram = Children only; Non-Autonomous; Increases social and fun motives - Praise Ram = Teens through Elder; Non-Autonomous; Increases social and fun motives - Inspect Ram = Sims can evaluate the ram to determine its quality. Unless a ram is sick from starvation it will be in good condition. Non-Autonomous; teen through elder. - Slaughter Ram = Automatically places a sheep carcass into Sim's personal inventory (or business owner); teen through elder. • Every 20 Sim days will be a random coin flip for death. EWES • Will not lactate until they've delivered a lamb. • Have a 50% chance of pregnancy each day when a ram is present on the lot. • Pregnancy lasts 15 Sim days. • Ewes give birth to a random number of lambs between 1 to 2 at a time. These will automatically appear around the mother along with a pop-up message that lambs have arrived. • Ewes can get pregnant while they are already lactating from their previous pregnancy, although the chance is lower. Lactation lasts for 20 Sim days. If a ewe fails to become pregnant while lactating, she will become dry again. • Same Interactions as Rams except: - Ewes cannot be slaughtered during pregnancy. - Inspecting a Ewe will tell you if she is currently pregnant or not. - Ewes can be milked once daily when lactating by teens through elders. A Milk Can will automatically be placed into the Sim's personal or business inventory. FORCE OPTIONS If you don't want to wait for your sheep to autonomously mate, get pregnant, have offspring, grow up and die, you can select to use the "Force" options on the pie menu. These will immediately cause the following to happen: - Have a Lamb - Grow Up Lamb - Die - Milk Ewe RECOLORS Both the sheep bodies and wool can be recolored independently from each other when you're choosing it from the catalog. Recolors should keep through generations.

FOOD & WATER OPTIONS

GRAZING GRASS

Available in 3 styles to be placed in your paddocks. This 4x4 tiled grass patch is animated. Each day a little disappears and then grows back at the beginning of the next season. Grazing Grass is functional from Spring through Fall and goes dormant in the winter (totally disappears). If you use Grazing Grass somewhere on your lot, then you won't need to feed your livestock with hay in the troughs separately each day until winter. You can select all 3 styles, but you just need any ONE on the lot to feed the livestock. Grazing Grass is included with this set.

FETCH WATER ROCK

Placing this rock next to a body of water will fulfill the livestock's water needs spring through fall seasons.

FOOD & WATER TROUGHS

While you can choose to use the troughs year round, it is especially vital to keep them filled during the winter season when grass is dormant and lakes or ponds are frozen.

• 1 bale of Hay is required to fill the food trough

• 1 bucket of Water is required to fill the water trough

• Food trough is slaved to the water trough and there are 5 included wood textures.

• Every 36 hours the troughs need to be filled.

• Children through elders can autonomously fill the troughs if the required items are in their personal inventory.

AUTONOMOUS FEEDING

Sims that carry the Empty Bucket in their personal inventory will autonomously fill the water trough, while Sims that carry the Pitchfork in their personal inventory will autonomously fill the food trough. In a Sim owned business the required hay and water will be deducted from the owner's inventory.

PRODUCTS SHEEP AND LAMB CARCASS All slaughtered adult sheep use the same carcass in inventory which has several recolors.The carcass can be used to stock the fridge, sold for profit or used in the butcher station. All slaughtered lambs drop a carcass that is slaved to the adult carcass. WOOL Adult sheep placed in Spring or Summer will not have their wool coats. They will grow wool in autumn and keep it all the way through spring. During spring only, the adult sheep can be shorn for a bag of wool only once. They may be sheared even if they become sickly. Shearing is not an available action in Summer/Fall/Winter, even if you failed to shear in Spring. MILK CAN An animal specific milk can is placed into the Sim's personal (or business owners) inventory when the animal is milked. The milk can does not spoil, so it can be stored or sold for profit. Recolors of the milk can are included.There is a pie menu on the milk can that offers two options: Separate Milk & Cream or Serve Milk. SEPARATE MILK & CREAM Opting to separate the milk from the cream provides the user with two non-specific animal items that can be used to stock the fridge or sold for profit. You will need the Jar of Cream for making BUTTER, while the Milk Bottle will be needed for various BAKING stations. Recolors of the jar and bottle are included. SERVE MILK This option allows the user to select one of 5 milk pitchers that provides an 8-serving edible milk meal. Sims can sit, chat and drink their milk while it boosts their hunger and energy motives. When a Sim is finished with their drink they will take the cup to a sink and wash it. Each pitcher has several included recolors. Cups are slaved to the pitcher and will match the texture when a Sim grabs a drink. The Retro and Modern "pitchers" both use a clear glass cup.

AUTONOMOUS MILKING Sims that carry the empty Milk Pail in their inventory will autonomously milk the ewe when she's ready. Purchase the pail in the buy catalog under Hobbies->Miscellaneous. AUTONOMOUS SHEARING Sims that carry Shears in their inventory will autonomously shear adult sheep in the Spring. Purchase the shears in the buy catalog under Hobbies->Miscellaneous, or from the local Metalsmith. DUNG COLLECTION & REMOVAL • Children through elders can non-autonomously rake up dung = dispose of it • Children through elders can non-autonomously collect dung. • If a Sim has a Slop Bucket in their inventory then they will autonomously collect dung. • If a Sim has a Dung Rake in their inventory then they will autonomously dispose of dung. • You can have both slop buckets and dung rakes in a Sim's inventory and they will randomly choose which action to perform autonomously. If you only want them to either collect or dispose then only place the corresponding tool into their inventory. • If no one collects or disposes of dung within 36 hours it will disappear from the lot on its own. • Purchase Rakes and Buckets in the buy catalog under Hobbies->Miscellaneous

LITTLE TOUCHES

• All items visible in hood view • Most items found in the buy catalog under Hobbies -> Miscellaneous • Grass Patches can be found in the build catalog under Gardening -> Garden • Exception the carcasses and milk products are not purchasable from the catalog. • Most items in this set may be recolored including sheep, troughs and milk products. •Collection file included •Compressorized DUPLICATE FILES •All Milk Files - These are the same that exist in any previous Livestock set and has not been changed save for renamed. You may delete the whole folder if you have a previous set. • Grazing Grass Files - These are also teh same files that exist in all other Livestock sets. No changes at all, not even in name. Whole folder may be deleted. • Inventory Tools: Pitchfork, Dung Rake - These are the updated version found in the Metalsmith set. If you've updated to those files, you don't need any here.

#ts2 #ts2cc #s2cc #the sims 2 #sims 2 #sims2 #download #custom content #cc #mod #crafting station #star factory #sun&moon

220 notes · View notes

nahoyaglock · 4 years ago

Text

📃 AS I AM CHAPTER 3 — Discovery

SUMMARY — You knew Kageyama Tobio since you both were in diapers, being close family 'friends'. You always wanted to befriend the quiet kid but no matter your efforts, he would never crack. When you transfer schools and meet Kageyama again, what will happen to your relationship?

PAIRING — family friend!kageyama x y/n

GENRE — fluff/crack/angst

WARNINGS — kags being a bigger meanie

WORD COUNT — 2.6k

FIND THE MASTERLIST HERE

It has been about more than two weeks since your first day at Karasuno, already creating good bonds with Hinata, Nishinoya, Yamaguchi, and even Tsukishima. You were pretty close to all of them, spending alot of time together at lunch or after school, and even during the weekend. They wanted you to feel welcome, after all, you even had a little text group chat.

(Sent October 10th at 11:15 am)

Y/N: [Good morning yall, and happy birthday noya!]

Shoyo: [HAPPY BIRTHDAY NOYA!]

Tadashi: [goodmorning and happy bday!]

Tsukki: [morning, happy birthday]

Noya: [GOOD MORNING, AND THANKS GUYS!]

You smiled down at your phone before shutting it off. Since it was Noyas birthday, your mom let him and your friends come over, it also being a Saturday. You planned to have a sleepover with your new friends, Kageyama, and Tanaka of course. You had finished cleaning your living room, and despite it being small, it was big enough to fit a bunch of enthusiastic dorks, and Tsukishima.

You had begun cooking lunch, making sandwiches for you and Hinata, who was already on his way to your house. "Good morning honey," your mom spoke softly, rubbing her eyes as she walked past you to the coffee maker. "Good morning mom, Hinatas on his way here already," you smile and finish the sandwiches, putting them on a plate and walking to the living room.

"Okay, I have work today so ill be out for a little bit, tell Nishinoya I said happy birthday and Kageyama I said hello," she chuckled as she started the machine. You nodded and heard the doorbell ring, causing you to sit up and smile in excitement, placing the play down on the couch. "Thats Shoyo!"

You hop to the front door and immediately unlock the door, greeting the orange haired male with a smile that was matching his. "Hey y/n!" He greets and you let him in, closing the door behind himself. "Hi Shoyo, I made lunch," you say and lead him to the living room. "Wow, your house is really cute," he giggles and sets his bags and blanket in the corner next to the couch.

"Im glad you think so, I think Tanaka is arriving next, but i could be wrong," you say and plot down on the couch, hinata following your movements. "When is Kageyama coming?" He asks and rests his head on your shoulder, head tilted so he can look at you, but you just shrug. "He hasn't answered me since I sent him the invite yesterday," you say before handing him the plate and taking your sandwich.

"What? He answered me this morning," Hinata said and pulled his phone out of his pocket, going to his text messages with Kageyama. "Yeah, he texted me this morning, asked if i was coming to the sleepover," he said and you sae him typing on his screen. You felt hurt, Kageyama always answered you, whether it was one word, or even one letter, he always answered.

"Ah, he might've forgotten, i wont hold it against him," you smiled and decided to shake it off, it was Noyas birthday and you were ready to have fun. You and Hinata watched a bit of Netflix and ate a bit more than just the sandwhiches you made. It had been about more than an hour since the next person appeared, hearing the doorbell ring as you were in the middle of showing Hinata baby pictures of you and Kageyama.

"Ah, I bet its Tsukishima and Tadashi! Or just Tadashi!" Hinata shouts, jumping up, you following after him with a big goofy smile on your face as you both run to the door. "Its definitely Tanaka! Im calling it!" You laugh, barely able to keep up with the small male as he opens the door. As you looked at the male at the door, you and Hinata both shouted at the same time.

"Tadashi!"

"Tanaka!"

"K-kageyama?" You questioned and Hinata sighed, walking back to your room, sulking. "Its just Kageyama," he complaimed and Kageyama glared at him. "Whats that supposed to mean dumbass!" You let him in and close the door behind him as he kicks off his shoes. "Kags, you didnt bring any bags? Like, more than one?" You ask and walk to your room, seeing him hesitate to say respond.

"I'm not staying over. I just wanted to wish Nishinoya a happy birthday, i thought more people would be here by now," he nonchalantly responds, almost irritating you. "Well, you could've answered my text with a yes or no, or tell me that," you say and turn to face him, kicking his ankle softly. "Sorry," he muttered.

You entered your room with Kageyama and saw Hinata checking out your wall of pictures, filled with pictures of you and kageyama as children, you and your mom, and your friends from Nekoma. "Hey, is that Kenma?" He asked, turning his head to look at you and Kageyama with a curious face.

"Oh, yeah it is," you answer and walk over to the spot next to hinata. "Ah, Inuoka! Lev!" He exclaims with a excited expression, carefully scanning the pictures. "Is this the Nekoma volleyball club?" He asked, looking up at you with admiration as you confirm that it is.

"Thats so cool! You know Kuroo?!" He said, looking at another photo, one dear to your heart. It was the last time you saw them, you had a sleepover at Kuroos house, all the boys attending. You were wrapped in Kuroo and Inuokas arms, the 2nd years sitting on the couch in the back with the rest of the members asleep, or running around.

"Yeah, he acts like my brother sometimes. This was from our last sleepover before i came here," you state and he puts it back in his place when he hears the doorbell. "Okay, this time its DEFINITELY Tanaka!" You slap Hinatas arm and you two, once again, race to the front door. "Its gotta be Tadashi!" He once again opens the door to be met with Tanaka, causing you to shout in glory, hinata groaning.

"Uh, hello to you too," he laughs and steps over Hinata who dramatically fell to his knees. "Sorry, we were betting on who would arrive next," you laughed as he put his stuff next to Hinatas and saw Kageyama come out of your room. "Hey Tanaka," he greeted and you all sat on the couch, continuing the movie you and Hinata had started. After about 30 minutes more, there was a knock on the door.

"Thats definently Tsukishima," You say and Hinata nods as you stand up to open the door, greeting the tall blonde, noticing Tadashi and Noya behind him. "Hey Tsukki, Tadashi, and happy birthday Noya!" You greet, patting Tsukishimas arm and hugging the last two. "Everyones here, so lets get started, hmm?"

As everyone gets their stuff situated, you head to your room to get your phone and order some take out and remind your mom to get a cake before heading back out to your friends. "Noya, you ca– Noya?" You giggled softly, seeing him wrapped in a giant fluffy blanket, and he smiles. "Yes?"

"Ah, I was gonna say you can choose a movie, unless you wanna do anything else before the food arrives," you bounce before taking a seat between Tsukishima and Hinata. "Movie please, i dont want to even know what hes thinking right now," Tsukishima said, his expression was serious. You elbow him with a chuckle that follows, "its his birthday, cut him some slack."

You all decided to play a few games with an old movie playing as background noise. Truth or dare, would you rather, never have I ever, and some board games, Tsukishima winning monopoly. He was currently boasting to Kageyama with a smug look on his face as the doorbell rang.

"Food!" You shouted and jumped up to answer the door, quickly paying for the food and closing the door before bringing it to the small coffee table in your living room. "Also my mom should be home in a few minutes so call down with all the cursing Tanaka," you laughed and opened the food boxes before grabbing some plates and utensils for them to serve themselves.

You guys ate and finally put on a movie, moving the coffee table to you, Noya, Tanaka, Tadashi, and Hinata could all huddle up on the floor infront of the tv, leaving Tsukishima and Kageyama on the couch. "Hey, im home honey. Hi boys," your mom called, a big bag in hands as she slipped off her shoes. "Hi y/ns mom!" Noya called and she brought the cake over to you.

"Happy birthday Noya, and hello Kageyama, its been a while since ive seen you, you're so big," your mom patted his shoulder and he nodded. "Hello Mrs. y/l/n," he spoke politely as Tsukishima quietly laughed at him. "Behave okay? Im heading to bed. Oh, and Kageyama, your mother invited us over tomorrow so i can take you home tomorrow, " she flashed a warm smile and your face lit up as you sat up from the cuddle pile.

"I haven't been to your house in years," you exclaim and placed a hand on Kageyamas knee, giggling. He shifted a bit, causing your hand to fall and he hummed, "because Tokyo is far." You roll your eyes and lay down back between Nishinoya and Hinata. "And im not sleeping over, my moms coming in 10 minutes to pick me up."

"Ah, well either way, ill see you tomorrow Tobio," your mom waved and left to her room. It was silent as you guys kept your eyes glued to the screen. Eventually Kageyama left, so Tsukishima joined the cuddle pile until you guys got tired. Hinata and Tadashi took the couch, Tanaka and Nishinoya draped over each other near the couch, Tsukishima laying next to you on the blanket that covered the itchy carpet.

You sat up, on your phone after your friends from Nekoma decided to blow up your phone.

"You still awake?" You jumped at the voice, thinking everyone was asleep, and you turned to the voice to see the salty blonde slipping on his glasses. "Yeah, my friends texted me," you whispered before turning off your phone, the room being engulfed by darkness and you took your spot next to Tsukishima. "So you and Kageyama?" He propped his head up on his hand as he looked at you.

"Yeah, he's weird. He hasn't been talking to me that much the past few weeks." You rest your head on the pillow and pull the blanket up over you. Tsukishima hums lightly before fixing his pillow, "is he always like this? He doesnt seem that way around the team."

"I guess? Hes always been dry and stand offish since we were children, but to other people he was different." You felt tired, and Tsukishima could sense it. "Rest, worry your head tomorrow." He pats your head before taking his glasses back off and lays down, you smile. "Thanks Tsukki."

"Dont call me that."

—

Once it became morning, Tanaka and Nishinoya were the firsts to leave, followed by Tadashi. You had just come out of the shower, finding Hinata folding his blankets and cleaning up the living room, and Tsukishima talking to your mom in the kitchen as he helped wash dishes. "Good morning mom," you yawned and grabbed a key from one of the drawers. "Im gonna stop by the store, wanna come with Tsukki? Hinata?"

Tsukishima looked at your mom and she nodded, telling him it was okay and that she'd finish the dishes on her own. You left the house with the two males, taking the short walk to the store. "You're going to Kageyamas right?" Hinata asked, bouncing to keep warm in the cold air. You nod and swing the keys around your finger, "yeah, in a few hours, oh! Let me text him."

(Sent October 11th at 1:17 pm)

Y/N: [Morning Tobio!]

[I'll see you in a few hours!]

As you waited for his answer, Tsukishima spoke up. "Not to.. seem like im putting you on the spot but.. doesn't he ignore you?" He kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze forward and Hinata gasped, "Tsukki that sounds mean!" He smacked his arm, causing the taller to look down at him. "I'm just saying that its not the best way to treat someone," he rolls his eyes and Hinata scoffs. "As if you can talk."

You sigh and laugh, placing a hand on both the males arms, "calm down you two, geez." They relax in your touch and Tsukishima continues. "Seriously tho, he could be just, y'know.. being a bitch," he he spoke, putting an emphasis on bitch. "Or he could be hiding something!" Hinata gasps and you laugh at them. "Yeah yeah, but its whatever really, this is how ive always seen Tobio, it'd be weird if he was any different. Though id like it alot if he DID be a little less dry."

You remembered the talk you and Tsukishkma had before, he always brought up Kageyama and your relationship with him. Soon you started to think the same was he did. Was Kageyama really just being mean? Isnt that just how he always is? Why does he act different around others? Was it you, or was it him?

—

You kicked off your shoes as you stepped into the warm house with a bright smile, "hello Mrs. Kageyama!" You greeted as she pulled you into a hug. "Hello y/n, my you've grown! Tobio is in his room, can you take him his plate? This one is your" She said and handed you two plates. You smiled and nodded your head like a gibby child and she patted your back as you made youe way to Kageyamas room. You kicked on the door because your arms were occupied.

You heard a bed creak and a few seconds after, the door opened and was almost closed back in your face if it weren't for him catching a glimpse at the plates. "Come in," he mumbled and let you in. You walked over to his bed and put his plate down on his bed and sat on the end as he closed the door. "Wow, your room has changed alot," you smile and look around the room at his posters and pictures on the walls.

"Mhm," he plopped back down on his bed and went on his phone. You noticed this and furrowed your brows, taking a bite of your food. "You know, for someone on their phone alot, you sure do ignore my texts alot," you mainly joked, but you guessed that he didnt catch on when his expression changed and he mumbled an apology. Was that guilt on his face?

You decided to stay silent and just scroll through social media and eat your food. After a few minutes of just silence, Kageyama finished his plate and got up to take it upstairs. "Hey Kags," you called before he left and you held your plate out to him, "can you take this for me?"

"You barely ate any thing," he said and you shook the plate a little bit, causing him to grab it, scared it would fall. "I'll bring you a meatbun," he murmured and left the room. You smiled slightly at the mention of meatbuns, and stood up to stretch your legs.

You grabbed a napkin from Kageyamas bedside dresser and wiped any food off of your mouth. He had a small trash bin in the corner of his room, so you went to throw away your napkin, looking at his posters and pictures on the wall. When you opened the bin, there was a large stack of pictures atop all of the trash.

All being pictures that had you and him in them.

#as i am*series #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio au #kageyama tobio fanfic #haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic

32 notes · View notes