#maybe flu shot yesterday

[raeathnos]

.

[ssahotchnerr]

👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!

like dad does

aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3

you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.

likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.

but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.

"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."

"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"

"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"

he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.

"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"

"a meeting."

your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"

jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."

his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.

"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."

your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"

he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.

"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."

"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.

"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."

you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.

it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.

and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.

you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.

"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.

"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"

"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."

[m0llygunn]

deathbed confessions (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: cold and flu season hits you hard but luckily you have your best friend eddie to take care of you. If the cold medicine makes you admit a few things... eddie sure isn't complaining.

contents: 18+, best friends to lovers, r is dramatically sick with a cold (talks about dying but it's just drama), fluff idk a/n: guys i am so sick help me i had to lay on the bathroom floor after braving a shower because i thought i was gonna die (but also i wrote this so maybe im ok) wc: 4.4k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Holy shit, did Halloween come early?” Eddie snickers from the door of your room.

All you can muster up is a low groan and that alone makes you feel like your head is on the brink of explosion. 

“Jesus, you’re really sick, huh?” he says with the huff of a laugh.

You answer with another groan. Yes. You are 'really sick'.

“Can I do something to help?” he replies, the first hint of empathy appearing in his voice.

“Put me out—” you interrupt yourself with a sniffle followed by a phlegmy cough. “—out of my misery.”

You were supposed to be seeing some double feature with Eddie tonight but yesterday, right before bed, you felt the slightest of tickles in your throat. By morning you were the living dead with everything from your big toe to your forehead aching in one way or another. You called Eddie and before you could even mention that you were sick, he knew from your stuffed up voice. 

No matter how many times you told him you’d be fine he was strangely insistent in checking on you at the very least. By the end of the call he’d quickly worn you down and you told him that he has the spare key and he can do whatever he wants but if he gets sick that's his fault— a little mean but arguing was the last thing you felt like doing.

From the time you hung up to now— which has only been a handful of hours, you’ve gotten substantially worse. Earth shatteringly worse. So terribly worse that the simple task of opening your eyes has been too much effort. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and your lungs are just begging for salvation. That’s why when Eddie called twenty minutes ago letting you know he was on his way you told him no. It would have been wise if he listened to you but instead he replied ‘too bad’ and abruptly hung up the phone. 

Cut to twenty minutes later he was at your door, letting himself in. He was willingly walking into his very own death sentence. He clearly thought it was more of a joke than anything.

You hear Eddie’s tell-tale gait as he walks further into your room. You assume that he’s standing over your bed, maybe a hand on the back of his neck, maybe a hand on his hip. Mustering the efforts to confirm your suspicions would take too much of your very limited energy so you continuing laying in your bed, not doing as much as opening an eye.

You hear the ruffle of his hair and he definitely is rubbing the back of his neck as he gauges what to do. 

“So…do you want, like, medicine then?” he asks. 

“A gun,” you croak, earning a deep belly laugh from Eddie.

“At least your humour’s still intact, that’s good to know,” he says, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

You try to shuffle over to make room for him, but that effort alone makes you wince.

“Call an ambulance,” you whine, sniffling pathetically. 

“Really?” he asks, a genuine nervousness creeping into his voice. You feel his hand tug at the blanket you’ve cocooned yourself in, revealing your face for him to see. If you were more cognizant maybe you’d care about Eddie seeing you like this, but you’re too far gone to think about that. 

“No,” you answer, nodding your head up and down in contrast to your answer, earning a huff of relief from Eddie. 

The blanket slackens from his pull and the bed dips deeper as he leans in further to get a better look at you. Once again, if you were more cognizant you’d probably rather he didn’t, but you wouldn’t have the will to fight it anyways.

“Did you take anything?” he asks. 

“It’s been a few hours.”

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah, whipped up a quick 4 course meal earlier, michelin approved of course,” you mumble. You contemplate cracking an eye open to see his reaction but you don’t. 

“Right, so no food.” 

“No, surprisingly not that hungry when you’re on your deathbed,” you say, sniffling.

“Tell me you’ve at least had water,” he says and from his tone you know that he already knows the answer. 

“I had water until the bottle was empty, then I decided I’d rather succumb to death than get out of bed,”

“Funny, funny girl,” he says dryly, obviously not impressed by your answers. 

“Tombstone quote,” you say weakly, hoping that Eddie gets what you mean. He laughs softly and you consider that enough of a success. 

You hear the slightest bit of shuffling, not Eddie getting up but more like he’s looking around your room. Whatever state it’s in, you couldn’t even work up the courage to care. 

“Do you want a movie on or something?” he asks, breaking the lull in conversation. 

“Would you do that?” you ask, tilting your face towards him despite not opening your eyes. 

“Oh yeah. I’m giving you the mortally ill special— the deathbed works, if you will,” he says, and you can tell he’s smiling. You do your best to smile back but it’s weak and probably looks more like a grimace. 

You feel shuffling before the bed rises from Eddie standing.

“Okay, so I’m gonna get you medicine first. Then movie, food, and whatever else, deal?”

Your lower lip pouts out appreciatively for the boy you’ve called your best friend for forever now. If you weren’t deathly ill, you’d kiss him.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, voice getting caught in your throat for an entirely different reason than your cold this time. 

He mumbles back some version of ‘don’t worry about it’ before he’s off, leaving you in the quiet of your room with only your breathing, coughing, and sniffling breaking the silence. It’s barely a few minutes before you hear his footsteps and the edge of your bed dips again. 

“This is what you took right? The cold and flu medicine?”

“Mhm” you hum.

“You have nasal congestion?”

You sniffle loudly and nod.

“Right. Nasal pain, sinus congestion, and sinus pain?”

You hum again, catching onto the fact that he’s reading the symptoms off of the box. 

“Chest congestion?”

Weakly you swat your hand out trying to find Eddie. When you do, you give him the weakest of taps. “Too many questions,” you muster. 

“Well, I know you’re joking about dying but I don’t want to actually kill you,” he says. You hum again.

You hear him fumbling with the cardboard before fumbling with the plastic pill packaging.

“Do you wanna sit up?” he asks.

“I want to die,”

“Well you can’t do that so I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?”

Eddie starts tugging at the blanket and you let your weakened limbs go limp, undoubtedly making the task much harder for him but he doesn’t say anything. Eventually, he pulls you up by your underarms, propping you up against your headboard. 

When you feel his cool hands on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your face, you open your eyes for the first time since Eddie got here. 

“There she is,” he laughs lightly, still pushing back the disheveled mess that is your hair.

“Your hands feel nice,” you whisper, focusing on the coolness on your skin. Before you have a chance to really absorb the relief of his hands on your skin, he pulls away, grabbing for the water he had set down on your bedside table. 

“Yeah, you’re really hot,” he replies, passing the water to you.

“Tombstone quote,” you say, catching his eye, making him laugh again. With a shaky hand, you take the water.

“Funny and hot, that’s a killer deal.” He hands you the little cold and flu pill and you place it in your mouth, swallowing it down with small sips of the cold water that feels like ice going down your throat. 

You redirect your gaze to Eddie, “you’re gonna get sick, that’s the real killer here,” you say. 

“I’ll be fine,”

“You don’t want this cold, trust me,” you say, taking another sip of water before holding it out to Eddie. 

“I’ll be fine,” he repeats as he takes the water, putting it back on your bedside table. 

You nod. You appreciate Eddie’s help more than anything. Fending for yourself wasn’t exactly going so well— clearly.

“You had this with your other stuff, do you want it?” he asks, holding up the vicks vapor rub.

When you felt the cold coming on you went to the pharmacy and picked up a few things just in case. The vapor rub was on sale and you bought it on a whim but haven’t tried it yet.

“Do you think it really works?”

“Wayne used to put it on me, I guess it does?”

“Where do you put it?”

“On your chest or back,” he answers, looking at the fine print of the packaging. “Yeah, it says chest, throat, and back.”

You open your mouth to reply but instead feel the creeping up of the tickling in your throat. Turning the other way, you do your best to not cough all over Eddie. Sucking in a deep breath, you only trigger another cough that divulges into one of many coughing attacks that you’ve had today. When you’re finally done, you drop your head to the back of the headboard in defeat. 

“C’mon, let’s try it on your back for now,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder encouraging you to lean forward. You move how he wants you without protest.

“I’m just gonna lift up your shirt a bit, okay?” he says, you nod but he pauses, fingers just barely slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“Eddie, with the way I’m feeling, you could see me butt ass naked right now and I could not care less,” you say. 

He snorts a laugh before his cool fingers trail up your spine giving you tingles that make you shiver. “Sorry,” he hums but you shake your head. His hand makes contact with your upper back, rubbing the ointment on your skin and it honestly feels incredibly soothing. Whether it’s the rub or the physical contact, you’re not sure, but you’re not questioning it either.

The noise that comes out of you could have been a moan had you not been congested. Instead it comes out like a low, stuffed up groan— not unlike a movie zombie. 

Eddie rubs a few more circles on your back before his hand travels back down your spine. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, helping you sit back up straight.

“So fucking good and like I need you to rub my back like that again,” you say, resting your head back against the headboard. Maybe you put a little too much conviction in your words but that truly felt amazing.

The room is silent and you blink open your eyes to see Eddie holding the tub of rub in his hands, paused halfway through closing it. It takes a moment for him to look up at you but when he does, he smiles softly.

“What movie do you wanna watch?”

Had you not been distracted by your sickness, you might have noticed the faintness of a blush spreading across the tops of Eddie’s cheeks. Coughing and forcing air back into your lungs takes up every ounce of your consciousness though, so you don’t notice. 

You shrug your shoulder taking a deep breath, “anything, I’ll probably pass out from the medicine anyways,” you reply, turning away again to cough. 

Eddie hums before he’s moving to your dresser opposite your bed, angling the TV for you to see it better. 

“Sixteen Candles, Children of the Corn, Gremlins, Teen Wolf?” he says, listing off the titles of the different tapes you have sprawled next to the vcr. 

“Any.” 

“Gremlins seems kind of relevant,” he says, pulling open the clamshell box.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. Eddie turns to you, smirk spreading across his lips.

“Nothing,” he sings lightly. He turns away from you, pushing the tape into the player and then pressing the combination of buttons to get it working. 

“You better not be implying that I look like a gremlin because—” you interrupt yourself with another cough that quickly divulges into yet another coughing fit— worse than the last. 

With each cough being so strong it makes your head pound. You don’t notice Eddie crossing your room or him settling back on the edge of your bed. You only notice his presence when he’s encouraging you forward, hand rubbing your back again. 

When your coughing finally calms down enough for you to take a good breath, Eddie brings the glass of water up for you to take a sip. You take the cup in your hands, guiding it to your mouth. At the same time, Eddie never fully lets go of the cup, making sure it doesn’t spill. You take a drink, nodding when you’re done and he sets it back down, hand still running up and down your back. 

“It’s probably just the rub working, getting all that nasty stuff out,” he says softly. 

You nod again, letting your head fall to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s probably not the smartest idea to be so close to him because you're pretty much sentencing him to his demise, but with how terrible you feel you’re desperate for anything to make it better— and right now the only thing making anything better is Eddie. 

“The medicine’ll kick in any minute and you’ll feel much better, okay? I’ll go get you something to eat and then I can rub your back some more. How’s that sound?” he says softly, brushing the edge of your face with his chin as he tilts his face downwards towards yours. 

Your lower lip pouts out again and you feel your eyes water behind your closed lids. Maybe you were already hyper emotional from feeling so sick, but Eddie being so sweet is also doing a number on you.

“Sounds really nice,” you whisper, sucking in a breath.

“You’ll be okay,” Eddie whispers, hand switching from rubbing up and down your back to rubbing circles at the top of your back. “I’ll take care of you, I got you.”

Before the tears in your eyes have a chance to breach your waterline, Eddie’s shifting beside you, leaning you back against the headboard with the promise of being quick while he gets you food. Only once he’s gone and you’re left alone in your room do you notice Gremlins has already started playing. Opening your eyes, you spare a few glances at the screen that distract you from your teary eyed state.

As Eddie promised, he was pretty quick in his return. You could hear him the whole time, kitchen utensils clanking and cupboard doors closing. Maybe all concept of time is lost on you right now, but it seemed like barely any time had passed before he was taking slow, careful steps back towards your room.

“Alright— got that soup you like, got crackers, and got you some juice,” Eddie announces as he situates the dishware on your bedside table. “I even made sure not to warm the soup too much so you can eat it right away,” he says.

Eyes closed again, you don’t know what you expected him to do but him manhandling you took you by surprise. A hand slid behind your back and another under your upper thighs, he was sliding you right over on the mattress.

“Just giving myself some space here,” he says absentmindedly as he fixes your blanket around you. He quickly settles in next to you before grabbing the sleeve of crackers and settling them in front of you and grabbing the bowl of soup.

Sitting with his legs stretched out next to yours, you let your head dip to his shoulder again, this time like a silent thank you where you cozy your head against him, not unlike a cat.

“For the record, you’re more like Gizmo,” he says, a tease intruding in his voice.

“Hm?” you hum questioningly.

“You don’t look like a gremlin, you’re cute like Gizmo,” he says.

You sink your face further into the crook of Eddie's shoulder, lip jetting out once more. He’s done nothing more than call you a cute gremlin rather than an evil gremlin, yet you feel yourself turning misty eyed yet again. This time you squeeze your eyes shut, closing them on purpose, hiding your sickness induced emotions.

“Soups gonna get cold,” Eddie says, twisting his neck to look at you again. “C’mon, it’ll be better for you if you eat it warm,” he says, using his free arm to move you.

Once you’re finally propped up again in an appropriate position to eat, you feel Eddie’s hand on your cheek— no doubt becoming aware of your tears.

“You okay?” he asks softly, thumb rubbing under your cheek.

“You’re being so nice to me,” you explain, sniffling back your need to cry.

“Just taking care of you. Want you to feel better,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“You don’t gotta thank me, just gotta eat your soup, okay Gizmo?” Eddie says, making you snort out a snotty laugh before sucking it all back in with an apology that he quickly dismisses. 

You take a few breaths, getting your tears under control. Shifting your focus to the soup, Eddie holds the bowl close to you while you slowly feed yourself spoonful after spoonful. 

“Crackers?” Eddie offers.

“Maybe one.”

“How ‘bout two?” he replies, peeling back the plastic and pulling two out for you. You nod softly before taking them from him. 

You feel yourself running out of energy and it’s exasperating that all it took was lifting a spoon to your lips a measly few times. When you let the crackers sit in your lap for too long, Eddie turns to look at you, resting the bowl of soup down in his lap. 

“Y’okay?” he asks.

“Tired,” you answer. 

“Just finish those and you can be done, okay?” he says, meeting your gaze. You shake your head.

“Can’t,” you reply.

“You can,” he says, turning his torso to put the bowl of soup on the table. He turns back around, reaching for the crackers in your hand. “Know you can,” he repeats, bringing the crackers to your lips.

“Eddie—” you try to protest.

“Bite,” he says, cutting you off and nudging the cracker into your mouth. 

You bite, giving into him. It feels weird being hand fed. It’s probably even weirder when two bites in you close your eyes in an effort to conserve your energy. Regardless, Eddie doesn’t say anything besides positive affirmations about how good you’re doing which you really, really appreciate. 

“How about you drink some of this,” he says, reaching for the glass of juice as you chew the last bite of cracker. “Then I’ll help you lay down and I can rub your back s’more?”

“You don’t have to if you wanna go home, you've been here a long time,” you say, swallowing the dryness of the cracker down. 

Eddie lifts the cup of juice to your lips, tipping it back for you to sip at. When you take more than a few drinks, you lift a hand lightly pushing the cup away. Blinking your eyes open you look at Eddie as he returns the cup to sit with the other dishware on your bedside table. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. You can go home if you want,”

“Don’t want to,”

“You’re gonna be— you interrupt yourself with a yawn this time. “—gonna be so sick,” you say groggily.

“Just let me cuddle you, you know you want it,” he says, a teasing tone hinting in his voice. You blink open your eyes again to see a genuine smile as he looks at you—one that shouldn’t be there considering how gross you feel and are sure you look. Despite that, it’s there and you do want cuddles so you nod softly, making a weak, sad attempt at getting closer to Eddie.

Eddie meets your attempt by gently pulling you down the mattress. He maneuvers you to have your head resting on his chest while his arm snakes around you, rubbing circles on your back. With the sleepiness settling in and your cold symptoms dialing back due to the medicine, you can’t help but hum happily. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he says quietly.

It feels beyond good. Good is an understatement. Having him take care of you like this is making you feel mushy and only highlights your feelings for Eddie. In combination with your partially delusionally, sleepy state the only thing on your mind is expressing your feelings, all of them true no matter how far out of it you are at this point. 

“Eddie, if I die, just know that I love you,” you mutter into the fabric of his shirt. 

“That’s just the cold medicine talking,” Eddie laughs softly. You find the energy to shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, love you,” you repeat. “Love you so much.”

It’s faint, maybe he whispered it or maybe it’s the fact that you were slipping into sleep but you heard it. 

“I love you too,” he says quietly. 

As if those words gave you a short lived second life, it had you perking up, desperately needing to clarify just in case he didn’t understand. 

“But Eddie I love you as my best friend but also more than that— I love you so much.”

He leaves you in silence but you don’t have the clear consciousness to overthink it, you just keep talking.

“I don’t even care if you don’t like me like that, I love you Eddie.”

“I love you too. Love you a lot, but I think we should talk about this when you’re not tired and on cold medicine, okay?” he whispers softly. 

As your thoughts start to drift, you focus on the first half of Eddie's sentiment. He loves you— and he loves you a lot. With that on your mind, intermixed with the comforting friction of his hand on your back, you fall into the deepest and most comfortable sleep of your life despite being so sick. Eddie loves you. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Arguably, the best thing that came out of your cold was your confession. It was bound to happen eventually and although it did sort of seem like a deathbed confession at the time, it was genuine— that of which you clarified for Eddie. To your fortune, he also clarified that his reply was true as well. Beyond that, you were still sick and neither of you had done much more than just sharing those little words that one night. So yes, arguably, that's the best thing that came out of your sickly state; however, in your opinion, you think the best thing that happened was that you got Eddie sick too. 

It was less than a day after you started feeling normal again that Eddie was running a fever. He ended up staying at your place for the majority of your sickness but he had left once to get some things for himself. Since he had his stuff here already, you offered for him to stay over at yours while you returned the favor of playing doctor. 

Eddie took on a much different position as a sick person than you did. Undeniably, you both were on the dramatic end of things but while your cynical humour came out during your time being sick, Eddie was much different in how expressed himself.

Normally, a very touchy feely person, his affectionate side heightened tenfold while he was sick. He was all grabby hands, wanting you closer to him. Maybe it was because the two of you had broken the touch barrier while you were sick or maybe Eddie just turned into a touch deprived baby when he was sick, you’ll never know, but you didn’t deny him of the cuddles that you so dearly appreciated while you were under the weather. 

The most interesting part— which shouldn't have came as a surprise, was that not only did he appreciate holding you, but he intensely appreciated you holding him, whether that be hands scratching his head as he rested it on your stomach, or your arms wrapped around him from behind making him the little spoon. Additionally, he was also incredibly affectionate with his words, constantly telling you how grateful he was for you and how much he appreciated you. 

Your favourite confession came late one night, probably at the peak of his sickness. Fairly similar to your deathbed confession, but a moment to remember regardless.

You had just finished helping him eat, similar to how he had done for you, and were cuddling with him, smoothing your hands over his side as he rested his head on your chest. 

The medicine was kicking in, making him drowsy, eyes fluttering shut as he let sleep take him over. He had kept babbling random thoughts but as he got more and more tired he was eventually reduced to heavy breaths. That was, until he titled his face up to yours. You looked down at him, meeting his sleepy eyes.

“I love you,” he said. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too, Eddie,” you replied, smiling.

“But I love you so much,” he said, voice returning to its babbling cadence. “Love you so much I wanna kiss you and love you and—” his babbling started to slowly fade as his head got heavier on your chest. You couldn’t help but laugh softly as your heart swelled.

You smoothed a hand over his face, brushing back his hair as you stared at him with nothing but love for your very, very sick boy. Like you had given him a second wind, his babbling started up again. 

“Wanna marry you. Love you so much wanna marry you,” he said, words slurring.

“Think you’ll have to ask me on a date first, cutie,” you replied quietly, partially under the impression that he was already asleep. 

“I will. Love you so much, I will,” he mumbled and with that, he was out like a light. 

From there, the rest was history. If curious minds were to inquire, you would say that Eddie’s always been very good at keeping his promises, and mindless babbling or not, he meant every word that he confessed in his sickly, drowsy state. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

thank you! <3

[sickskz]

One step too far

Synopsis/intro: After over a week of bedrest due to having the flu, Hyunjin is beyond ready to get back on stage. Desperate to make up for his lost time, he pushes his body beyond its limits on his first performance back. What starts off as exhaustion and sore muscles the next day quickly spirals into something far more dangerous. Luckily, his members are looking out for him.

A.k.a the fic where Hyunjin gets rhabdo

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caretaker/s: mainly a mix of Changbin, Felix, Han and Chris

____________________________________________

Hyunjin had always been one for theatrics, there was no denying that. Call him a drama queen, he holds the title with pride. However, saying that when he woke up this morning, his body felt like someone had tried to repurpose it by throwing him in a volcano and have him spat back out… That honestly wasn’t even an exaggeration. 

Every single cell in his body felt like it was screaming at him, set aflame and burning up from within. Opening his eyes was like peeling open an old, rusty lock. He didn’t know how he could possibly be able to move at all.

Yesterday was the first concert Hyunjin had been able to perform in a couple of weeks. He’d been put on a small leave due to having the flu, but yesterday he had finally been declared as ‘healthy’ and fit to perform again.

As one then does, he gave a little extra for the stays, jacking up his energy to 110% for each and every song.

Being back on the stage had been so incredibly liberating, it really had him wondering how he could ever survive without it. 

He had been sore before, of course, all the time, but nothing like this. Ever. Not even the flu had his body aching as much it did right now. 

Hyunjin almost felt like crying. In fact, judging by the dampness on his face, he might have cried already in his sleep. Or maybe it was just sweat. Either way, they both told the same story. He was in pain. 

He inhaled a shuddering breath, wincing when his chest expanded and stretched his tender muscles. He peeked over to the bed at the other side of the room. Empty. Changbin was up. The clock was in his peripheral, so a small shift told him all he needed to know. It was 10am… and no one had woken him up yet? Strange. 

Hyunjin struggled to roll on his side so he could prop himself up to sit, body protesting his every move and his stomach churning from the strain. He gulped. 

The change in posture caused the room before him to tilt violently, nausea crashing over him as his vision dimmed at the edges. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would help, but it only made him feel like he was spinning even more. He tried to hold on to his mattress to steady himself, but pain lanced through his body sharply, stealing the air from his lungs. 

“Shi..” he lurched forward just in time as a mouthful of bile shot up his throat, splashing on the floor and only partially into the trash can in between the two beds. He desperately grabbed hold of it as a second wave came over him, retching loudly as vomit scratched up his throat. He could still not see straight, so dizzy that for a moment, he was worried he was going to faint. 

How the hell had he gotten sick again? He had just recovered.. he thought immunity was a thing. Maybe he hadn’t actually been all clear before performing again? Maybe this was the punishment his body gave him for not waiting long enough.. 

He couldn’t make sense of it…

He had felt pretty good yesterday, great even, and he hadn’t had a fever in days. 

Now, Hyunjin had never mastered being quiet when throwing up, even with his stomach as empty as it was now. He was loud, and as he heaved and retched unproductively, footsteps could be heard thundering down the hall.

The door slammed open, showing Changbin in the doorway with a wide-eyed expression that quickly morphed into one of concern. 

“Hyun—… aish” the rapper scurried over, briefly looking over the small mess before sitting down beside his dongsaeng on the bed. 

He put a hand on his back to comfort him, but Hyunjin cried out in pain at the touch, a mix between a gag and a sob leaving his mouth. Changbin freezed, pulling his hand back and letting it hover uncertainly over Hyunjins sweat drenched t-shirt. He didn’t feel particularly hot, like he had a fever, but every other symptom seemed quite clear.

“I’m-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, hey..” Changbin tried to keep his composure, immediately losing track of what to do if he couldn’t provide any physical comfort. He was usually good at that when it came to Hyunjin. “It’s okay, hey, it’s okay, try to breathe” he settled for that, moving his hands to hold onto his own thighs. Resisting the urge to reach out, hug him, anything to console him. 

Hyunjin gasped for air, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to will his body to listen. Changbins hand felt like it was made of prickly needles when it landed against his back, digging into his skin and causing electric shocks of pain all through him. 

However, his presence did help, and Hyunjin could feel himself start to calm down and follow his hyungs guidance.

He wasn’t sure how long it took, but after a while he finally managed to breathe a little easier.

“Are you done?”

Hyunjin nodded reluctantly, letting Changbin pry the trash can from his hands and setting it aside to deal with later. 

“You poor thing” Changbin cooed in sympathy. “have you gotten yourself sick again? I.. I’m sorry I touched your back, does it hurt?” The rappers eyes glistened with guilt and Hyunjin wanted to punch him for being so annoyingly sweet and kind. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know touching his back would make it feel like he was ripping a knife through his muscle fibers. Hell, that even caught Hyunjin himself by surprise. He had never felt anything like that before. 

“I..” Hyunjin swallowed thickly, then exhaled shakily “I don’t know. I just woke up feeling like… like I’ve been run over by a truck a couple times” as if on cue, his right calf suddenly cramped up, making him double over himself with a hiss. 

Changbin frowned, stopping himself before he instinctively went to hold on to the other to support him. “Did you go too hard last night? I mean, you certainly made an awesome show, but..” he trailed off, as if a thought just crossed his mind. “Do you want me to bring some ice packs? Maybe it can help ease the soreness a little.” 

Hyunjin didn’t want to be alone, not now. He was still too dizzy. “No, please don’t leave” he answered quickly, tears brimming in his eyes and lips wobbly. Changbins expression softened, and he smiled gently. 

“Okay..” Changbin sighed and Hyunjin sniffled helplessly. “Can I touch you? I just want to feel if you have a fever.” the rapper said earnestly, earning a small nod from the younger. 

Changbin’s hand didn’t feel like needles this time. In fact, it was a gentle warmth that ever so lightly caressed his forehead. Hyunjin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Hm, you don’t feel warm.. I think you may just have really overworked your body, Hyunjinnie” Changbin commented, fully immersed in his nurse role. “I can ask if one of the others can come by with some ice packs then, is that okay?” 

“Yes-” Hyunjin didn’t even hesitate. “Please.”

He didnt feel warm, according to Changbin, but he wholeheartedly disagreed. He felt like he was burning, pain searing through his bones relentlessly. Icing himself down seemed like the only possible way to relief. 

“Alright-” Changbin finally glanced at the bedsheets Hyunjin had been sleeping on. A dark patch in the shape of a human was visible in the center of his bed. “I.. I think we better get your sheets changed.. and get you into some fresh clothes too, don’t you think?” The rapper swiped a drop of sweat off Hyunjins forehead. “Do you think you can stand?”

Hyunjin thought for a moment, eyes squinting, then shrugged halfway- not really able to bring his shoulders into it. “Dunno.”

Changbin seemed conflicted, brows drawn together in deep consideration and his lips pursed. “Okay.. uh, how about you support yourself on me, I don’t have to touch you if it hurts.. or.. what do you think?” He pushed himself to stand up from the bed, holding out a muscular arm so Hyunjin could cling onto his bicep.

Hyunjin had a countdown in his head before standing up with all the might he could muster. His legs were like jello beneath him, but he managed to stand wobbly, latching himself onto Changbins arm. The pain was worst in his back and legs, as well as deep in his abdomen and torso. His arms were tolerable in comparison, though they too felt unusually heavy. 

He took one small shuffle of a step, and though his knees buckled slightly, he was able to stay up by holding onto Changbins steady form. “Okay, let’s go” 

They must’ve looked like a nurse walking his 97 year old patient through the corridors of the nursing home, the way Changbin patiently supported a frail, hunched over Hyunjin- who walked about as fast as a snail. 

Every step burned, he struggled to lift his feet off the ground, but when he finally was able to settle on the couch, it was all worth it. 

Changbin had grabbed a clean T-shirt, pyjama pants and a pair of socks for him when they were on their way out of the bedroom, and still managed to send a text regarding ice packs.

Hyunjin hadn’t really realised he was squeezing his eyes shut again when he was sat down on the couch, until he opened them to see Jeongin staring at him from the couch opposite of him. His expression was sceptical, his eyes scanning Hyunjin like he was some sort of chemical weapon. Did he look that bad? 

“You good?” Was all their maknae had to offer. 

You good? Hyunjin clicked his tongue quietly. No, he was not fucking GOOD. He was awful, actually.

In fact, he wondered if the youngest would comply if he asked him to strangle him with a couch cushion to put him out of his misery. Right then and there.

“Yeah..” Hyunjin managed, forcing a small smile as Changbin put out the fresh clothes for him. “‘Just… must’ve overdid it last night, I guess” he chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain it caused around his rib cage. 

“Ah.” Jeongin nodded, shrugging his shoulders and returning to whatever it was he was watching on his phone. Hyunjin probably would have been offended by his disinterest if it wasn’t for the fact that he still was in agony. 

“Lift your arms up.” Changbin ordered softly, and Hyunjin obliged to the best of his ability. He got them a little over halfway up before reaching a dead end in his shoulder joints, and his arms quivered so much it almost looked like he was shaking them purposefully. A strange, new choreography, perhaps. 

Luckily, Changbin was swift and managed to both strip him of his sweaty shirt and replace it with a clean one before his arms collapsed back down against his sides. He went to try and help him with his pyjama pants, but that took an awful lot of effort. For them both. 

Hyunjin, as if he was a severely injured patient, clung onto Changbin over his shoulder as the older managed to undress and dress him without bending or hurting his legs too much. There was no way he hadn’t done that before. Changbin moved like a professional. 

Once fully clothed in dry clothes, Hyunjin carefully slid down to lay on his side. Changbin lifted his throbbing legs onto the couch for him, then helped him get a pillow under his neck for support. “Better?” The rapper asked, crouching down and looking at him with a kind smile. 

Hyunjin managed a small smile of his own, despite the tears still stinging at the corner of his eyes. He watched on as Changbin lifted his strong hand and ever so gently wiped a droplet from the edge of his eyelashes. His heart ached with emotion, making his breath hitch. “Thank you, binnie..”

__________________________________

Lee know arrived in the common room shortly after with three ice packs wrapped neatly in towels. An art he had performed many times. 

“Injured? Sick?” He asked shortly, handing the packs to Changbin, who was now sitting carefully next to where Hyunjin had his head propped up and supported by pillows. He had also gotten a pillow to support between his legs, one behind his back, and one that he was hugging to his chest. 

Even with his eyes closed, Hyunjin could feel the unsure shrug Changbin responded with. “Don’t really know. He doesn’t feel feverish, but his body aches like crazy..” 

Hyunjin let out a small, appreciative hum when he felt the first chilled bundle carefully press to the back of his neck. Another one was soon placed gingerly against his back, held in place thanks to the pillow. 

“Lee Know, can you place the last one of his legs? Seemed like they hurt a lot.” Changbin spoke rather quietly, probably assuming Hyunjin was asleep. It wasn’t far from the truth. Despite having slept in, Hyunjin felt exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Can’t he do it himself? He’s not asleep.” Lee Know said in a teasing voice, and Hyunjin squinted his eyes open to glare at him.

As he stubbornly went to reach his arm out for the last ice pack, Hyunjin froze with a wince as the burning slashed across his back and down his legs. 

“Agh-!” His hand fell back to dig into the pillow he’d been cradling to his chest, and the younger curled in on himself as he tried to breathe through the cramps. Short, sharp breaths. 

“Woah, hey, don’t…. Jesus..” Lee know seemed unsure of what to say, unsure of what to make of the situation. Hyunjin wasn’t too sure himself. “Uh, I was just poking some fun, sorry...” he sounded genuine enough. 

Hyunjin could feel the cooling of the pack against his calf, and inhaled shakily before opening his eyes again. “It’s fine.” he spoke through gritted teeth, his eyebrows pinched. It wasn’t fine, and he could sense Changbin and Lee Know having a silent conversation between the two of them. Hyunjin was too tired to be bothered with what it was about. 

Changbin carefully swiped some sweaty strands of hair from Hyunjin’s face. “Actually.” he cleared his throat, as if the mouthing silent words to Lee Know a second ago somehow had messed with his vocal cords. “Lee Know, could you grab a thermometer as well? I just wanna make sure..” 

“Sure.” Lee know nodded, awkwardly turning on his feet and heading towards the nearest bathroom. 

He returned a moment later with a thermometer in hand, and Changbin thanked him before preparing it for use. 

“Alright, can you open your mouth for me?” Changbin said gently, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but furrow his brows as he was spoken to like a child. He wanted to retort with something along the lines of ‘I don’t know, can I?’ Or ‘why don’t you make me?’, but he resorted to simply complying in silence. 

The cool metal tip from the thermometer nested safely under his tongue, and after a few seconds, it beeped. Changbin pulled it back to read off the tiny screen, face contorted in concentration. 

“Hm.”

“Hm?” Hyunjin urged, struggling to keep himself awake for any longer than he needed. 

“36.8°C (98.2°F), no fever..” Changbin said with a hum, placing the thermometer on the table. That’s good, Hyunjin guessed. Didn’t explain anything though. Maybe it really was just overexertion..

“Hyunjinnie, should I ask if Felix to come by with some pain relief patches?” Changbin asked softly, eyes darting between his phone screen and Hyunjins pitiful form. 

Hyunjin thought about it briefly. While he didn’t want to cause Felix any trouble, he was in such desperate need of relief that there was no way he could turn it down.  

“Yes, please.”

_______________________________

12pm

Hyunjin had fallen asleep again. 

When he woke up, it was thanks to the sound of Changbin and Han laughing in unison. They could very well be at the very other end of the house, as far as he knew, considering how loud they could be. He heard them either way. 

Hyunjin groaned, the pain welcoming him back to consciousness. First then was he alerted to the fact that, although it was quite obviously not Changbin anymore, someone was sitting beside him.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Felix’s voice was soft, and he leaned forward to peer down at Hyunjins face with a toothy smile. “Heard you weren’t feeling the best.”

Hyunjin tried to return the smile, genuinely happy that out of everyone else, Felix was the one sitting by him. “Feeeeelix~” Hyunjin drawled, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It wasn’t very effective.

“How are you feeling?” Felix mused softly. The sunlight behind him almost gave him the illusion of a halo, like he was truly something otherworldly. An angel sent to Hyunjin in his moment of suffering.

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh, his lips forming a small pout. “Exhausted.” he muttered, his voice tinged with defeat. “I don’t get it.. I was finally feeling okay yesterday, but now… I think my body hates me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this sore.” His tone was petulant, almost childlike, but Felix understood. Hyunjin was upset, and rightfully so.

Felix ran his fingers through his hair, carefully untangling the salty strands that had clumped together earlier. “Yeah?” Hyunjin watched as the other’s eyebrows knit together in thought, though his lips still held a small smile. “Do you think you could describe it a little more ? I just want to understand what you’re feeling. Maybe I can help.”

Hyunjin blinked groggily, trying to piece together the words that could best describe what he was feeling. “It’s… hard to explain.” he admitted, his voice small. “It feels like my muscles are… burning. When I-I move, it feels like they’re tearing-“ he took a break to allow himself some less strained breaths, before continuing. “Even breathing, it feels like someone’s pulling at my ribs.. and my legs… gah, they just keep cramping up all the time, so so bad...” he couldn’t help the small, petulant half-sob that slipped past his lips, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I-I just don’t understand why everything hurts so much..”

Felix nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed as he listened. His heart ached at the sight of Hyunjin being so miserable and unlike his usual self. “Okay, it’s okay~” he soothed, soft fingers ever so tenderly brushing across Hyunjins cheek. 

“That sounds awful, Hyunjin-ah… I’m sorry.” Felix murmured, voice heavy with care. “You really pushed yourself way too hard, didn’t you?” He paused, his expression softening. 

“I… I really do think the best thing right now is for you to rest. Let your body recover, okay? And I’ll see if I can find something to help with the cramps..”

Hyunjin nodded weakly, his eyelids already slipping. The effort of talking had drained him again. “Okay.” he whispered, curling a little tighter around the pillow pressed to his chest. “Thank you, ‘Lix.”

Felix leaned down to tuck the blanket more securely around him, his hands ever so agile and light. “Of course. Just try to sleep, Hyunjin. You’re going to be okay.” His voice was soft, comforting enough that Hyunjin’s breathing soon evened out and he drifted off yet again. 

Once Felix was sure Hyunjin was asleep, he stood up quietly, trying not to disturb him. He made his way to the kitchen, hoping that a warm meal might help his friend recover faster.

When he entered the room, he found that Chan already there, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand. The leader was scrolling through something on his phone, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. At the sound of Felix’s footsteps, he looked up and offered a small smile.

“Hey, Lix. You alright?” Chan asked, setting his phone down. His sharp eyes immediately picked up on Felix’s slightly frazzled state. 

Felix hesitated for a moment before nodding half-heartedly. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s Hyunjin I’m worried about.” He moved to the stove, pulling out a pot and setting it on the burner. 

Chan’s expression darkened at the mention of Hyunjin’s name. “What’s going on?” he asked, pushing away from the counter and setting his mug down. 

As Felix began chopping some vegetables with methodical precision, he relayed everything Hyunjin had told him to Chan. His voice was steady, but the worry in his eyes was unmistakable.

Chan listened without interruption.

“-I don’t know, Chris, he really doesn’t look too good.” Felix insisted with a sigh, stretching his arms up above his head to try and ease the tension in his shoulders. “The way he described his pain, I…. I can tell something is wrong, I just can´t figure out what.. If he’s not better in a few hours, we have to contact someone. A doctor, a nurse, just someone who knows what they’re doing.”

It was more a conclusion than a suggestion, but Chan couldn’t say that he would’ve disagreed either way. He had listened intently as Felix summed up Hyunjins state, pale, sweaty, and face scrunched in pain even in his sleep. Like Felix, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this than the dancer just having overworked himself.

“I agree.“ Chan said softly, a sigh escaping his lips as he mindlessly peered out the window. “We’ll just have to keep a close eye on him, yeah? If anything changes for the worse, we know what we need to do.” The oldest watched Felix stir around in the pot, noticing that he had grown quiet, lost in thought. 

“Speaking of, is he alone right now?“ Chan asked, breaking Felix out of his spiralling mind. 

Felix shook his head, his voice low. “He was still fast asleep when I left about 15 minutes ago. Han and Changbin are hanging out in the next room, keeping an ear out in case they hear anything.”

________________________________________

2pm

Roughly one and a half hour had passed, and while Hyunjin had hoped and prayed he would be getting better with time and rest, things were only taking a turn for the worse. 

When he woke up from his nap, his body was covered in a new layer of cold sweat, relentless shivers running through his body. He didn’t feel the same, sharp pain he’d felt earlier, but the dull ache in his body lingered, only faded because he felt too dazed to fully grasp it.

“Felix…?” Hyunjin called out, his voice barely carrying into the room and filled with an aching need for reassurance. He felt awfully strange, like he was no longer in his own body, his own voice sounded like an echo. 

His chest felt jittery, his heart drumming erratically against his ribs. It wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable, and it made it a little harder to catch his breath.

A head popped around the corner just a moment later, but it wasn’t Felix. 

“Hey, pretty boy~” Han said with a soft smile, his eyebrows furrowing as he took in the sight of Hyunjin’s trembling form. A particularly harsh shiver ran through him, covering his skin in goosebumps from head to toe.

“You need anything? Felix just went to make some food for you guys.” Jisungs voice was gentle, though the uncertainty in his tone was clear as he stepped closer, his eyes scanning Hyunjin’s pale face, taking in the cold sweat and unsteady shivers. His expression softened further, worry fully replacing any teasing edge.

Hyunjin couldn’t hold himself together anymore. The tears that had been welling in his eyes finally spilled over, streaking down his pale skin as his body shuddered beneath the blankets.

“I-I really don’t feel good…” Hyunjin’s voice was barely above a whisper, his words trembling just as much as his body.

Han’s heart ached at the sight. He gently placed a hand on Hyunjin’s forehead, his eyes widening as he felt the heat radiating from his skin. “Sh-..You’re burning up.” he murmured, his voice laced with worry. “I thought Changbin-hyung said you didn’t have a fever…“

Hyunjin’s sobs came out in small, pitiful gasps, the salty tears soaking into the pillow below him. The fever had drained him, leaving him a shell of his usual self. Weak, feverish, and utterly vulnerable. He gripped onto the others boys hand desperately, like it was some sort of lifeline.

“Awh, Hyunjin-ah, It’s okay, it’s okay.“ With his free hand, Han attempted to wipe away the tears, his fingers tenderly brushing the damp strands of hair from Hyunjin’s pallid face. Every touch was an attempt to soothe, to comfort him in any way possible. 

Then, the rapper fumbled for his phone, dialing Felix’s number in a hurry, his heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest.

Thankfully, Felix answered on the second ring. “Lix, it’s Hyunjin. Something’s wrong.” Jisung’s voice was strained with worry, but he didn’t need to say more.

Felix didn’t respond; he simply ended the call. But the sudden sound of hurried footsteps, echoing from the kitchen, was all the reassurance Jisung needed. 

“It huuuurts..” Hyunjin wailed miserably, voice cracking with the strain of the sobs wracking his body. 

Felix and Chan both came jogging into the living room, quickly assessing the situation and stepping up behind Jisung with big eyes. 

“Shhh, what hurts, baby? What hurts?” Jisung eased himself off the couch to sit on the ground beside him, never once letting go on Hyunjins clammy hand. He didn’t know what else to do, looking at Felix and Chan with a desperate look in his eyes. 

“M-my legs, my-my l-legs…" Hyunjin chanted in gasps, writhing with pain as Felix carefully stepped forward and started pulling the blanket off him. His legs felt like they’d been wrapped up far too tight, feeling both numb and excruciatingly painful at the same time. 

“Can I take a look, Hyunjin-ah? Please?” Felix voice was soft and gentle, and Hyunjin barely managed to nod. Chan handed the thermometer to Han, who quickly added two and two together.

With the thermometer back in between Hyunjins chapped lips, Felix pulled back the blankets fully. He carefully lifted the cuffs of Hyunjins loose pyjama pants, freezing in action.

“Chris-" Felix’s voice caught in his throat and the silence that followed was fiercely broken by the urgent beeping of the thermometer. 

“Yeah, I’m already calling for an ambulance. Felix, take off his socks, they may be cutting off circulation.” Their leader immediately responded, lifting his phone to his ear and holding a hand to the back of his own neck. 

“39.5°C(103.1°F)” Han read aloud, looking back to Chan with panic swirling around his eyes. How had it changed so quickly? 

Hyunjin laid there, sobs dying down into quick, shallow breaths as he tried to understand what was going on around him. He could only capture a few things here and there, completely overwhelmed by the tightening pain that held his body in a lock.

When Felix removed his socks, there was an immediate relief, but it washed over him fleetingly, quickly replaced by the same sharp, stabbing pain.

Hyunjin cried out in agony, gripping onto Hans shoulder in desperation, body tense and erratic. Felix swallowed back his own tears as he assessed Hyunjins legs, all while not touching them. 

His feet looked.. weird, for the lack of a better word. Hyunjin was lean, with a naturally slender build that was only accentuated by the muscle tone he had earned as a hardworking dancer. 

His ankles in particular, were and had always been slim, a delicate shape that stood as a sharp contrast to the strength they had.

Now, Hyunjins feet didn’t even look like they belonged to him. They were puffed up unnaturally, skin stretched and flushed. The swelling was so distinct that indentations from his socks remained imprinted in his shins.

Felix frowned deeply, eyes darting from the swollen limbs to Hyunjins face, contorted in pain. His hands hovered, unsure if any touching would cause more harm than good. 

Chan paced around with the phone to his ear, rattling off information to the dispatcher with a calmness in his voice that just barely masked his own rising panic.

‘They’re on the way’ Chan mouthed to Felix when he caught his panicked eyes, who only nodded helplessly in return. 

“It’s going to be okay, help will be here soon.” Jisung murmured softly, his trembling fingers carefully carding through Hyunjins damp hair.

In the span of a few minutes, Hyunjin slipped further into a haze of delirium, the world around him breaking under the weight of pain. His eyes fluttered open and shut, unfocused and glassy. Garbled cries broke from his lip, tearless sobs that made his chest heave in uneven gasps. Feverish words tumbled out of him, disjointed and meaningless, and his grip on Jisungs hand was getting weaker. 

Hyunjin hazily caught the fleeting images of his friends moving around him, seeming to multiply. Suddenly, they morphed, first to blurry paramedics, then to nurses. 

Snippets of words floated past him in a faint echo, eerie and unfamiliar: Hypotensive, edema, AKI, crisis. He heard the faint blare of sirens and a distant mutter of ‘I’m here’ through the relentless pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

Then, all at once, everything disappeared.

____________________________________

It all felt like a few seconds, like an abnormally long blink. 

When he opened his eyes again, the room around him was new. White and sterile. 

A clean, clinical smell clung to the air, and the steady buzzing from the fluorescent lights made Hyunjin hum in response. 

His gaze drifted briefly over the machines around him, taking in the thin IV lines in his arms and the monitors beating steadily at his bedside. 

Hyunjin tried to move but failed to do so, his body pinned down with exhaustion. He managed to sluggishly tilt his head to the side instead, catching sight of two familiar figures hunched over in a couple of chairs in the corner. 

Chan sat with his head in his hands, while Felix sat leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his face pale and drawn.

They were speaking in hushed tones, but then Felix's gaze suddenly moved up from the floor to meet Hyunjins. His eyes widened, making Hyunjin realise how red and teary they were. 

“Lix..” Hyunjin breathed out, just above a whisper, his throat feeling dry and scratchy.

“Hyunjin-ah.” Felix was by his side in an instant, his hand fumbling to hold onto one of Hyunjins. “You’re awake..” his voice trembled, but relief flooded his face.

Chan stood from his chair as well, shuffling over and offering up a weary smile. “I’m so glad to see you.” he said, his voice strained with emotion. Chan gently leaned in and pulled at a string that was hanging by the bed.  Hyunjin looked at him in question, and Chan chuckled weakly.

“Just letting the staff know you’re awake.. So we can get some more information, okay?” Chan gave him a sympathetic smile, but it faltered once he saw the heart rate monitor climbing unexpectedly. From 70, to 80, to 90, 95..

“Hey..” Felix said, tapping his finger lightly against the top of Hyunjins hand in an attempt to ground him. “Hyunjin-ah, it’s okay, baby, just breathe.” Felix voice was comforting and steady, anchoring him from the storm that started brewing inside his hazy mind. 

Hyunjin blinked away the tears that stung in his eyes, sucking in a hitched breath as he tried to follow his instructions. “W-what happened..?” He strained, his eyes swirling with confusion.

Chan sighed softly, again flashing a small smile in an attempt to comfort him. “You got really sick, Hyun-ah.. your muscles were-�� 

As if on cue, the door swung open. The doctor, a middle aged woman with sharp eyes and a bright coat, walked inside with a nurse trailing behind her. 

Chan stepped back to allow her to stand by the bed, but Felix stayed put by his Hyunjins side, holding his pale hand steadily in his own.

“Mr. Hwang, we are glad to see you’re awake. I’m Dr. Davis, I’ve been one of the doctors attending to your case since you arrived” the doctor said. Her voice was calm and professional, but there was a trace of sympathy in her eyes as she glanced at the two members by the bed.

Hyunjins boggled mind found it hard to understand what she was saying. It was like most of his English knowledge was thrown out the door in an instant, only allowing him to understand a few words here and there. 

The others would translate for him afterwards, he was sure, so he nodded along the best he could. 

“You’ve developed something called rhabdomyolysis.” Dr. Davis explained, immediately capturing Felix’s and Chan’s full attention. She succinctly explained how the condition developed and, in Hyunjins case, how it had led to an ‘acute kidney injury’.

Hyunjin stared at her dully, mouth hung open slightly as her words traveled through his hazy brain. His eyes flickered to Felix, before he spoke up, questioning.  “a… a cute kidney?” He whispered, eyebrows drawing together in disbelief. 

Felix let out a surprised noise, somewhere between a laugh and a startled sob. He quickly covered his face, unable to hide the mix of emotions bubbling inside him. 

Rubbing his thumb over Hyunjin’s hand, Felix responded. “Mmm, not quite, Hyunjinnie. It’s ‘acute,’ not ‘cute.’” He smiled despite himself, though his eyes remained sullen.

Chan, unable to help the soft chuckle that escaped him, explained it to him in Korean. “Acute, meaning sudden… and not good, usually.”

The doctor continued when they settled, seeming unfazed by the interruption. She told him how he had been lucky, how this sort of thing could’ve been dangerous, but that they got to him in time. “Your vitals are stable, but we will have to keep you here for treatment and monitoring. We can’t know the extent of the damage until we’ve done some further testing.”

Chan stepped into the doctors line of sight once she finished talking, looking at the her with a troubled expression, as if he too was having a hard time processing it all. “So.. then.. is he going to be okay?”

The doctor didn’t confirm, nor did she deny. She looked at Chan, putting on a small smile. It looked fake, Hyunjin concluded. 

“We are going to monitor him closely, he is in very safe hands here. If you had come in any later, I wouldn’t be comfortable saying this, but since we got to him when we did.. I do believe there is a strong chance of full recovery.” 

Chans hardened expression finally cracked, and he hung his head as he let out a long exhale. “Okay.” he declared, clearing his throat and straightening his back in an attempt to regain his composure. “Thank you.”

The nurse swiftly went around the bed, checking each and every monitor that Hyunjin was attached to, before she and the doctor left with a promise to return within the hour.

There was a silence that stretched thin and uncomfortably across the room once they left. Both Felix and Bang Chan looked off in the distance with disconcerting looks on their faces. Hyunjin just stared blankly at them. 

“Uh…” Hyunjin finally mustered, his voice a mere rasp breaking through the stillness. “So… definitely no cute kidneys then..?”

Chan and Felix both snapped out of their trance, heads swiftly jerking around to look at the boy in the hospital bed. Felix chuckled a little more freely now, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he pressed a kiss to the back of Hyunjins hand. “No cute kidneys, unfortunately.” 

Chan stepped closer, giving Hyunjin a soft, dimpled smile. He seemed a little conflicted for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what to say next.

“.. you really scared us yesterday, Hyunjin.” Bang Chans voice sounded sullen, wavering a little. He swallowed thickly. “Please, don’t ever do that again.”

Hyunjin felt his stomach drop, heart breaking at the sorrowful tone in his hyungs voice. “I’m… I’m sorry, I’ll try not…. Wait- yesterday?”

“Yeah… you’ve been clonked out for a while.” Felix chimed in, smiling sympathetically as Hyunjins face went through a flurry of emotion. 

How long had he been out exactly? And.. had they stayed with him all this time? They were still wearing the same clothes, as far as he could tell. Were the others not allowed to come with? Probably not..

Chan picked up the chairs from the corner and placed them next to the bed, settling himself in one as he began to translate the information that the doctor had given them. Just the most crucial parts, simplifying it a little for Hyunjins sake.

Hyunjin was still not fully with it, but he certainly was more coherent than he had  been earlier. “Uh-huh. My kidneys are not cute at all then… probably quite ugly, actually.” he sighed, shutting his eyes. 

“It it’s any help, I don’t really think anyone’s kidneys are usually described as cute” Felix reassured him, flashing an award-winning smile. Hyunjin reciprocated it with a weak tug of his lips.

“Yeah, whether your kidneys are cute or not shouldn’t be on your lift of worries, Hyunjin-ah” Chan said, his tone soft yet serious. He reached out, his hand lightly ruffling Hyunjins hair in a comforting motion. Unlike Felix, Chan’s face didn’t hold a smile this time. His expression was sombre, reflective of the reality of the situation. Of what could’ve happened if…

“Let’s just focus on getting you better, yeah? We’ll take it day by day.. and you’ll never be alone. Not as long as we have a say in it.” Chan looked at Felix, who nodded supportively and gave Hyunjin’s hand a soft squeeze.

“Just….try to get some more rest, okay? we’re not going anywhere.”

_______THE END____________

Soo, I got this idea and started writing some things about it back in December actually.. it’s been very on and off since then, and I hope it is a decent result at last😅

I’ll probably have to read through it at some later point and fix on it or something but…. I’ll let you have it now, either way✋🏽 Bon appétit

[fosterwhat]

We went away for part of winter break, which is a story for another time. Kids had fun. Traveling with 3 kids was a lot. But we survived.

And then the day we got home I started feeling sick. And then sicker. Turns out I have Influenza A. I have not been this sick in years. My fever is hovering at 103 with Advil. Yesterday I could barely move, my head was pounding, I managed to get all three kids out of the door and to school. I’m so grateful the two bigger kids have bus service.

My dog has been an asshole. He doesn’t want to sleep in his crate (he got freedom from it while I traveled), and whenever I go upstairs he barks his head off. So I’ve been sleeping on the sofa, which is maybe better so my coughing doesn’t wake up the kids, but annoying and bad for my back.

It’s been a bad week. Please don’t let the kids catch the flu.

Also, feel the need to add that I got a flu shot. We all did. Go get your flu shots so you don’t feel like death! If I’m this sick with a flu shot, I would be hospitalized without one.

[sneezeshame]

someone laid up in a large, overstuffed lay-z-boy recliner, head rested on pillows and body wrapped in blankets pulled from their bed to make them more comfortable as they start to battle some kind of monstrous cold. it hit them like a truck just the day before, and now their bagged, heavy-lidded eyes are glazed as they stare blankly at the TV, breathing through their constantly parted chapped lips. they've crammed tissues up their flaming red nostrils in an attempt to just lie motionless for a while without having to tend to their stuffy, streaming nose, but every so often their breathing becomes heavier and their eyes wince closed as they hitch, pulling out their nose plugs and readying a thick wad of tissues from a box they've been pulling from for the past day. their sneezes are heavy, thick, and wet, and end with a flurry of sickly sniffling and a long, tentative nose blow, followed by a round of chesty coughs and a soft, stuffy groan from their parted lips.

they're very pale, they clearly dont want to do anything or even talk much at all, and they shiver under the blankets and ask their partner for an ice pack for the splitting headache they've developed. the expired cold medicine from the cabinet doesnt seem to make a dent, and when it comes for another round of nyquil their partner clocks their temperature at 101, creeping up towards 102. the sickie was wrong, and it isn't just a cold (as was obvious to their partner, who's never seen a cold this bad); in fact they're actually on day 1 or 2 of the flu, and a bad case of it. they're going to be spending the next 4-6 days slowly shuffling between their bed and the couch and recliner as their partner takes the guest bedroom, and it's going to get worse before it gets better.

the sickie takes this news better than anticipated, now feeling too sick to argue, and only sniffles miserably and says okay, then asks for something for the newly-sprung aches and pains all over their body.

"I think you're past the asprin we have," their partner says. "I might have to run out and get something a bit stronger for this."

"...Ogay..." the sickie mumbles, and sniffles. the first pricklings of chills are running up and down their body under their pajamas. "...cobe bagg sood...I dodd feel good add all..."

their partner leaves, and the sickie resumes staring blankly at the TV while they sniffle and cough, and their eyelids droop. they hadn't felt this sick in years, and while their partner had gotten their flu shot, they hadn't bothered. they had the feeling they would need to retreat to bed for a bit once their partner returned, just so they could lay motionless in the dark for a bit with their eyes closed and an icepack on their head, but they also didn't want to lose any warmth they had trapped in their sick nest in the lay-z-boy, or aggravate any aches more than they had to; maybe they would just stay put. but they would have to lay down in bed for the night.

the night was going to be rough, and they already feel horrible. they feel ten times worse than they had yesterday. they feel bad for having their partner do things for them. they feel miserable, like they're teeming with viruses, and they feel like their body is slowly melting into a heavy, mucusy blob of flu in their living room, unable to do anything but cough and sneeze and sleep propped up in the recliner, and indeed this last scenario is what they dream they are when they dose off and start into soft, congested snoring around the tissues they've stuffed up their nostrils, waiting for their partner to come home.

[bagalois]

100 days of productivity - 4/100

dec 23, 2024.

✔️ read "foundations of combinatorial topology" chapter 1 section 2 ✔️ get flu shot ✔️ get covid shot

🍉Walaa's GFM

notes. okay i know i skipped a day, i was tired. i did my flu shot and covid shot both yesterday, and i even managed to drag two of my friends to the pharmacy to get theirs done too. this stuff is important - im not just anti-anti-vaxxers, i'm specifically pro-vaccination /hj

so if anyone reading hasn't done their annual flu/covid shots yet - its not too late, you should go do it.

also, i never actually got to do the bathroom renovation w my father because he got up too late... another time.

today i read section 2 of chapter one in the topology book. this section was titled, "simplex. complex. polyhedron." that pretty much covers exactly what was in there - the section builds up to the definition of a polyhedron, which is defined to be the space "inside" of a complex.

an important quote from the end of the section:

The basic problem of combinatorial topology is the study of the topological properties of a polyhedron. In this respect, the complex plays a purely auxiliary role; it is used to determine the polyhedron and to construct its invariants. The customary way of constructing the invariants is to ascertain the properties of the abstract complex which determines the polyhedron, and then to prove that they are topological invariants of the latter.

i don't know if i needed to type that all out. maybe i am just collecting general statements about the nature of combinatorial topology for now. i would like to understand the overarching themes.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Sick and Green- Marvel One-shot- Hulk and Teen!Reader

You can find this work on my A03 as well!

This work is long, so I've put it under the cut

When Y/N woke up that morning, she still felt as miserable as yesterday when her flu symptoms had shown up. Now, as she realized with a sinking feeling, they were in full force. Unable to breathe through her nose, with a terribly sore throat and a pumping headache that just would not ease off, she tumbled out of bed to the kitchen.

“Nat?” she called, or rather, she croaked, “Cap? Thor?”

No sign of them, or any of the other Avengers for that matter. Y/N crossed the room to see a note on the kitchen island. She recognized Tony’s messy handwriting, but just because she knew it was his didn’t mean she could actually decipher it.

“Uh, Friday?” she asked.

“Mr. Stark has written that you are to take the two pills on the counter and to remain resting.”

“Ah.”

Y/N noticed the pills and a glass of water next to the note. She downed them, chasing them with the water until the glass was empty. She supposed she ought to make breakfast.

“Where is everybody?” Y/N asked, opening the fridge.

“Most of the Avengers are off on a mission in Sokovia. They expect to return in three days.”

Y/N closed the fridge, finding nothing that she wanted to eat. She opened it again, as though that would magically make food appear.

“Three days… ugh.”

“Tony said you should not be walking.”

The gruff voice that spoke was definitely not Friday. Y/N froze. She slowly turned around and was face to face with the incredible Hulk. Or, as Tony sometimes called him, the not-so-jolly Green Giant.

“H-hi,” Y/N squeaked.

Hulk just fixed her with his signature deep frown.

“What is Cold Girl doing up?” he demanded.

“Well, I- I was gonna make breakfast…”

“No. Cold Girl sick. No making anything. Back to bed.”

“But-”

Without another word, Hulk picked her up and took her back to her room. He was surprisingly gentle as he deposited her under the covers.

“What does Cold Girl want to eat?” Hulk asked.

Y/N gulped. She instantly regretted doing so, as the action made her throat throb and ache. Maybe eating wasn’t such a good idea. She couldn’t imagine swallowing anything, and she told Hulk as much.

He shook his head.

“Stark says Cold Girl has to eat.”

“But-”

Hulk was gone, lumbering back to the kitchen. Y/N sniffled, grabbing a tissue and blowing her nose. She felt relief for about two seconds before snot flooded her nasal cavities once more. She blinked slowly, and started to drift in and out of sleep. She would’ve fallen into a deeper sleep were she not being woken up every few minutes by the sounds of an angry Hulk trying to get the kitchen appliances to bend to his will. Kitchen appliances could sense frustration though, and it only made them more unyielding.

Y/N was drifting back into wakefulness when Hulk tapped her on the shoulder. She blinked awake, looking at a bowl of cinnamon-apple oatmeal in his large, green hand.

Hulk sat her up and deposited the bowl in her lap, watching her expectantly. She sighed, and started to take tiny bites of it. If she could smell what she was eating, she would wager it would be pretty good. Even so, it was palatable enough with a stuffy nose.

“Thank you,” she said.

When she couldn’t eat anymore, Hulk took the bowl from her and set it on the nightstand.

“Cold Girl sleep now.” Hulk said.

Friday closed the smart curtains and dimmed the lights. Y/N yawned and gradually went back to sleep.

…

Avengers Tower was on fire. Y/N sprang out of bed, trying to douse the flames with her powers. A beam fell on top of her, its weight crushing her to the point that breathing became difficult. The smoke took on ghastly forms of villains like Viper, MODOK, and Ultron.

Y/N awoke with a start, her eyes fluttering open. A thin sheen of sweat coated her forehead, and her breathing was labored. There were at least three blankets piled on top of her, and one of them was weighted. Her eyes became heavy again.

No no no no no, she thought.

She was about to fall back into the nightmare when something shook her a little.

“Bad dream?” Hulk asked gruffly.

Y/N sniffled, waking up properly. She nodded.

“Y-yes.”

Hulk stuck a thermometer in her mouth. After a while, it started beeping loudly. He read the number.

“Puny Banner says you have a fever.” Hulk grunted.

“Fun,” Y/N groaned.

Hulk removed some of the blankets. The heat was replaced by chills that caused her entire body to tremble.

“M-m-m-maybe th-the b-b-blankets weren’t s-such a b-b-bad idea,” she chattered.

“Hulk knows what to do,” he said.

…

Y/N shivered in the ice bath. Normally, such intense cold would be a welcome sensation, given her powers, but today it was almost unbearable.

“C-can I c-c-come out y-y-yet?”

“No!” Hulk said.

Several agonizing minutes went by before her fever came down enough to get back in the bed. Y/N bundled herself up in the blankets, grateful for the warmth. She could feel Hulk watching her as she fell asleep.

…

The Avengers made it home that night, much earlier than expected. The Quinjet landed on the tower’s landing pad, and the team filed out and headed to the main quarters.

“Kid, we’re home!” Tony called.

“We were victorious as usual!” Thor added.

Hulk came stalking into the entrance. He held a finger to his lips, glaring profusely.

“Quiet. Cold Girl is sleeping,” he said.

“Sorry,” Tony whispered.

“Apologies,” Thor added.

…

Y/N stirred and saw Natasha looking down at her.

“You’re back?” she mumbled, “how long was I out?”

“We got done early,” Natasha explained, “how’re you feeling?”

“A little better, kinda,” Y/N said.

Natasha smiled. She was about to say something when Tony’s shouting cut her off.

“Hulk, you walking biohazard! What did you do to the kitchen!?”

Y/N stifled a giggle.

“I take it Hulk made you food then?” Natasha asked.

Y/N nodded.

“It is Stark’s fault for making buttons too small for Hulk!” came Hulk’s sharp reply.

“Too small for-!? Why didn’t you let Bruce do it!?”

“HULK CAN DO ANYTHING PUNY BANNER CAN!”

“Right, right, of course, sorry, don’t mention Puny Banner…”

“YOU THINK HULK CAN’T!?”

“Well,” Thor’s voice chimed in, “if the state of Stark’s kitchen is anything to go by…”

Hulk roared, then the sound of metal hitting flesh made Y/N wince.

“Mjolnir does not care for your volume!”

“I’m gonna go make sure they don’t knock another hole in the wall,” Natasha said.

Black Widow rushed out of the room.

“Guys, what did we say about fighting in the house?”

Y/N chuckled to herself. She settled back in bed. She drifted off right as someone punched a hole in the wall.

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[foster-the-world]

Ready

Ready for the weekend. I put in some overtime this week so I already felt like yesterday was Friday. Working hard to accumulate 40 hours so I can take the girls on a fun vacation next summer.

Wishing we had off work so we could be at home enjoying our children instead of paying a lot of money for a sitter. He's going to take them to see Wild Robot today. I wanted to see it but we can go again if they like it. All day alone with all three is tough so I'm glad they have something to do. We also left out the girls bike/baby boys scooter.

I'm getting my hair done tmrw. Alone time = wonderful. Sunday the girls and my husband are going to a cool museum. His cousin got them tickets for Bee's bday. I'm thinking I'll take baby boy somewhere fun outside. We are both scheduled to get the Covid/Flu shot on Sunday night. Bee has an annual physical on Tuesday. We called to see if she could get the Covid shot. They said they won't know until the day off. =Annoying.

We are checking in with the doctor about Bee still wearing a diaper at night. The internet and past visits tell me no one worries until 12yos. She just turned 8. We assumed eventually the problem would disappear but it has not. She has had constipation issues in the past. We have recently started having her stop drinking an hour before bedtime, go to the bathroom right before and then my husband has her go again around 11pm. Her diapers are still full. She doesn't seem bothered. I'd totally leave it alone if it wasn't for sleepaway camp. I didn't even think about it when we signed up. We may try the drug to see if it works. I think we would only do it for camp and a test run beforehand. The internet tells me some kids are able to put a diaper on right before bed without anyone noticing. Not sure we want her to do have to feel like she has to hide. But also don't want kids making fun of her. Let's see what the doctor says.

I've been listening to the ADHD Dude podcast. Personally, I think I am more into their philosophy then the idea of "kids do well when they can, don't force kids, plan C everything for as long as needed" philosophies. The two can come off as obnoxious know it all's but when I get past that I think their authoritative/loving parenting style fits more with my personal ideas. Maybe its a Midwestern thing - my parents were def a little tough but extremely loving with us. I believe it has served me well. I def find the balance really difficult - especially with baby boy who has some very real challenges. But for now I'd like to have high expectations for all three of them. They don't believe in PDA at all. They believe the social media PDA people are preying off parents who are seeking any answer. Baby boy doesn't present with those PDA symptoms so luckily I don't have to worry about it. At least not, yet. He will completely ignore our request but he's not very oppositional. They also brush off sensory processing disorder. Or rather it as a stand alone diagnosis. They say its just a part of autism or ADHD. Which I can agree with.

After a rough month with him he's now been doing really well. Although he has been fighting sleep at night. I assume getting back to the normal school schedule is good for him. We've been running the track most nights. He zooms past so many people. I started putting the cones out - so he can jump over them.

[contentment-of-cats]

Quick notes:

Beanie had surgery on Wednesday and is recovering at home in the Beaniehouse. Basically I took the modular kitty cube and built a hospital room on the bed. Pain meds, antibiotics, and a onesie that pisses her off. Stitches out on the 20th.

Had my flu shot Wednesday and it got up and kicked my ass yesterday. It's as swollen and red as my COVID shot was, and I have a fever and aches.

Will be doing Merry Chissmas as much as I can, but maybe only for myself. I have a crapton of medical stuff in December and hope I will hear that I am in remission.

The other kitties want a special room and special food. Moki climbed in with her for a bit. He is vocally worried about her, and has perched where he can watch her.

[shion-yu]

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me” and “leave me alone” from the prompt list for whoever you feel it fits the most!

Day 25: High fever

Finally getting to this ask with these prompts for @medwhumpmay! Ft. A grumpy sick Alex and Ryo being annoying. Takes place directly before Day 23. Thank you so much for the ask @salembutnotthecat, you’re awesome.

Waiting for Alex to admit he’s not feeling well isn’t a fun game. Ryo knows this from experience, because a sick Alex is a pissed off Alex who tends to have a wicked tongue. He tries not to fuss because of this, but sometimes he feels like he has to because Alex simply doesn’t know when to quit.

Like right now - Ryo is absolutely positive that Alex is running a fever. He’s been in a bad mood since yesterday, his face is pale and blotchy, and he keeps closing his eyes as if trying to convince himself to stay upright. Ryo can only watch him for so long without saying something.

They’re walking back to the apartment when Alex finally stumbles. Ryo automatically grabs him by the arm, not that he wasn’t watching carefully for this to happen the entire time.

Alex growls and shoves him away, leaving Ryo resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Leave me alone,” he snaps. “I’m fine.”

“Alex,” Ryo sighs. “Are you seriously gonna keep playing this game?” Alex doesn’t answer and Ryo knows the answer is yes. Alex is a master at this game. He’ll push himself until he either gets better or physically can’t push anymore.

Apparently though, that limit is coming sooner today than usual because the second they reach the apartment elevator, Alex mumbles, “Fuck” and goes down. At least he would have if Ryo hadn’t caught him.

He’s burning up, Ryo realizes regretfully. No wonder. Pushing through a sore throat or a cough is one thing, but a high fever like this is a lot harder. Alex must feel like shit. He snakes his arm around Alex’s back and holds him up. “Almost home, babe,” he says.

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me… I was fine this morning,” Alex mutters. Ryo frowns. A sudden onset of such a high fever isn’t a great sign, and it’s flu season. Alex is notoriously bad at showing up to any of the doctors appointments Shu makes him, and Ryo wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot to get his flu shot this year. He's been so busy with his music after all.

“It’s okay,” Ryo reassures him. “We’re gonna get you in bed and you can sleep and whine all you want from there.”

Alex snorts weakly. He allows Ryo to help him into their apartment though and sits on the edge of the bed as Ryo changes him into pajamas. “What other symptoms do you have?” Ryo asks him.

“My head’s killing me,” Alex says. “I just feel like crap.” At least he’s being honest now, Ryo thinks.

“I think you might have the flu,” Ryo says. “Just stay in bed and it’ll be fine, okay?”

“Fine,” Alex says. His complacency is even further proof of how shit he must feel. Ryo nods and gives his hot face a kiss. “What was that for?” Alex asks, glaring at him.

“Am I not allowed to give you a kiss?” Ryo raises one eyebrow. It’s going to be a long week dealing with a grumpy yet needy Alex, he thinks. “I won’t catch it if it’s the flu,” he guesses Alex’s thoughts. “Unlike you, I remember to go to the doctor.”

“Are you just gonna make fun of me the whole time?” Alex snaps. “Coz if so-“

“No no,” Ryo says quickly. Well, not the whole time. Maybe some of the time. He doesn’t always get such a captive audience in Alex, after all. He holds up the thermometer with a wild grin. “Now open up, or I’ll have to take this another way.”

When Alex punches the device out of his hands, Ryo expects nothing less.

[softxsuki]

Hello! Could I request a letter for your Valentines Day Letter Event? I’d like one with Pro!Hero Bakugou with Pro!Hero Fem Reader. Her quirk is Storm (like the marvel character) and she can affect the elements (earth, wind, fire and air) . I’d like if he called me ‘pretty girl or baby girl' in the letter! We’re not in an established relationship, but everyone is sure he has a crush on me since we work so well together.

Tone/Genre: adoration and angst to fluff (ish) where he apologizes and confesses his feelings after i told him friend that he doesn't treat me like i am his type.

Location: we live near each other and we're around each other often; we basically work in the same office. i went to work to see the letter and other trinkets left on my desk.

Other info: We work super well together and i also like him, but i feel as if i’m not his type that he would go for, so i hope he would explain how dumb it is for me to think that way. He also only allows me to work with him, even though he finds my flirting "annoying" We are also 23. Thank you!”

Bakugou's Confession Letter to His Patrol Partner

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader | Genre: Fluff | Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 600 |

Warnings: slight language bc hellooo he's bakugou

Note: Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you enjoy your letter from Bakugou!

Your mind keeps running over what happened just a few hours ago. Kirishima had heard rumors going around that you and Bakugou were dating, and all you did was laugh him off, saying how Bakugou would never like someone like you.

But had you said too much? Did it make it obvious that you liked Bakugou even if your feelings were most likely one-sided? What if Kirishima told him and Bakugou started avoiding you? You had been up all night overthinking the situation. It didn’t help that today was Valentine’s Day and you felt sad that it would be another year that you were alone, mentally occupied by your grumpy work partner. 

What you didn't know was Bakugou had been listening in on your conversation with Kirishima as you practically gave away that you liked him and he immediately came up with a plan to make sure you knew he felt the same way. Though he was a little dejected that you thought he wouldn’t like someone like you.

The next day you show up at work and see an envelope on your desk with your name on it. Thinking it was a letter from your boss about a mission or something, you casually sit at your desk and open it;

Y/N,

Look, I don’t know why you’d think that I couldn’t like someone like you. What does that even mean? But…I’m sorry if I made it seem like I wasn’t interested in you, because I am. You’re the only idiot in this place I can actually tolerate. You don’t annoy me like the rest of these extras that call themselves heroes, and you’re talented and good at what you do.

So yeah, I do like you and that’s just how it is. If you’re wondering how I know this, shitty hair didn’t say anything to me, even though he should have because he’s my so-called friend and already knew how I felt about you, but I overheard you speaking with him yesterday.

I’m sorry for listening in, but I’m glad I did otherwise I probably wouldn’t be doing this right now. I’m an idiot for thinking your flirting was just you being playful. I thought maybe that’s just something you did to everyone, as much as the thought of that pissed me off. Just flirt like that with me from now on, okay?

So now you know that i like you and I know you like me. What do you want to do about it? If you want to give it a shot, come to my office later and we can make plans for tonight. Might as well take advantage of this shitty ‘holiday’ everyone raves on about.

See you later,

Katsuki.

You look up in the direction of Bakugou’s office which was a few feet away from your desk, your heart racing in your chest. The shades to his office were open as you see his eyes already on you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, of course you were embarrassed that he had overheard you say that, but it turns out your overthinking was for nothing as the angry blond actually liked you back and was practically asking you out in his own way.

You see him raise a brow, as if questioning your choice. With a small smile, you nod in confirmation, you face getting a little hot before turning back to your computer screen.

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, yet excitement bubbled up in your stomach at the thought of going out with him later as something more than just coworkers.

Posted: 2/14/2024

[melodyplucked]

soooooo- i was definitely planning on getting writing done after work today but y'all ... i got both my shots yesterday (booster / flu) and while i did just get back from the office ... i am pretty much down for the count as a result of the reaction ... so i will probably not really be doing anything on any of the attached blogs or my multi unfortunately, since my symptoms have worsened through the day

i love y'all- will try to write tomorrow if i hopefully feel better, and maybe later tonight if my brain is cooperative for it...

[max--phillips]

This weird feeling in my throat is annoying. It had better just be because I talked a lot yesterday at work and not because I’m getting sick. I forgot to consider that because some of my coworkers spend time in schools, they also spend time around kids, who are Petri dishes for various illnesses and cold and flu season is right around the damn corner. I usually get my flu shot around the end of September but maybe I’ll get it next week before the long weekend so I have time to recover

[sicdios]

uhm idk maybe possible tw??

i cant handle this anymore my own body feels so uncomfortable at the moment I am having so much sensory issues rn and its not helping that fact i got my covid and flu shot yesterday it makes things so much worse since whenever i get that shit my sensory issues are through the roof to the point i may cry and honestly man i have no fucking clue what to do because it is starting to piss me off that im in paim + my sensory issues are through thr roof rn

literally feels like im at my breaking point in any moment

[thewritingsofgavincortez]

A short poem/ writing exercise:

To most today's modern world is nothing but constant and unrelenting chaos. As things are now everyday seems to be a historical event or something else agonizingly on going or concrete. But the day before today was exceptionally boring. It was the weekend so most people were in bed snoring, though the exceptionally mundine day content mood began soaring.

Indeed the day was peaceful, an ex-president had not been shot, the world was not particularly hot, though the woes of global warming were not forgot, the day was exceptionally boring.

People’s phones were not going off, the news was not breaking, all things considered the world was not shaking. Peace and apathy to all mankind, the nirvana achieved was simply sublime, there came a day of dull, without strife, argument or doubt, t’was a day of unimportance and to all humankind, great clarity and tranquility of mind.

From Tokyo to Timbuktu no man or woman on earth came down with some newfangled flu. That day leaders made decent decisions, the politicians did not stir society's pot, no new conflicts had arisen no sir they did not. There came a day when the world could hear it’s own thoughts. Yesterday almost nothing happened, no fakes, creeps or major criminals were caught.

With the wonderful slow none were too eager to reign in tomorrow. It was thought to be impossible. There was simply no way everyone expected the world's problems and troubles to return the next day. Going into the day after marrow, unfortunately for all of us, they’d be here to stay. When the day was over and closing, there was truly no reason to weep, cry or pout, we must take today to reflect on what this was really about. No need to despair or be over and out. Realize what is important, be zen and be stable, a future where we can keep our heads above water may soon be on the table. To see the world for what it truly is or maybe requires perception unclouded, careless, and free. What we had experienced was what life was meant to be. The world continues to be moved, something improbable had happened, need I say more not a day had been such a bore at least not since that particular day back in 1954.

(Sorry if the rhythms off it’s my first time doing this kind of poetry.)