#permanent jet lag

[vivid-vices]

you can't get jet lag if you never sleep

[scare-ard--sleigh]

folie a deux is my personal Bipolar Album of All Time just banger after banger of uncomfortably relatable tunes :' )

[kayl3ighsunflower]

.

[bananacakepie]

Why am i sad and staring at the ceiling instead of working for the entire day but as soon as i should be asleep i become super-productive and start doing sit-ups?

[pochaccoups]

cw — sfw, fluff, mingi is sick and sulky, reader is smaller than mingi

It’s not entirely weird for Mingi to be waking up at 11:27 a.m. Sure, he’ll get up at seven or eight on a day full of schedules, but there’s also days where he sleeps until two, three, four p.m whether it’s from jet lag or after staying up late writing. What is weird is the fact that he’s been asleep since eight p.m. yesterday.

A text from your boyfriend is what lets you know he’s finally awake, and you’re up from the sitting room couch in an instant, darting to your shared bedroom.

He’s got the covers pulled halfway up his face with just his eyes poking out to stare at his phone screen and you wonder how a six-foot-something man can look so small.

“Morning, baby,” you say, slinking over to his side of the bed so you can sit on the edge next to him.

“Morning,” he replies, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was quite literally in front of you, you’d be convinced that someone had kidnapped your boyfriend and replaced him with a complete stranger—one with a voice so deep that it rumbles when he speaks.

Your eyes widen and you giggle, but you can’t say you’re surprised at how he sounds. His voice is notorious for dropping several octaves in the morning. Usually it’s sexy, but given that he’d spent the entire day before complaining about a sore throat, you can’t find it in you to feel anything but pity for the poor boy.

“So, I called your doctor and he said you need to stay home for the next four to five days at the least,” you tell him, reaching for his muss of silver hair to tangle your fingers through it softly.

“What-no, I’m really fine!” he whines, pushing himself up to sit against the headboard. “I have to practice for the comeback, I can’t take a break right now.”

“You’re not taking a break, Gi, you’re going on sick leave. You kept me up all night with your sneezing and coughing,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, only to melt as soon as he gives you his big, round, puppy eyes.

“But it’s just a cold…”

“Well, the doctor ordered it. Besides, I’ve already called Hongjoong and your managers. And I took work off today and tomorrow so I can stay home with you.”

For a split second you swear his eyes well up with tears. “You did?”

“Of course,” you tell him. When Mingi is sick, he turns into a four week old puppy because he can’t be left alone, or a newborn baby who needs a pair of eyes on him at all times so that he doesn’t suffocate to death. So when you tell him you’ll go make him some food and tea, he wraps his excessively giant hands around your body and clings to you, like letting go of you would mean he’ll succumb to his illness.

“Gi, you need fluids. Please let me go,” you remind him, but he only holds you tighter and you know it’s partly out of spite and partly because he’s just like this—a velcro boyfriend.

“Mingi, I’ll be two minutes, then I’ll come right back, okay?” you tell him.

“No, you won’t, I know you,” he says, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s pouting. It’s a permanent feature of his face by now.

“I will! Why else do you think I took work off, huh?”

He’s silent then, and a moment later his arms fall loose, and he lets you go, but you leave a kiss on his forehead as an act of promise to him and shuffle back out to your kitchen.

Spurred by your boyfriend’s neediness, you gather leftover rice from the fridge, chicken broth, and a handful of vegetables with haste and start to boil the concoction that your mother taught you how to make, the one that got you through not just fevers but through heartbreaks, losses, and cold winters.

“The most important ingredient,” she would say, “is a sprinkle of your heart”—though Mingi deserved more than just a sprinkle.

The kettle boils away and your stew bubbles with life in no time. It’s also no time before a giant, warm, sniffling body plasters itself to your back and buries his face into your neck, practically bending in half to do so.

You can’t say you don’t see it coming. Still, the spirit of your mother possesses you when you drag out his name to scold him.

“Why aren’t you in bed, dummy?” you question, though you’re careful not to have any real aggravation in your voice toward him. Admittedly, you adore the way his body heat wraps around you like a blanket, although you’re sure that’s just his fever.

“Missed you too much,” he mumbles, nuzzling his nose and lips against your shoulder.

“I told you I’d be two minutes,” you sigh.

“It’s been more than that already. You lied. I knew you’d lie.”

“It was hyperbole for ‘I’ll be super quick’.”

“Then you should have said that.”

You place your wooden spoon down on the counter, turning to face your boyfriend with a fond smile on your face.

He looks adorable. Unbelievably so. Mussed up white hair, a dusting of pink on the apples of his cheeks and the pointy tip of his nose, puffy eyes that still sparkle at the sight of you. You might be the luckiest human on the planet.

You bring your hands up to his face, grabbing at each of his cheeks and squishing them gently between your fingers.

“My poor, sick princess,” you coo, watching his dimples make an appearance when he gives you a goofy, content smile. “Do you wanna watch a movie? Or a show maybe?”

He nods his head, still smiling so sweetly.

“Go pick something and I’ll finish up your soup,” you offer.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

You stare at him, unamused, though you know this very well—Song Mingi cannot live without your kisses. It’s why he was crafted with the softest, prettiest, heart-shaped lips, so that you could kiss them over and over and over again until the end of time. There are exceptions, however.

“I’m not catching your virus! Is that what you want?”

“No, no, on my forehead again!” he clarifies, his features suddenly muddled with worry because he would suffer from this cold for the rest of his life if it meant you would be healthy for the rest of yours. You wonder, though, if he knows how badly you wish you could take his cold and suffer it for him.

“Oh, well then yeah, duh,” you say, standing on your tip toes and gently pulling Mingi’s face towards you so that you can plant an overly long kiss on his burning forehead and pull away with a “mwah!” that leaves him utterly beaming.

Finally satisfied, he shuffles off back to the room, leaving you to brew his tea and serve up the stew into two bowls.

You grab flu tablets from the medicine cabinet, noting that they’re almost all gone and you’ll need to go to the pharmacy to get more. For today you have enough, so you place them on the tray along with the stews and tea and make your way back to your bedroom.

Mingi is curled up under the covers again and it’s so cute that you hate to disturb him, but he unfurls himself and sits up as soon as he sees you with a tray in hand.

“What are we watching?” you ask, slowly settling on the bed next to him and laying the tray down on the mattress.

“I think Attack on Titan, if you want to,” he says, full of fondness as you hand him two tablets to take.

“Oh, right, you’ve been wanting to watch that! Of course I want to,” you tell him, because you could never pass up the opportunity to see Jean Kirschtein in action again. You’ve missed him dearly since the show ended, though you have no doubt of the sulking and pouting you’ll get from Mingi when he comes onscreen.

Your boyfriend’s eyes go comically wide when he tries your soup and you laugh because he almost chokes on it.

“Is it that good?” you chuckle.

“It’s really good,” he responds.

“Good, because I put all my love into it.”

He hums, his face glowing pink as he eats another spoonful. “I can tell. Thank you for making this. And thank you for taking care of me. And for putting up with me.”

“Anything for my princess,” you giggle. “But I’m not ‘putting up with you’, idiot. Is it hard to comprehend that someone cares about you, Mingi?”

He stares up at you with his shiny eyes as though you hand-crafted the very sun, moon, and stars and placed them in the sky yourself.

“I love you,” he says, a mere whisper. It’s three words he’s said to you a million times, but right now, with his walls down and him vulnerable, it’s worth a million times more.

“I love you too,” you reply, leaning over to smack your lips against his temple. “Now watch the show!”

And he tries, he really does—but your little hospital patient is fast asleep by the third episode.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | teaser | jww

(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: ~1k for the teaser (full fic here) warnings (for the full fic, teaser has none): art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, very brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, ambiguous ending, smut warnings on the full fic

a/n: this fic is for the amazing world tour collab for @svthub. i'm excited that i got to be part of it! the full fic will be posted on june 28th. if you'd like to be tagged, leave a comment, send an ask, or fill out my permanent tag form here

taglist: @aaniag, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality

Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged. 

His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs. 

Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look. 

“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.

“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.

“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh. 

The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.” 

“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.” 

“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures. 

You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window. 

“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. 

“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”

Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card. 

“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you say and he smiles. 

It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.

“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.” 

“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel. 

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease. 

“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “It wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.” 

“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”

He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.

“Late for something?” you venture. 

“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.” 

“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.

“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.

“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.

i hope you enjoyed this little snippet!

[allthecanadianpolitics]

You've likely seen or heard reminders online or on the radio to set your clocks and watches an hour ahead as we approach daylight saving time on Sunday, March 10, at 2 a.m. local time.

The extra hour of daylight lasts until Nov. 3 this year, when the clocks are turned back an hour.

While some prefer the extra hour of sunlight, others like Irene Shone think changing the clocks twice a year is hazardous to our health. She created a petition through Change.org calling on the federal government to permanently stop daylight saving time, with nearly 75,000 Canadians signing on as of Friday.

"Having the clocks move forward by an hour is not the norm, it's something that people are forced to get used to," Shone told CTVNews.ca. "That adjustment period feels like a sort of jet lag." [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Never Say Die [3]

Part one | part two | you are here | part four

Steve wobbles into the room, as expected its just as bare as the rest of the house. There weren’t even curtains on the window yet. The bed was barely put together, Steve’s guess was Hopper quickly put the bed frame together the night before just so him and Joyce could sleep on a proper bed. He wobbles next to the adult a bit as he faintly hears everyone’s voices from the living room. Not a shocker there. They were all bound to start talking about how or where he came from sooner or later. His hair is deflated, he catches a glimpse of his reflection from a fully body mirror that was only propped up against the corner. Not properly nailed into the wall. He can’t help but imagine Joyce using it to get ready for dinner dates.

Hopper pretty much carry’s him the rest of the way. Squatting down a bit to help him lay down. “You good kid?” He asks. His voice is gruff, and Steve could tell that within the six months he’s been gone Jim Hopper was one of the numerous things that changed. He seemed light, like he wasn’t carrying the world as heavily as he used to on his shoulders. There were worry marks permanently etched into his forehead, but that was like a birth mark for the man. The guy was a worrier. And he had every right to be.

Steve nods his head with a pained grunt. Flopping himself back carefully into the pillows that were placed purposely on the bed. He huffs a bit more as he gets his body situated. Barely able to keep his eyes open all of a sudden. “Yeah- sorry I think the jet lag is hitting. I haven’t slept longer then two hours since-“ he pauses. Not finishing his sentence. Hesitating in a sense. He frowns, changing the subject with ease. “Are you sure you’re okay with me sleeping in your guys bed?” He didn’t want to be a bother.

Before Hopper can answer Joyce is walking in with fresh clothes. The ones Steve were wearing have been on his back for a few days now. To concerned to get back home to go clothes shopping. “Robins going to go and get you some fresh clothes. Figured she could bring them over tomorrow after she heads home for the night.” Joyce rambles a bit. “Though you’re fine. You just came back from a war that none of us even knew existed. You deserve rest.” She smiles sweetly.

Steve still feels guilty but nods anyway. Putting on his best smile as he runs a hand through his hair. Feeling disgusting, he was definitely going to beg them to allow him to take a shower later. “Ok- but where will you guys sleep?” He asks defeated.

“Out in the living room, not like we haven’t slept on a floor before.” Joyce laughs gently. “Or Hopper will get the recliner in and he can sleep there while I sleep on the couch.” She hums gently.

“Absolutely not, we have a blow up mattress. I’ll get it situated once the kids are gone.” Hopper grumbles, Joyce looks smug as if she knew that already. As if she was messing with the other man. Steve laughs softly, unable to help himself. Moving and curling up ready to pass out. Dozing off within seconds, the slight migraine he had earlier kicked his ass.

When he wakes up, he doesn’t even realize he fell asleep. Quickly sitting up in the bed with heavy breathes. Unsure where he was. Pulling his shirt off from his sweaty body was the first sign of business. He felt like if he left it on any longer he was going to die from heatstroke. Turning his head, he glances out the window. Panic dissolving as he remembers where he was. He was at Joyce’s place, with not one single Russian in sight. He was safe. He moves rolling out of the bed. Rubbing his face as he glances to the side seeing that it was nearly three in the afternoon. If there was a word for over over sleeping that would be exactly what he just did. Groaning he turns around rubbing his face, leaving his back to the door for a second.

He hears the door creak open and he’s stiffening up as he quickly turns on his heels. But apparently not fast enough, as Robin stands in the door way holding a pile of clothes. Mouth wide open. He quickly moves tossing a shirt back over his body. Hiding the numerous scars, bruises, and the one tattoo that he got tied down to receive. His heart races as he awkwardly folds his arms around his chest. Unable to look at the other, not wanting to see the glossy look in her eyes. “What did they do to you?” Her voice is shaky. She’s frozen in her spot.

Steve takes a deep breathe as he walks forward. Moving his hands out to hold hers, that we’re currently holding a old pair of clothes. He meets her eye, “Robin - you don’t want to know.” He says. Seconds after he says the last word, she’s hugging him tightly. Crying all over again.

“I’m so sorry Steve. I should have been more help,” she’s fully sobbing again. Steve winces a bit taking a mental note to never get shirtless in front of the group ever again. He moves a hand gently to rub her back. Kissing her head.

“No- Robbie. You did everything you could’ve. You’re fine. Nothing you could have done could’ve prevented this from happening.” He says softly. Carefully rocking her back and forth. Before he hums, “now. I know you want to hug me but I’m sure that I smell like literal shit right now:” he laughs.

Robin sniffles a bit more, “you kind of do. But you now also have snot all over your shirt it that makes you feel any better:” her laughs are a bit muffled and god did Steve miss this. He hums gently as he plays with her hair a bit.

“Ewww.” Steve pretend to gag before he smiles softly down at her when she pulls back to look up at him. “You’re fine. Now I’m going to go shower, and when I come out I expect you to catch me up on everything.” He grins as he takes the clothes from her hands. Moving to go shower. Grabbing soap from Joyce before hand.

******

Steve expected for everyone to get over the shock value of him being back a lot sooner. It had been agreed upon that he would be hiding out in Joyces and Hoppers home until they figured out what the cover story was for Steve being alive. After all the entire town believed he had died in the star court mall fire. Though, every time someone came over it was like more tears were greeting him then words. Especially from Robin who has definitely been the more emotional one. Clinging to him for dear life.

Dustin on the other hand, seemed a bit more skeptical. Before he was moving and gripping onto Steve for dear life. Right before trading him a new pile of comics. All of the new releases that he had missed since he had been gone. Steve had moved from Joyce and Hoppers room. Refusing to stay in there any longer, and found himself sleeping in a guest room. What was awkward, was living under the same roof with your ex girlfriends boyfriend. Sure. Steve had quickly come to terms with what happened at the prison. But it still stung a bit.

He didn’t have feelings for Nancy any more. Quickly recognized and came to terms with that when he realized that it was Robin’s and Dustin’s faces that pulled him through the every torturous day at the prison. What had once been Nancy’s face pulling him through traumatizing times was now replaced with those who he’s loved way more then he has ever loved Nancy. It was a platonic love, one that he recognized that he was willing to die for if it meant keeping Dustin and Robin safe. Which he literally did.

Near death experiences and a lot of time alone in a cell, Steve learned that there was a lot more important things then a high-school sweetheart who probably never loved him back. He wasn’t sure. What he did know was that Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were the two keys to his heart. And both equally the most hugest dumbasses he’s ever met.

“Wait? You’re telling me you went on top of a fucking trailer and had a whole concert to distract the bats? And you- you went into the loony bin with a psychotic murderer to do a interview?” Steve asks. Trying to wrap his brain around the story Dustin and Robin were telling him. Next to Dustin was Eddie. Who had driven him here, and Steve wasn’t the jealous type but it seemed like the guy kind of took his place when he was gone. Though rationally, he knew he was being dramatic. He definitely owed the guy a thank you for saving the little shits life.

Eddies clapping his hands, a wide grin on his face. “You’ve finally got caught up. After that Vecna was killed and well- this little shit broke his ankle in the process of saving my ass.” He laughs. Moving and looking down at Dustin with a tight smile. A pained one. One that Steve recognized all to well.

“Well-” Steve says with a chuckle. Shaking his head. “I definitely need a drink after that.” He jokes. Moving to stand up and head to the kitchen. Relieved when Dustin and Robin don’t automatically hop up to chase his heels. He’s sure if they kept at it he was going to have to surgically remove them both from his ass.

He moves to the fridge. Pouring himself a cup of lemonade. Carefully sipping on it. No alcohol was in the house, or else he might have done a shot to recover from what ever the fuck he just heard. He leans on the counter, looking down. He really should have been here. His brain is going a mile per minute, and he’s overwhelmed again. Moving to his ear he shuts the aid off, needing a moment to not listen. Focused on his breathing. It was growing more difficult for him to talk about the upside down with them and hold his secrets about what had happened to him.

But it was better none of them knew. That’s what he was convinced of. If he couldn’t protect them from the horrors they had faced here, he would protect them from the horrors that surrounded him.

One tap on his shoulder and his body is moving faster then his brain can think. Body slamming whoever touched him against the counter. His eyes grow wide when he realizes what he had just done. Seeing Eddie wincing, hand moving to hold the back of his head from where it caught on one of the shelves. Steve steps back, quickly turning his ear back on.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. It’s just- I’m just- fuck. I had my hearing aid off and I kind of freaked.” He rambles apologies out. Hands shaking as Eddie watches him carefully.

“You know, that’s exactly how I had been when I was on the run. Always jumpy, scared, ready to to do anything to survive.” Eddie says gently.

Steve looks confused, trying to see what the other was getting out. “What I’m trying to say is, you’re brain is still on survival mode. It’s okay. I understand.” Eddie laughs. Hesitantly patting the others shoulder. “If you met me when I was on the run, I’m sure I would have body slammed you at least once as well.” Eddie admits before he smiles reassuringly. Seemingly a little awkward as well.

“Um- I’m going to just.” He says awkwardly. Moving and leaving Steve alone in the kitchen once more.

And shit. Steve really feels like a whole new level of fucked up compared to what were also very messed up kids.

Ngl I just came up with a idea for the next part 😭 I’m really enjoying writing these, and having them a bit smaller then what I normally write. (Which I hope you guys don’t mind. Normally I write longer parts but with my week being stressful lmao but if you guys do mind I can make a attempt at making them longer) that and I have a busy day tomorrow I figured why not post this a bit early. I’ll try getting the next part up tomorrow but I’m unsure.

Tag list; (let me know if you want to be added, I added everyone who wanted to be tagged :) if you don’t want to be on the list let me know I’m knew to making them)

@totallynotagoraphobic @flustratedcas @shunna @spookednsaucy @steddie-as-they-go @estrellami-1 @xxbottlecapx @gregre369 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thing-a-ling @radioactiveartz @bestwifehaver @idkwwhatimmdoiing @goodolefashionedloverboi @bringmethelow @thescribblerdragon @starman-jpg @lilaclilyroses @resident-gay-bitch @wolfscreations @adhdsummer @victor-thee-corvid @happymediummm @decadentworld @sidebarre @foundintheshallows @jamieweasley13 @yellowdevilkitten @catlovesfandoms @gryffindorsareidiots @thephantomhood @vampireinthesun @awkwardgravity1 @itsall-taken @gezell-igg @chaoskiro @daeb820 @liketheocean @croatoan-like-its-hot @malicia62 @thebrazilianatheist @anaibis @evix-syne666 @an-deeznutz @yikes-a-bee @0o-queendean-o0 @alyelf @starlight-archer @weirdandabsurd42 @zerokrox-blog @lolawonsstuff @mightbeasleep @michael-the-angelo

[rosewaterandivy]

the long ride home masterlist

On what is arguably the worst day of his life-- passed over for a producing gig by a band he brought to the label, and a break-up brought about by his longtime girlfriend-- Eddie makes the mistake of answering the phone. Only to learn that his deadbeat shitstain of a dad, Al, has finally kicked it. And it falls to him, as the sole progeny, to retrieve his remains from the southern delegation of the Munson family. So begins an odyssey of surprising proportions and what could very well turn out to be the road trip to ruin. "... And the fact that I'm going home to kill myself really has nothing to do with you, Al."

pairing: modern!e.m. x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW & MDNI - strangers to lovers, angst, death (just Al, offstage), grief, suicidal ideation, drinking, smoking, daddy issues, homecoming, Appalachian setting, found family & blood relations, religious trauma, southern dialect, and vernacular, smut, Elizabethtown inspired, ST canon divergence with references to FOI, eddie is in his early 30s as is reader.

SERIES

I. Permanent Jet-Lag

TBD...

LORE & STUFF

initial idea

moodboard

chuck & cindy jonathan & argyle!

playlist

teaser

snippet from cee's request weekend

TBD...

[oddinarylani]

epilogues to 'i just wish you cared about me'

pt 1: chan, lee know, changbin, hyunjin

a/n: part twos to continue off of the original post, i'll work on maknae line soon.

𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴

there was a sea of green surrounding you. mountains covered in a wash of evergreens intermingled with low hanging clouds and misty fog surrounded the house. the air smelled different there, the humidity nearly smelling sweet - it was fresh and green and freeing. chan had chosen the vacation spot himself and surprised you with the trip, asking you to pack your things and not ask any questions until you arrived. funny enough, when you both arrived, you were too breathless to speak, instead leaning your cheek into his shoulder with awe, your arm wrapped around his waist as your eyes feasted on the display before you. black detailing accentuated the house against the greenery of the forest, it stood out proudly - strong. nearly every wall was lined with floor to ceiling windows, and a waterfall cascaded on a cliff side just across the second floor balcony. 

“chris…” you turned to him, still sleepy and jet lagged from the flight over, a hat sitting low on your brow. “you-you didn’t have to do this.” he grasps your hand, luggage in the other, and lead you to the front door where he keyed in a code to enter. “of course i did.” he chuckles cheekily, smiling as he pulled you inside and left your bags by the front door. 

inside was just as beautiful as the outside of the house, similar black detailing with dark wood accents. your lips remain permanently parted, eyes wide and agape with awe. “i think i might cry, honestly.” you laugh a bit, your hand coming to cover a small bit of your mouth as your eyes watered with happiness. 

you wouldn’t have guessed that seven months into your relationship with chris that you’d be smitten, head over heels, and everything in between. “no noooo, don’t cry.” he grabs you by the waist to pull you into his arms, swinging you from side to side as giggles fill the room. “this is crazy, no one’s ever done something like this for me before.” you laugh more when you feel the water building in your eyes, feeling beyond happy. 

“well i’ll just have to be the first, hm? you deserve it!” his sweater clad hands find your face and your cheeks squish together a bit as he does so. he’s bare faced and so adorable it makes your heart wrench - everytime he smiles it shows in his eyes and the corners of his mouth smoothly wrinkle. it didn’t matter what he did, what he wore, or how he looked - your heart would soar with adoration every time you looked at him. 

“this is- i can’t- how long are we staying?” you ask, hands still resting around his waist. 

“fourteen days.” it’s followed by an attempt to wipe the smug smile from his face, but the house fills with his laughter anyway when he sees your reaction.

“christopher! oh my gosh!” you bury your hands in your face as you feel the tears will actually spill any moment now. 

“it’s okay, baby, it’s okay. i got off work for youuu and i pushed my deadlines baaack, it’s all good!” he wraps you in his big arms again and you quickly follow, burying your face in his chest. 

seven days on your trip, halfway through, and you never wanted it to end. your home was beautiful but this was different. every morning you woke to rain and the sound of the waterfall on the opposite mountainside waking you from slumber with kisses to your ears. coffee was shared with chris on the balcony, he’d wear a jacket with nothing underneath and shorts and it wasn’t the first time you admired him, no, absolutely not, but this trip brought something different out in him. 

he was effortlessly gorgeous. the milky bathe of his skin against his clothes always made him look the prettiest. in reality, he didn’t have to do much to look beautiful. he just was. it made you want to scream, but also made you long to just stare at him a moment longer. the heart shaped curve of his lips, the darkness of his hair, the spread of his collarbones and chest, the column of his neck - you could go on. 

sleep still weighed on your eyes, but you looked over to him one morning with your head resting on the chair you sat on. mist wafted through the crisp air - you wore only his shirt and underwear so the morning breeze kissed your legs and brought goosebumps in it’s wake. “hey, look at me.” you had said. “hm?” he raises his head and looks at you, really looks at you, and feels a bit of flush creeping up his cheeks at just the sight of you looking at him. 

“you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.” 

and maybe it was the lack of filter you faced in the mornings or it was just the swell of your heart in your chest, but either way you were left with a flustered chris in your hands - his cheeks and ears red and his eyes looking elsewhere. “stop,” he draws out, face in his hands. “i should be telling you that.” 

“oh we can make this a battle, i’ll win for sure.” you’re confident, the rain picks up a little. 

“you think so, huh? bring it on.” 

cue you proving effortlessly that he was prettier - though he argued back easily (still red in the face though) it ended in a draw. the decision never made, and chan now truly puddy in your hands. 

the rain yet again woke you from slumber, your eyes remained closed for a moment more as it bring you from sleep in the quiet haze of your bedroom. chan laid next to you, sprawled though his hand remained on your waist, the other tucked up under his pillow. his hair was curled and sweet and he looked so peaceful. peaceful like you’d never seen him before. he wakes a moment later and you’re already reaching for your camera. 

“noooo, don’t take pictures yet. let me put on makeup or something.” he chuckles, burying his face into his pillow as his bare back was now exposed to you. 

“let me, please? you look so pretty right now, i have to.” 

he let you, only after coffee and when he’d woken up some more. you returned him to the bed with his hand in your own, and you told him to just sit. 

he gets himself comfortable, shaking out his hair some more before covering his legs in the covers and looking at your lense. “there, like that.” you kneel one knee into the bed and snap a photo at the perfect angle. you take some more of him sitting up, a few as he stretched and the light hit his ripple of muscle adoringly. his body was perfect to photograph, all that hard work showed in his muscle pattern, the depth and reaches of his skin as it naturally contoured. 

you order him to lay down now, which he does so on his side with his hand supporting his head. “hey,” he nods his head. “how you doin?” of course, since it’s chris, he can’t finish it without laughing. “you’re a dork.” you smile behind the camera, still snapping one in his ridiculous pose. 

you snap more until you have him lay with his head on the pillows and you swing a leg around to straddle his waist. one hand naturally comes to rest on your hip, the other tucks into the pillow behind his head. “so handsome.” you smile, snapping some before he pauses, smiling softly to himself. you lower your camera a bit as his hand comes to rest on your cheek, his thumb stroking your soft skin. 

“i love you.” he says, suddenly. your cheeks flush, but you have the perfect idea. you bring your camera back up with his hand steady on your face still, and snap a picture. 

“i love you more, baby.” you kiss his palm, sitting back on his lap as he leans back up, now resting on his palms as you look over the last few you’ve snapped. his hand reaches perfectly just out of frame, and you admire the shine of love in his gaze that you’ve managed to capture. 

“you look so sweet here,” you frown, showing him the photo. 

he groans, ever his own worst critic. “show that to no one, please.” you lean forward, pressing a kiss to the side of his face. 

“oh it’s gonna be my lockscreen for sure.”

𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴

bathed in warmth, heart pumping, blood rushing, washing over your cheeks with a warm flush - putting pinks in your skin, keeping you warm - minho’s careful sweet gaze flutters over your face with admiration of your existence. you were alive. wildly so. it shows in the cuts in your cuticles, the bruises underneath your skin, the redness under your eyes when you were tired, your need to eat - to bathe - to sleep. minho’s gaze turns somber, looking over your face as if he was thinking (he always was)

he’s positive the last of his humanity has left him. he can’t remember. 

how your hair curled around the pillow, looking up at him like he hung the moon and stars in the sky. “what’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the stained pink corner of his mouth, and running your thumb over it. he takes your hand before you can pull it from him, turns it over smoothly to kiss your knuckles. “nothing.” it’s simple, sealed with a smile, and he leans back into his palm to look over you in your bed. 

“you’re thinking.” you note simply, holding onto his hand to feel the ripple of chill off his skin. “i’m always thinking.” his brow raises, ever smug as minho typically was. 

your eyes roll lightheartedly. “that i know.. what i don’t know, is what troubles you.” 

his lips tug to the side, you could see his brain working now, wondering if he should tell you or not, pondering over the possibilities. his brow furrows again, this time he looks over your hand, admiring the shine of gold on your finger, reminding you of your love forever awaiting.

“what you said, a few nights ago. about wanting to be changed. that’s what troubles me.” 

you frown softly, wishing to wipe the concern from his handsome face - worry didn’t suit the gold gleam of his eyes, you liked it better when he was smiling. you push yourself to your elbow, matching his gaze now. “i know it does… but it’s a wish i have to stay by your side.”

“you can live out the rest of your days by my side, grow old and i’d still love you.” he assures. 

even just at the sound your heart breaks. “but i want to live centuries with you, i won’t be beautiful when i’m old.” 

his hands smooth over your cheeks, fingers parting when they meet your ears, and he raises your gaze to look at him. “i’ll always want you, even when you age.” 

you smile softly, leaning forward to press your lips to his own just once before parting. “i still wished to be turned. i think it would be cool.”

“cool? my centuries of torment were cool?” he chuckles, laying beside you now. “i didn’t mean it like that! but we’d be a cool power couple.”

minho yet again is left with the tangle of his feelings, unable to make up his mind, feeling as though he wouldn’t please you no matter the outcome. the reality of becoming a vampire was a death beyond comprehension, he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. yet, the idea of ever having to leave you behind tortures him as well. 

“i wish you saw the value in your life.” his voice is soft, a level of sentimental you rarely saw in him. he always kept composure, always quick with a comeback - fast with wit. but to see him melt in the face of your request, leaves your chest aching a bit. 

you shuffle closer to him, cupping the back of his head to let him roll to rest on your chest. “i do have value, i promise you. but i’ll always want you.” your fingers stroke through his hair. 

“this-” he grabs your hand, admiring the heat coming from your body. “this heat. your heart-” his hand falls to your chest, feeling the beat steady. “blood. and warmth. is what i admire. what i miss.” every bit of you is warm, minho could melt to this heat every time he touched you. 

“there is one thing you’ll want more than me when you become one.” 

your head quirks, looking down to him on your chest until his golden gaze meets yours. “blood.”

you came to an agreement over the following weeks - you’d decided long ago your love for minho, and remained firm in your request. the change would be a few feverish days until your heart would stop and you’d eventually turn, he prepared the castle in that time, and stood by your side from the very moment his fangs sank into your neck. 

the fever was unbearable, a few hours of writhing between sleep which you could barely catch. minho would come in with soft words and glasses of blood to soothe the ache in your bones. 

everything stopped when your heart did, and the fever melted away in a few hours. you stood from the bed in your night dress, hair falling over your neck where your bite seemed to stop throbbing. upon trudging to a mirror - you see the shine of gold in your eyes, the stretch of fangs in your mouth, and the beauty in your frozen complexion. 

“m-minho-” you call weakly on wobbly legs, moving to the door where you nearly collapse into it’s frame. 

he’s there in the blink of an eye, catching you before you can fall. “did you-” when you look up at him, he freezes in the gaze of your eyes, his chest aching in a way he hadn’t felt in years. 

“my god,” his hands find your cheeks, he brings you in, firmly kissing you. “you’re so beautiful, so so beautiful,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you before you both melt to the floor. 

he told you endlessly of your beauty when you were human, but every time he said it you still felt the flutter of butterflies in your chest. maybe it was the phenomenon of vampiric attraction, but you felt like the bond between you was getting stronger by the second - almost leaving you light headed as he cradled you on the red carpet. 

“that was… really hard. glad it’s over.” he sees the lethargic energy of your limbs, the slow blink of your eyes, and he smooths his hands over your hair, leaning in to kiss you once more. 

“i know, my love. but all is well, you thirsty?” 

“like you could never believe.”

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴

changbin had left earlier in the day for a family meeting, and you’d decided to surprise him for your date tonight. your few friends you had in the business had let you know that they were busy, so you were taking off alone with enough savings that a little surge of excitement shot up in your stomach at the thought of your plan. you grabbed a coffee before walking in, pushing your sunglasses up into your hairline, greeting the associate that welcomed you and asked for your card to hold on the back counter. 

“dressing area four is open, an associate will help you with your fitting shortly.” the man had nodded his head in quick thanks as he walked your card to the check out counter. a glass of champagne was offered to you as you sat, waiting for the assistant to bring out a few selections. 

your marriage was changbin was ever impressive in your mind. of course, neglecting the analytical side of you, the one you perfected for your line of work - it was nothing short of a miracle. but he changed. did you ever think it possible? maybe. in some hopeful section of your heart, you longed for the best in him. months and months had gone by since your accident, your wounds turned to scars, your sourness blossomed into something much more beautiful - it was a testament of your own growth. you loved him. truly and terribly. and you wanted nothing more than to continue this journey of life, to see where it would take you. the thought of him made giddiness arise in you, and you weren’t like that. not with anyone. besides him. 

“i’m looking for a nice dress to wear to a date tonight with my husband, i really want to surprise him.” you explained, tucking your hands into your thighs. they asked a few more questions about color, fabric, style, and length of your preferred vision before walking off to bring other suggestions. 

“this is tom ford, spring collection of twenty-nineteen.” the assistant explains, handling the dress with gloves as he holds it by the hanger, giving it a wide birth to feast your gaze upon. your eyes dance over the stretch of fabric, an off-the-shoulder and black velvet masterpiece. 

“i’ll try that.” you nod, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket - quick to pull it out to see your husband’s name across the front. 

“hey!” you say cheerfully, changbin chuckles. “hey, babe. what’re you doing?”

the assistant hangs the dress in the fitting room, you disappear behind it’s curtain after thanking him, putting your phone between your shoulder and cheek to shimmy it off the hanger. “oh nothing, what about you?”

“hmm, i don’t know, sounds like you’re up to something.” he hums, behind the sound of his voice it sounds like he might be in a car - wind rustling and a faint honk in the distance. 

“nothing for you to worry about until our date, now tell me what you’re up to.” he can hear the smile in your voice, completely contagious he catches himself smiling as well, gripping the steering wheel as he weaves through city traffic. 

“ah, i see. i’m on my way to the second meeting, just wanted to call and see what you were up to.” 

you start pulling on the dress past your legs, feeding an arm through with your phone still expertly wedged with your cheek. “ah, how was the first one?” you wonder.

he tells you the first meeting was terribly boring, as the both of you expected. a few updated trials for members who’d been caught, he’d even seen your parents. quite a few operations were changing, and the second meeting was for more exclusive members of the family. you’d finished putting on the dress, even zipping yourself up before walking out of the fitting room, saying your goodbyes and wishing him a well afternoon. 

the assistant has nothing but amazing things to say about the fit of the dress and the way the mid-section compliments the waist accentuation - with that you were sold. all you had to do was go home and prepare for the rest of the date, high on the feeling of your short phone call, anticipating the look on his face when you stepped out in the dress. 

you wore his favorite perfume, the one he always complimented when you wore it, and styled your hair in a loose kind of fashion. “i’m home!” he calls from the entryway, the sound of the closing door behind him alerts you as you finish up on your hair, adding finishing touches to your makeup. “i’m getting ready!” you call back. “the restaurant called, making sure we were good for our reservation.” 

you separately got ready for the date for a moment, music playing quietly from the speaker near your vanity, when changbin stepped out of the shower to dress, you’d slipped into the closet to find your dress, shimmying it on, and stepping out a moment later.

since the neckline cut pretty low, you wore a simple necklace and other dainty type jewelry, your heel was low - changbin was standing in front of the full length mirror in the corner of your bedroom, fixing the collar of his button down before he catches glimpse of you behind him and he turns around, hands still fixated on his collar.

“baby, you look so beautiful.” he’s all smiles, coming up to you to grasp both of your hands. he’s dumbstruck, completely in awe - and holds your hands out to get a good look at you. “prettiest girl in the whole world.” he beams. there’s never been a moment he’s felt quite like this - at nearly every opportunity he looks at you he can’t help but smile. even when it’s five am and he wakes you up accidentally for a job. even when you’re standing in the kitchen with glasses on and your pjs are still on and it’s three pm. he’s never been so sure of something, so sure of you. how lucky he was, and how he’d never stop fighting to remind you you were loved. 

your heart swells with the sweetness in his words and eyes, you let him twirl you when he raises your conjoined hands, and you chuckle at his antics. “i was actually trying this on when you called,” your arms come to circle his shoulders, his own resting at your waist, eyes still dancing over the sight of you. “i knew you were up to something.” he says so positively. 

“finish getting ready, love.” you pat his shoulder, but not before he leans in - his lips pressed to your own for a brief moment before he continues getting ready. your heart beats wildly in your chest at the familiar fiery feeling of his lips, only smiling wider as he parts and walks back to the mirror.

“how’d i get so lucky?” he turns around, fixing a thin bracelet to his wrist. in his eyes in a kind of mischievous glint, you can only guess what he’d say next with a look like that in his eyes. 

“with what?” you ask, legs crossed on the bed, ever awaiting what would come out of his mouth. 

“with you.”

he’d surely be the death of you.

𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴

“i wish to paint you.” his voice left his throat, with it came the soft muffle as not to be heard from others. he was sat on his throne next to your own - his father and mother before him, draped in precarious colors and wraps of fabric, a scepter beside his father’s left hand, his mother’s hands folded curiously in her lap. 

your gaze bats to the sight of his face, how did he look when he said this? you wondered. so you looked. he was focused forward still, as if the sound never left his lips. “you wish to paint me?” you asked, cheeks terribly pink and hands beginning to fidget in your lap. 

“would you let me?” he angles his mouth only a fraction in your direction - the words were in fact spoken to you. you think for a moment, in the quiet of the chamber of the king, in the stillness of your own brain. he watches you blink, once, then twice, before you fully turn to him. 

“if it pleases you, of course.” 

you received what you’d been longing for - a loving husband. there was no one else in the world that you could share the kinds of conversation you could with hyunjin. he was always listening, always there, a promise he’d yet to break. it stole the breath from your lungs, the day and night change he was able to achieve. he’d proven himself time and time again that he did in fact love you - and you only hoped your love could show just as strong. 

in the mornings now, as you awoke from the maids, they’d learn to part after they had ensured the both of you were awake - as now you would dress for the day together. you’d slide his shirts over his shoulders, dressing him only after he had dressed you - that he made a point to do every morning. you button him with a tenderness only you could, drape his shoulder pieces - a half cape only meant to cover his left arm, and tentatively bring his long hair back into a half-up half-down style. this was all after he would slide your stocking’s up your legs, kissing just above your knee as he always did, loosely tying your corset to ensure your comfort, and slide his hands down your shoulders when he was finished, asking if you felt comfortable. 

routine with hyunjin wasn’t just routine or existence, it felt like living. like any moment was one where the excitement of what was to come next was ever waiting. he began contributing more to the communities in the kingdom that needed attention, you both taking time from your schedules to volunteer for those in need, working in the government of the kingdom to ensure everyone had equal opportunity to thrive. he’d also began opening up to you about his love for art - how it was something he’d done since he was young. 

frequently you’d find him on the stair steps of the art school, with children peering over the shoulders of their prince as he’d paint and sketch, teaching the young ones of art. 

“a-ah, hyunjin. is this appropriate?” you asked, your hands quickly darting to push up a loose strap-like sleeve of your corset, pulling down your frilled shorts in fear of them riding up your legs. 

he’s discarded his proper attire, instead wearing a relaxed white button down and brown trousers rolled at the ankle. his fingers carefully set a primed canvas on a stand just before his low sitting stool, his brow is gently lifted at the sound of your worried voice, and he walks to you, sitting down just before you to adjust the straps so that they laid off your shoulders, exposing your decolletage beautifully. 

“you look beautiful.” he promises gently, moving to grasp your hands in his chilly ones. slowly he presses forward to plant a kiss between your brow, and your face warms at the feeling, some of your anxieties soothed. “but are you uncomfortable? do you wish to change?” his thumb strokes over the back side of your hands.

“no, it’s okay. you wanted this outfit, and no one will see it?” the suppleness of your skin is only amplified by the gentle press of your corset, and though he is indeed your husband, and seen much if not all of your skin, the roundness of your legs extended from the shorts makes his heart swell with the sweetness. 

“you’re mine, i am yours,” he promises, his fingers tapping the underside of your chin. “you have only my gaze, no one else's.”

he asks for you to lay on the bed, the palms of your hands holding up your upper half as to accentuate the natural curve of your chest, the bone and muscle that lays beneath it - the softness of your legs, and the intimate draw of your clothing. 

“beautiful,” he says passively, fixing the sheets on the bed to ripple before he sits down to begin painting. 

“i’ll get the outline at least, to not have you sitting there so long. then i can do detail later.” 

“mm.” you nod, looking away as he begins to paint.

ten or so minutes into painting, the soft draw of the paintbrush on the canvas the only sound in the room, he speaks. “would you look at me, love?” he asks. and how were you to deny his request when he asked so sweetly.

“since you asked so nicely.” you smile, turning to face him. 

he smiles, chuckling shortly as he continues. now every time his gaze darts to your form on the bed, your eyes meet. a certain kind of adoration fills you - a love that causes your heart to swell fervently. to be painted by the hands of the man you loved so dearly, the idea itself melts you further to the mattress.

“wait-” he calls, sitting into his spine, looking over his work, then back to you only to get lost in thought.

“what is it, darling?” you ask.

“i have an idea.”

he nears you then, the palette of his paints on his hand - smeared, dried, clumped together from previous projects. only the finest of splatters of blue have tainted his shirt, he sits before you, drawing out his brush. 

“can i paint on you? just a bit.”

you nod, “of course.”

he steadies his first stroke, pinky resting on the skin of your thigh before he paints a long white stripe down the side of your thigh, smooth and straight. the paint is cold, his hands have warmed, he closely focuses, incorporating a swirl of green, and a tiny design of flowers around the white stripe and now what is a vine. you smile as he works, remaining still as ever as he does so. 

next, he leans forward, creating a similar design on the stretch of your neck where muscle runs up your shoulder to the column of your throat - there he paints a similar design. if you were still before, you were ice now, truly frozen as he worked strokes to his idea. 

when he finishes, he leans back and smiles, moving to kiss the side of your head before he moves back to the canvas. “there we go.”

you smile as he sits. “hey,”

his head lifts, looking at you expectedly. 

“i love you.”

shout out to bon iver for this one.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

The Grand A-Z List of Whump 2/3

This list contains ~174 items listed I to Q

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing as it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This list's intention is not to glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This is a comprehensive list of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[A-H] [R-Z] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

I

ICU

Identity reveal

Ignorance is Bliss

Ignoring an Injury

Immersion foot syndromes (Prolonged exposure to damp and cold)

Immobilization

Immortal healed wrong

Immunodeficiency

Impalement

Improvised medicine/treatment

Indigestion

Infected (Blood, Wound, Tattoo etc)

Infested

Injured caretaker carrying an even more injured whumpee.

Injured whumpee instructs caretaker how to treat them.

Injury Discovery

Injury Revelation

Insecurity

Insomnia

Insults

Internal Bleeding

Interrogation

Interventions

Intimate whumper

Intubation

Involuntary whumper

Isolation

Isolation/Quarantine

Itching

J

Jailed

Jamais vu (The experience of being unfamiliar with a person or situation that is actually very familiar.)

Jealousy

Jet Lag

Jumping (to safety, forced to jump)

Just dying in general.

K

Keeping quiet because the enemy is nearby

Keeping the whumpee awake

Ketosis (body burning fat for energy)

Kidnapped by the opposing team

Kidnapping

Kidney Stones

Killed! (Again and again and again for the lovely immortal whumpees<;3)

Kneeling

Knife through hand and into wall/floor

Knocked Out

L

Lab Rat

Laryngitis

Late realisation

Left for dead

Leprosy

Lichenberg scars/Lightning strike

Limited Medical Supplies

Live-Streamed/Broadcast torture

Lobotomy

Locked Up and Left Behind

Losing a Bet

Loss of appetite

Loss of reality

Lost (In the woods, city etc)

Lost voice

Low Blood Pressure

Lumbago (lower back pain)

Lupus

Lured into a trap

Lying

Lyme's disease

Lymphoma

M

Magical exhaustion

Magical healing

Magic whump (using spells to harm someone)

Manhandling

Major Character Death

Makeshift Splints

Malaria

Malnutrition

Manhandling

Mauled

Measles

Medical trauma

Medieval Torture

Memory Loss

Meningitis

Menstrual Cramps

Mental illness after being kidnapping (and addressing it)

Migraine

Military lovers

Military whump

Mind control/Manipulation

Miscommunication

Missing

Missing Person

Mistaken Identity

Misunderstanding

Mono

Mopping a sweaty brow with a cool cloth

Mudslides

Muffled Scream

Mugging

Multiple Sclerosis

Multiple Whumpees

Multiple Whumpers

Mumps

Muscular Atrophy

Mute

Muzzled

N

Nailed to a wall or floor

Nails digging into palms

Nail marks left in the whumpees skin

Natural Disasters

Nausea

Near-Death Experience

Necrosis

Neglect

Nerve damage

Nerve pain

Nightmares

No anesthesia

No goodbyes

Non-responsiveness

Nonhuman whumpee

Not allowed to die

Not Realizing They’re Injured

Nowhere else to go

Noxious (gas/fumes)

Numb

Numbness/Paralysis

O

Obsession (with finishing the mission, the whumper obsessed with the whumpee etc)

Open Fracture

Orthostatic hypotension (low blood pressure when standing)

Osteogenesis Imperfecta (brittle bone disease)

Outnumbered

Overdose

Overworked

Oxygen Deprivation

Oxygen Mask

P

Packing a wound

Panic attacks

Paralysis (this could be temporary or permanent)

Paranoia

Parent caring for sick child

Parkinson's

Passing out from pain

Passing out in arms

Permanent injuries that affect them long term

Phantom pain

Phobias (could lead to character stumbling and hurting themselves in an attempt to escape their fear)

Photographs/Polaroids ( Especially if they're of the kidnapped whumpee)

Physical Therapy

Piercing ripped out

Pinched nerve

Pinned Down/To The Wall

Plague

PMS

Pneumonia

Pneumothorax

Poisoning

Polio

Possession/possession recovery

Post-exertional malaise

Post-ictal confusion/any other symptoms (after a seizure)

POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome)

Power Fatigue

Praise (especially if it's from the whumper)

Pregnancy (morning sickness, self-conscious, hot flushes, tired and sleepy, general malaise, swollen feet, weird cravings...)

Presumed dead

Prisoner Exchange

Protecting friend from the whumpees own team (bonus points if doing it while injured)

Psychological Torture

Psychological Whump

Psychosis

PTSD

Pulled Muscles

Puncture Wounds

Q

Q-Fever

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

@I-eat-worlds | @greygullhaven | @letsgowhump | @cyberwhumper @firapolemos05 | @originaldeerhottub | @whumpilicious | @drawing-dinos82 | @carenrose | @stellarinuscronicles | @gottheseasonalblues | @marvelflame2010 | @sowhumpful | @avamcu | @courtneygacha | @lordofthewhumps | @autismmydearwatson | @kuddelmuddell | @the-most-handsome-ginger | @whirls-and-swirls | @painsandconfusion

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!

I have a request for either Aaron Hotchner or Loki Laufeyson (you may chose who fits best for you)

Reader gets a minor injury, character worries, some point reader falls asleep on their shoulder

A little angst but mostly fluff please

No specific gender or pronouns for the reader.

Anything but headcanon would be lovely

As a little note I very much like your navigation. I appreciate you so much. Thank you and have a lovely day

fem!plus size reader, wc: 441.

a/n: OHHH NOOOO MORE ANGST 😭 but with a happy ending because aaron deserves a hug!

cw! injuries & anxious hotch :')

It really wasn’t that big of a deal, just a bullet graze to the side of your thigh, but to Aaron, it was like the end of the world. He hated the thought of you getting hurt, despite the numerous times he hadn’t walked away unscathed due to unsubs with quite the vendettas. He could deal with getting hurt, but you? Never you.

He had that permanent scowl on his face the whole time as you sat on the step of the ambulance, watching as the medic wrapped up your leg. You could feel him staring, and you really didn’t want to have to deal with the scolding that he would deliver you with just his silence. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a twinge of guilt, but you rather it be you than one of your teammates, and besides, it really wasn’t all that bad… at least to you.

“You alright?” You heard Morgan ask as he approached you. You nodded, gently patting the bandage as you smiled up at him. “It burns, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” He chuckled, tugging you into a side hug by your shoulders. “Why does Hotch looks like his head is about to explode?” Emily was clearly amused by his dismay. You sighed.

You had never been more grateful to be on the jet besides the sometimes-awful jet lag. Practically waddling to your seat, you sat down with an exaggerated puff. You hadn’t noticed that Aaron had taken a seat next to you until you felt a large but lightweight hand settle over your injury, his thumb stroking it comfortingly.

“Are you okay? Does your leg still hurt?” He asked you quietly, as though he was afraid the others would overhear such a simple conversation. Your hand landed on his as you squeezed it, your head turning to look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay, and it only hurts a little, I promise.” Even though you were smiling softly, there was still worry swimming in his eyes, the type of worry you couldn’t quell unless he could reassure himself that you were here with him, that you were unharmed.

He searched your face for any contortions but came up empty handed.

You rested your head on his shoulder, your body relaxing fully, and before you knew it, you slipped into a state of unconsciousness. Hotch would only ever admit it to you, but he stayed awake to keep an eye on you, his stomach lurching at he a quirk in your eyebrow. He lifted a thumb up to smooth over the creases before pressing a kiss to your temple.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 4

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: Here's the first of the completely new chapters. I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I wake up to the deliberately annoying sound of my alarm blaring from my bedside. I look out at the still-dark skyline outside and slide off the alarm before checking my notifications. A smile instantly replaces my sleepy scowl as I read the messages that filtered in overnight.

I know it’s late, but I’m wired from sleeping on the flight… even though it was only three hours. I know I should be better at this flying thing with how much I travel for work but I guess I never learn Also…I could get used to you colliding with me 😉 God that was too cheesy, I’m sorry, forget I said anything, I blame the jetlag! I need to stop before I permanently scare you away if it’s not already too late. Good night

I smile at his dorkiness before dragging myself out of bed. As much as I’d love nothing more than to message him back now and text all day, my shift starts in an hour and I need to get ready first. I force myself through the motions of showering, donning my uniform, eating a light breakfast, and brushing my hair and teeth before slipping out the door. The sun is just beginning to rise overhead as I stroll through the quiet streets. As much as I’m not a morning person, I do enjoy this little slice of quiet before the rush of the day.

Once I get to the cafe, I greet the baker who is finalising the baked goods for the day. I help him stock the fridges, leaving the tray of burnt muffins on the bench in the kitchen as per his instructions and then open the store.

With the Christmas rush still in full swing, the morning passes quickly but leaves me exhausted. Once I finally get a break I take one of the slightly burned and therefore, unsaleable candy cane muffins and a bottle of water and sit at a small table out the back of the cafe. I pull out my cracked phone and finally allow myself to reply.

I sell festive drinks & snacks to people who haven’t yet had their morning coffee - It’s gonna take more than a jet lag-induced comment to scare me away Watching you behead someone on TV though, that was rough You sure I can trust you? I promise I’d never hurt you, that is unless I catch you draining someone of their blood Wait! Are you working? I didn’t mean to disturb you Not at the moment I can chat for a bit So, you promise you won’t drink anyone? I get queasy when someone cuts their finger, so no chance My show’s probably not for you then The eye candy’s worth it But I also live alone, so horror is generally a no-go That’s ok. As I said, it’s more interesting to me that you’re not a fan There are no expectations to live up to But eye candy, eh? I don’t know about Dean but there was the vamp was pretty sexy Till he lost his head anyway Oh…🥺 Nah, Dean’s alright too… Though I do think he’s the most scary. I don’t think he would take kindly to wearing a cup of hot chocolate Probably not But he’d find you charming He’d probably use it as an excuse to try and get your number He’d have more confidence than shyly writing his number on a coaster and hoping the pretty girl makes the next move You think I’m pretty? You don’t need to try and flatter me You’ve only seen me when I’m exhausted and covered in rotting milk If you’d seen me on a day when I’d actually put in some effort then maybe I’d believe you Then maybe one day I’ll have to give you a reason to dress up for me Take you on a real date You plan on coming back to New York? It’s not in my schedule yet But maybe in the new year Unless I can tempt you to come to Texas? I live in a single-bedroom apartment in downtown New York And I work in a cafe I can’t afford airfares and hotel accommodations in Texas at Christmas! How about if it was all-expenses-paid? Jensen…

Just as I’m typing a reply my colleague bursts through the backdoor. I check the time and realise it’s been over ten minutes since I came outside. I quickly type out a halfhearted excuse and shut off my phone before scurrying back inside.

Sorry, my break’s over. I gotta get back to work. Talk later

Despite going through the motions; making coffees, heating muffins, and delivering orders, my mind continues to wander back to Jensen’s offer and my lack of response. We barely know each other, how could I let him pay for a holiday in Texas? While a holiday sounds like heaven after working my ass off all year, I refuse to let it be at someone else’s expense, even if that person is a successful and wealthy actor. I refuse to be seen as a gold digger, even in my own eyes. Also, I can’t stand the thought of him finding out my true passion and then accusing me of using him to get a leg up in the industry. By the end of my shift, I decide to come clean about everything.

Back in my apartment, I shower again and change into comfy clothes before collapsing on the couch. I switch on the TV, not caring what’s on, just looking for a little comforting background noise. The random Doctor Phill reruns don’t take long to lull me to sleep.

The continual vibrating of my phone on the coffee table drags me back to the land of the living. I rub my eyes to wake myself up and check who’s blowing up my phone.

I’m sorry if I came on too strong I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable You’re right, we barely know each other I promise I’m gonna stop making stupid comments and just give you space I’m sorry again

I mull over the messages for a few minutes and type and delete multiple replies before mustering up all the courage I can and giving in and pressing the call button instead. I listen to the dial tone for a few rings before he finally picks up. Wanting to smooth things over before he jumps in all apologetically I rush to speak first as soon as the call connects.

“Look, I know we’re texting people, not calling people. But this conversation needed to be had like this.”

“Are you telling me to lose your number? Because I will if that’s what you want.”

“No. I just think we’ve been living in some fantasy, and maybe you’re used to that since you’re an actor. But here in New York, no matter how badly I want to be a performer, I have to live in the real world. Any handouts I take, and any relationships I make will be used against me.”

“A holiday is not a handout. But wait, you want to be a performer?”

“During the year, I took acting and singing classes. I also auditioned for roles on Broadway. But obviously, I didn’t get any of the roles. But I swear, I didn’t recognise you when we met the other day. And I don’t intend to use you to get a role. I’m not a gold digger. I want to do this myself,” I ramble, hoping he believes me.

“Hey, I’m not accusing you of anything. I believe you. I’ve met people who are just trying to use me, I know the signs. So unless you’re a much better actress than I’m giving you credit for..?”

“None of this has been acting. I promise.”

“I believe you.” I hear knocking and someone calling out from the other end of the line. “I’m so sorry. They’re ready for me. I've got to go do soundcheck. Can I call you back later?”

“Soundcheck? Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Bye, Jensen.”

“I’ll call you and explain later…or maybe tomorrow…I promise I’ll call you!”

The line falls silent and I sigh. I drag myself off the couch to make a sandwich. Just as I sit down to eat it my phone starts buzzing again. I glance at the caller ID and answer it with a smile.

“Hey, Stella!” I greet my best friend happily.

“Hey, Bestie! We still on for tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“You promised you’d help me with my wedding! I’m getting married in three weeks and there’s still so much to do!”

“Oh yeah! Of course! I can be there in say 30?”

“You’re the best, Bestie!”

“I know! See you soon!”

I hang up and finish eating my sandwich, clean up, throw on some warmer clothes and head out to catch the subway.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27

[shmaptainwrites]

Hello, could I request prompt 5 of Hurt/Comfort for Bobby Nash x reader please

of course bestie! wrote this one on the plane and am pretty jet lagged now so it’s poorly edited lol

Pairings: Bobby Nash x GN!Reader

Warnings: injury, hospitals

Appropriate

No one informed you that becoming a firefighter would permanently affect your reflexes. Particularly the act without thinking ones. So it didn’t come to much surprise to you or your team when there was an emergency on your day off that you would attend to it.

Off-duty saves weren’t particularly rare and most of the time all that came out of it were a few confused bystanders wondering how a civilian knew exactly what to do, but this time you seemed to have gotten yourself in a predicament.

Instead of only the parties involved in the accident leaving the site in an ambulance, you joined them too.

After your heroic move, the car that had slipped in a precarious manner, fell ontop your leg and most definitely broke a bone. The on duty EMTs patched you up to the best of their abilities and sent you off to surgery.

When you awoke from that with new metal screws in your leg that would take time and a lot of PT to get used to, your friend and colleague Ravi was already by your side, ready to get you anything you might need.

“Ravi, what the hell,” you groaned, shifting in your bed. “How did you find out about this?”

“After your sister moved you switched your emergency contact to me, I’m flattered you remember,” he said sarcastically. “I’ve been here since before you went in to surgery.”

“Sorry, must be the drugs,” you said with a wave of your hand.

“So an off-duty save huh,” he chuckled. “What happened to think before you act, Panikkar?”

“Out the window. I just reacted,” you chuckled. “Frankly, now that it’s happened to me I’m not surprised, it’s practically instinct.”

“What did I tell you,” Ravi reached a hand over to squeeze yours. “I called the team to give them a heads up. I think you’ll probably be getting some visitors in the next few days before you go home.”

“Good, hospitals are so boring and it’s not like I can go anywhere,” you pointed to your recently casted leg. “God the next while is gonna suck ass.”

“Yep, it sure is,” Ravi agreed with you and you rolled your eyes. He knew just how to make you feel better.

—

As Ravi had warned you, the next few days were filled with visits from everybody on the team.

Chimney came by with Maddie and Jee-Yun first, bringing you a much needed good cup of coffee and a sweet little get well card decorated by the young Buckley-Han.

The next day Hen came over. She brought a deck of Uno cards and you shared a few very heated rounds of the game which may or may not have ended in something closer to 52 pick up.

Buck came by next, he had offered to pick up some comfort items from your home and you practically melted when he brought you your dad’s old and worn college hoodie you’d had since you were fifteen years old. You both also spent time ranking the injuries the team had sustained at the firehouse, the list went on to your colleagues and was highly debated for the next few days after that.

Lastly Eddie brought Christopher over and their favourite telanovella downloaded on Eddie’s laptop for you to all watch together (not without many interruptions from you still trying to figure out what the storyline was).

After about a week and a half at the hospital on bed rest, Ravi was finally given the ok to move you back to your apartment. It took a lot of coordination to find a way to get you to fit into his car with the giant cast on your leg, not to mention him practically having to drag you out of the building. You were strong, but for some reason not strong enough to carry whatever the hell it was they wrapped your leg with.

When you were finally at home in your — thankfully — first floor apartment Ravi ordered something for dinner and you both sat on your couch to enjoy it.

“Hey Ravi, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

You stopped eating your food, and stared down at your take our container.

“Do you know why Bobby didn’t come visit me?” you said quietly.

“H-He didn’t?” Ravi seemed confused.

“No,” you shook your head. “Everyone else came just like you said, I was actually kind of surprised.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised too,” Ravi nodded. “You guys are close, aren’t you?”

“I mean I thought we were,” you shrugged and picked at your food. “Just a couple night before the accident we had dinner together a-and I had a really nice time I’m just…worried I did something wrong.”

“I don’t think you did anything wrong,” Ravi shook his head. “Just talk to him, send him a text, ask him to come over tomorrow night.”

“Isn’t that a bit presumptuous,” you raised a brow with a chuckle.

“You have a broken leg that’s casted all the way to your thigh, that’s not hot,” Ravi deadpanned. “Just text him.”

“Fine,” you pulled out your phone and typed up a text, having it proofread by your friend before sending it off. “And now we wait.”

—

The next evening you heard a knock on your door followed by,

“Hey it’s Bobby, spare key still in the same place?”

“Yep,” you called back, thankful he had asked. It was a nightmare to walk with a cast.

The lock of the door clicked and Bobby stepped inside with a a bag of what you assumed to be dinner, before closing the door behind him and locking it.

“Someone ask for room service?” he teased and you couldn’t help but raise your hand. It was definitely better than the hospital food and take out.

“I brought extras so I’m pack them up in the fridge and you just heat them up when you want to eat.”

You nodded at his instructions, but were perplexed by how normal he was acting.

“Hey Bobby, before we eat can we talk?” you asked.

“Yeah of course,” he said after putting the extra food in the fridge. “What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you come visit me at the hospital,” you blurted.

Bobby looked like he was expecting your question and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Would you believe me if I said it would have been too hard for me to see you in a hospital bed?” he asked.

“If that’s the truth,” you nodded.

“It’s just,” he paused. “I-After our dinner I wasn’t really sure where we stood. We never really talked about it, it just happened.”

You nodded, that was true, one thing had led to another and you didn’t have a lot of time to talk about what the implications of your dinner meant for your friendship.

“And I knew if I stepped into that hospital room I wouldn’t be able to be just your Captain. Or...just your friend.”

“Bobby,” you patted the seat next to you and encouraged him to come closer.

He did, taking his seat and watching as your took his hands in yours.

“I just wasn’t sure what was appropriate,” he whispered.

“I don’t care. I just wanted you to stay with me. I still do,” you said quietly, allowing your forehead to rest against his.

One of Bobby’s hands slipped out of your own and came to cradle your face.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come.”

“You’re here now,” you smiled.

He leaned in the few inches further and closed the space between you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“And I’m not going anywhere.”

[virgoilluminati]

World Class

next chapter

Chapter 4.

Previous chapter

A/N: hey guys! It's been a while, I'm so sorry that I haven't posted in AGES but I started Uni! And its honestly just one of the weirdest experiences of my life. This is the next chapter of this world class series, honestly dk when this will be finished or when the next chapter will be but enjoy :)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: y/n being main character lmao (the angst is so extra and unnecessary but i wanted to make this story so extra). Jude Bellingham being a cutie pa tootie and swearing lol. 💕

leahwilliamson

Liked by y/nmorrison, maryearps, lucybronze and 200,000 others

leahwilliamson we won the fifa match

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keirawalsh you may have won the battle but i will win the war 💥💥

leahwilliamson Leah 1, Keira 0. Easy peasy!

y/nmorrison @leahwilliamson I have now officially had a coffee overdose thanks to you two.

The soft morning light struggled to pierce through the curtains, and there you were, dragged into an unexpected adventure. Leah, the early morning dynamo and the team's captain, had leaped onto your bed with the grace of a ninja sloth.

"Rise and shine, superstar!" Leah declared, bouncing on your bed like it was a trampoline.

You, still half-asleep, attempted to process the bizarre situation. "Leah, what on earth are you doing?"

But Leah was on a mission, grabbing your wrist and dragging you downstairs like a determined detective chasing a criminal. Downstairs, in the living room, she pointed to the TV with the seriousness of an FBI agent about to crack a case.

"The TV."

You blinked, slowly realizing the gravity of the situation. "Leah, it's just a TV."

"No! It's FIFA!" Leah protested with the conviction of a conspiracy theorist. "I've been trying to beat Keira since the dawn of time, but she always wins. The only way I can beat her is by practicing."

You, still in your pajamas and jet-lagged from a recent trip to Spain, sighed. "When's your next game?"

"Today at 8 AM," Leah replied, her eyes gleaming with determination.

"So, let me get this straight," you said, trying to wrap your head around it all. "You woke me up at the crack of dawn to help you practice FIFA so you can defeat Keira at 8 AM?"

Leah nodded vigorously. "Exactly!"

You rubbed your eyes and reached for the coffee maker. "Alright, alright. But first, coffee. Lots and lots of coffee."

As you all gathered around the TV, your FIFA boot camp began. Mary joined in at 6 AM, bewildered by the early morning antics. "Leah, Y/N, what are you—"

But one glance at the TV, and she got it. "You've been sucked into the Keira vs. Leah saga, haven't you?" she asked, shaking her head.

You, already on your second cup of coffee, groaned and begged Mary to show you how to take a penalty kick, realizing that this absurd adventure had no end in sight.

As if on cue, the door swung open, revealing the towering figure of Bronze, the star defender. She surveyed the scene with an arched eyebrow and a bemused smile.

"What on earth is happening here?" Bronze asked, her voice a blend of curiosity and amusement.

Leah, still fervently determined to achieve FIFA greatness, answered before you could. "We're gearing up for the ultimate showdown with Keira. It's a matter of life and death, you know!"

Bronze chuckled, crossing her arms. "Alright, let me show you kids some of my international soccer wizardry." With that, she grabbed the controller from your hand and began demonstrating advanced maneuvers, earning impressed nods from the rest of you.

The living room had transformed into a battleground of FIFA enthusiasts, with tips and tricks flying faster than a Messi free-kick. The clock ticked on, the sun climbed higher, and the smell of coffee became a permanent fixture in the room.

Just when you thought your day couldn't get any stranger, the door creaked open again, and in strolled Daly. She eyed the chaos with a raised eyebrow, her imposing presence making the room feel smaller.

"What's all this commotion?" Daly asked, her deep voice cutting through the virtual crowd.

Leah, still on her mission to recruit everyone for the Keira vs. Leah face-off, eagerly explained. "It's Keira vs. Leah, Daly. I need to outmatch her at FIFA, and we're in intense training mode."

Daly considered this for a moment, then grinned. "Count me in. Let's give Keira a run for her virtual money."

With Daly on your side, your team was complete. The living room had evolved into a makeshift soccer arena, where tactics and skills were honed with determination. As the sun reached its zenith, you were more resolved than ever to dethrone Keira from her FIFA throne.

Keira, little did she know, was about to face a united front. A team of fierce competitors, armed with newfound FIFA skills, and fueled by caffeine and sheer determination, was poised to take her on in the virtual soccer showdown of the century. The saga had become a sideshow in itself, and it was only a matter of time before the epic showdown unfolded on the pixelated pitch.

The living room had been transformed into a battlefield of pixelated glory as Leah and Keira prepared to face off in the ultimate FIFA showdown. Each was seated on one end of the sofa, clutching their controllers like they were the keys to victory. On either side of the room, their respective teams had gathered, divided into passionate discussions of strategy.

Keira's dream team consisted of Millie, Chloe, Alessia, and Ella, all known for their formidable FIFA skills. The tension in the room was palpable as the match commenced.

Leah, her eyes fixed on the screen, whispered to herself with determination, "I've trained for this moment. It's time to show Keira what I'm made of."

Keira, on the other hand, couldn't resist a sly grin. "Ready to be humbled, Leah?"

The virtual soccer field came to life, but it wasn't just about the game; it was about the comical chaos that unfolded around it.

Millie cheered enthusiastically for Keira. "Go, Keira! Score that goal!"

Georgia, on Leah's side, leaned in and whispered, "I heard Keira practices her penalty kicks in her sleep. No pressure, though."

Alessia, trying to distract Leah, chimed in, "Hey, Leah, did you hear there's a new cafe in town? Great place to celebrate your impending defeat."

Ella, sipping on a smoothie, added casually, "Oh, sorry, Leah. Were you trying to concentrate?"

Leah's team wasn't about to be outdone in the banter department.

Daly couldn't resist mocking Keira. "Keira, did you confuse the FIFA controls with your phone again?"

Bronze joined in, feigning shock. "Oh no, Keira scored? Must be a solar eclipse or something."

Mary, pretending to be a commentator, announced, "And Keira makes a pass... to the wrong player. Classic Keira move."

The living room was a cacophony of shouts, laughter, and exaggerated victory dances. Even the cat decided to join the spectacle, chasing an imaginary ball across the floor.

Leah, nudging you for help, said urgently, "Y/N, give me some tips!"

You, struggling to concentrate amid the chaos, replied, "I can't, Leah! I'm still recovering from the espresso overdose this morning!"

As the match intensified, the score remained neck-and-neck, and the room's atmosphere became increasingly charged with suspense. It all came down to the final minutes of the game.

Keira, her nerves showing, urged her team, "Come on, team, we can't let Leah win!"

Leah, filled with unwavering determination, rallied her team, "This is it, folks! Let's show Keira what we're made of!"

Then, in a moment of sheer absurdity, Leah's team executed an unexpected maneuver, resulting in a goal that left Keira's team in stunned disbelief.

Leah's Team erupted into cheers, shouting, "We did it! We did it!"

Daly laughed heartily, "Looks like Keira's reign of terror is over."

In the final seconds of the match, Leah's team secured their victory, much to Keira's chagrin.

Leah, grinning triumphantly, declared, "I did it! I actually did it!"

Keira, grumbling and refusing to accept defeat, growled, "Rematch. We need a rematch!"

As celebrations erupted and laughter filled the room, the living room had borne witness to a chaotic, comical, and utterly unforgettable FIFA battle. The rivalry between Leah and Keira had reached a new level of absurdity, and it was certain that this saga would be recounted with laughter for years to come.

y/nmorrison

liked by judebellingham, leahwilliamson and 600,000 others

y/nmorrison football ilysm

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realmadridofficial thank you for coming to see us perform

y/nmorrison @realmadridofficial you guys never disappoint

y/nmorrisonno.1fan. Wait- she came all the way from australia? For a match?

user234 @y/nmorrisonno.1fan and it was jude's debut?

user345 are they making it official?

judebellingham

liked by y/nmorrison,harrykane and 900,000 others

judebellingham Thank you to everyone that came out. Tonight was extra special. 3 points up, we go on...

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user190 extra special for what reason jude? 😏

y/nmorrison no.1 fan <3

user2457 not y/n using the same comment as jude earlier this week!

user567 guys! they are soft launching so hard right now.

You sat in your hotel room in Australia and a phone call come through. You answered, and fran's voice came through the line, tinged with concern. "Hey, Y/N, it's Fran. We wanted to talk to you about Jude. He's been a bit down lately. Missing you, I think."

Your heart sank at the thought of Jude feeling lonely and stressed. "Oh, Fran, I miss him too. I want to do something special for him. Can you help?"

Fran grinned, even though you couldn't see it. "That's exactly what we were hoping you'd say. We've got a plan to surprise him before the match. Wear his favorite color and bring his favorite flowers. We'll make sure he is ready."

The Santiago Bernabéu stadium buzzed with electric anticipation as you prepared for your most anticipated match of the season. Jude, your beloved boyfriend and the newly signed star player, was about to make his debut in the iconic white jersey. The air was thick with not just anticipation but also an underlying sense of suspense in the locker room.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, you found yourself in Australia for the Women's World Cup, where you were a talented soccer player yourself. Your team had a few days off, and while you were enjoying the thrill of the tournament, you couldn't shake the longing to see Jude before his momentous match.

You had planned meticulously, coordinating with Jude's teammates for your surprise visit. You knew that blue had always been his favorite color, and you had chosen a stunning blue silk dress to wear for this special occasion. In your hands, you held a bouquet of fresh white lilies, knowing they were Jude's preferred flowers.

As you entered the stadium, your heart raced with excitement, but there was an undeniable sense of suspense in the air. The journey from Australia had been long, but you were determined to be there for Jude on this significant day. Your presence would serve as a symbol of your unwavering support for each other's soccer careers.

The match began, and the stadium roared to life. You sensed that something extraordinary was about to happen, and the suspense was almost unbearable.

As the final whistle blew, signaling Real Madrid's victory, the crowd erupted in jubilation. Jude had played brilliantly, scoring a crucial goal. The suspense that had been building throughout the match reached its peak, and the stadium lights shone brightly, casting long shadows across the field. The cameras and microphones surrounded Jude as the interviewer started asking questions about the game and how he felt scoring the goal.

skynews

liked by bbcnews,fifaofficial and others

skynews: Shortly after his much discussed transfer to Real Madrid, Jude Bellingham scores on his debut! Full interview in our bio.

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user120 his eyes are somewhere else...

user618 @user120 i think you mean on someone else 😏

user120 that boy is absolutely smitten 🥰

judebellinghamsswife this man is so fine, y/n is a lucky girl🔥

Jude began to speak, trying to keep his focus on the interview. But then, amid the chaos, his eyes searched the stands. And there, like a beacon in the night, he spotted you. Your blue silk dress seemed to glow, and the bouquet of white lilies in your hands was a vision of beauty.

The suspense that had been lingering suddenly exploded into a moment of pure astonishment. The crowd held its breath as Jude's face lit up with surprise and joy. His voice wavered as he answered the interviewer's questions, clearly distracted by your presence.

"You're stunning," Jude whispered, his voice filled with admiration as he gazed at you in your beautiful blue silk dress.

You blushed, a warm smile gracing your lips. "Thank you," you replied softly.

His eyes were locked onto you like a magnet, tracing every curve of your form. Unable to contain his affection, Jude leaned in and showered your face with a cascade of sweet, tender kisses, each one filled with his overwhelming love and joy at your surprise visit.

"Ew, Jude, you're sweaty," you teased, crinkling your nose as you embraced him.

"Just how you like," he replied with a playful smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile at his charm. You leaned in to hug him tightly, reveling in the familiar scent of his sweat and the warmth of his embrace.

As you shared this intimate moment, Jude's keen eyes caught sight of a nearby camera. Concern flickered in his eyes, knowing that your surprise visit might not sit well with some fans, and your typically discreet nature when it came to public displays of affection.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and cautious, "there's a camera over there."

You, ever fearless and passionate, followed his gaze and spotted the camera as well. Instead of pulling away, you pulled Jude closer, capturing his lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. The audience erupted into a loud cheer, their love and support for the couple evident in the thunderous applause.

Your relationship with Jude had always been a beautiful blend of openness and privacy. While you never officially announced your romance to the public, it was an open secret among your closest friends, family, and avid fans. You chose to softly reveal your relationship to the world, letting moments of your love story unfold naturally, leaving fans to connect the dots.

Your relationship became a game of reading between the lines for your followers, who delighted in the subtle signs of affection you occasionally shared. There were stolen glances and knowing smiles, but never a direct confirmation of your romance. Well, until now.

Jude, momentarily surprised, couldn't help but smile into the kiss. He realized that sometimes, the world just had to know about your love. As you finally parted, he whispered, "Well, I guess everyone knows now."

You grinned mischievously, "Let them cheer, Jude. We've got nothing to hide."

In the post-match interviews, reporters couldn’t resist asking Jude about that iconic moment. “Jude,” one interviewer grinned, “that kiss with Y/N at the end there was quite a spectacle. Can you tell us more about your relationship?”

Jude, initially taken aback by the attention but never one to shy away from his feelings, chuckled and replied, “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag. Y/N and I have been together for a while now, and she’s an amazing person. We met through our love for soccer, and it’s been a fantastic journey together.”

Another reporter, eager to keep the conversation going, chimed in, “Jude, your girlfriend is a phenomenal player on the Women’s England team. Can you share your predictions for her upcoming match?”

Jude’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Y/N is incredibly dedicated and skilled on the field. I have all the confidence in the world in her and her team. I predict they’ll give it their all and come out with a resounding victory. I’ll be there cheering them on, just like they were there for me today.”

Just as the interview was hitting a high note of positivity, a third interviewer, with a stern expression, jumped into the conversation. “Jude,” they began in a somewhat accusatory tone, “some people argue that women’s football is not the same as men’s football and that your girlfriend, Y/N, might have gotten away with some questionable plays. What’s your response to these critics?”

Jude’s smile faded, replaced by a determined look. He leaned forward and replied firmly, “I have to disagree with that sentiment entirely. Women’s football is just as competitive, skilled, and exciting as men’s football. Y/N and her teammates train just as hard, and they play with the same passion and integrity that I do. Accusations of cheating or undermining their abilities are completely unfounded.”

Jude’s words resonated with a sense of conviction, and it was clear that he was ready to defend not only his girlfriend but also the entire Women’s England team. The interviewer, taken aback by Jude’s strong response, quickly changed the subject, realizing that they had struck a sensitive chord.

hellomagazine

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hellomagazine Real Madrid and English football player Jude Bellingham spotted kissing and holding hands with fellow english footballer Y/N Morrison after she came to a real madrid match during her camp at the womens world cup in Australia.

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user156 leave them alone, poor guy looks so bothered

user350 poor guy is just trying to get to his car and protect his girlfriend

user103 i heard one of the paparazzi started harassing y/n, and he had to step in. Why can't people just leave them alone man. They are humans too!

But as Jude and you tried to leave the stadium, you find yourself surrounded by a persistent crowd of fans and reporters. Despite Jude’s best efforts to steer the conversation towards your respective careers and love for the sport, the questions about your relationship grew increasingly personal and intrusive.

“Jude, can you tell us more about your romantic getaways with Y/N?” one reporter pressed.

You, visibly uncomfortable, interjected, “We’d appreciate it if you could focus on our soccer careers and the game we love.”

But the questions kept coming, probing into their private moments, and both Jude and you began to regret ever announcing your relationship in such a public manner. You exchanged frustrated glances, realizing that your intention to celebrate your love had unintentionally invited a wave of invasive curiosity.

Before you could reach the safety of the car, the relentless paparazzi continued to hound you, snapping photos and shouting questions.

Paparazzo 1: (shouting) “Jude, over here! Tell us about your relationship with Y/N!”

Paparazzo 2: (shouting) “Y/N, how does it feel to be with Jude? Any wedding plans?”

Jude, his patience exhausted, turned towards the paparazzi, his voice filled with frustration.

Jude: (shouting) “That’s enough! Show some respect! Give us some space!”

His voice rang out, commanding attention, and for a moment, the paparazzi fell silent, taken aback by Jude’s sudden outburst. In that brief respite, he continued to guide you to the car, determined to protect you from the invasive questions and cameras.

Furious at the paparazzi who had continued to hound you with intrusive questions and cameras despite your distress, Jude couldn't hold back any longer.

Jude: (shouting) "Can you all just fuck off."

His voice carried a powerful anger, and for a moment, the paparazzi fell silent, taken aback by Jude's fierce outburst. In that brief respite, he continued to guide you to the car, determined to protect you from the invasive questions and cameras.

But before you could reach the safety of the car, the situation took a horrifying turn. An angry fan, infuriated by his team's loss, shoved you away from Jude with a forceful motion. You stumbled backward, your shocked expression giving way to one of disbelief and fear.

Jude's reaction was immediate and protective. His face contorted with anger as he stepped between you and the fan, his voice laced with a threatening edge. "Touch my girlfriend again and I'll fucking kill you. I don't know who you think you are, but you're a fucking idiot. It's a football match get over yourself.

The fan recoiled, shocked by Jude's intense response. The surrounding crowd, already outraged by the fan's behavior, now watched in stunned silence as security personnel rushed in to apprehend the individual responsible for the attack. They ensured that you and Jude were safe from further harm.

Once inside the car, the overwhelming emotions finally overcame you, and you collapsed into Jude's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Jude held you tightly, his protective instincts firmly in place, as you both sought refuge from the relentless scrutiny.

Inside the taxi, after the harrowing encounter with the fan, you and Jude found a moment of respite. Emotions still ran high, but the leather seats and the warm glow of the city lights outside offered a semblance of security.

Jude held you close, his protective instincts still coursing through him. The trauma of the fan's aggression weighed on both of you, but the taxi ride allowed a brief pause in the turmoil.

Y/N apologized softly, "I'm so sorry, Jude. I just wanted to surprise you."

Jude, gazing into your eyes, furrowed his brow in confusion.

"What?" he asked, curious.

You continued, "I'm sorry-"

Before you could finish, Jude cut in, a mixture of concern and frustration in his voice, "No. Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong. If anyone is in the wrong, it was that fucking fan. If I see him again, I'll-"

At that very moment, the taxi's engine roared to life, propelling you away from the chaos. The vehicle became your sanctuary as it glided through the city streets, the comforting embrace of the backseat cocooning you both.

A faint smile crossed your lips, appreciating Jude's protectiveness.

"You'll what?" you teased, looking at him.

Through the taxi's windows, the city lights passed by like a shifting dreamscape.

"I'll kill him.," Jude declared,before cringing. "He touched my girl. He atleast deserves a good punch."

As the taxi journeyed further from the ordeal, you and Jude found solace in each other's presence. Gratitude welled up between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the support you had offered each other during a trying moment.

Amidst the hum of the engine and the soft glow of the taxi's interior, you shared affectionate glances. The city's rhythm became the backdrop to your unspoken connection.

Jude winced slightly as you two shared another embrace, the ordeal now safely behind you.

"What?" you asked playfully.

"Nothing, it's nothing-" Jude replied.

You pressed further, "No, what is it?"

Jude couldn't suppress a mischievous grin.

"It's just... you smell like booze," he teased.

Smiling, you responded, "You like it."

With those words, you nestled your head on his chest, finding solace in the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. The taxi carried you both through the city, offering a sanctuary where you could cherish these moments of connection and affection amidst the chaos.

y/ns story

After the chaotic surprise at Santiago Bernabéu, Jude and you decided to make the most of your precious time together in Madrid and not let the match get to you. You strolled hand in hand through the enchanting streets of the Spanish capital, admiring the architecture, savoring delicious tapas, and enjoying each other’s company.

As you walked along the picturesque cobblestone streets, you couldn’t help but express your awe at the beauty of the city. “Jude, Madrid is incredible. I can see why you love playing here.”

Jude nodded, his eyes never leaving you. “It’s even more incredible with you here, Y/N.”

You found yourselves at a charming outdoor café, where you settled into a cozy corner table with a view of the bustling plaza. The warm evening breeze carried the scent of flowers and laughter from nearby tables.

Over glasses of rich Spanish wine, your conversation deepened. You talked passionately about your journey in the Women’s World Cup, describing the dedication and hard work that fueled your ambition.

“Imagine if you did win the World Cup,” Jude mused, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

“Jude,” you started, a hint of modesty in your voice.

“What?” He leaned closer, his gaze locked onto yours. “You must have pictured it! Imagine scoring the winning goal! It would be life-changing.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t help but smile at Jude’s enthusiasm. “Hmm, I guess.”

Jude chuckled, his hand reaching across the table to gently squeeze yours. “You guess! Y/N! You’d be everywhere, I’d be chasing you around. Billboard after billboard. It would be inspiring—”

You interrupted, your voice filled with humility, “It would be pretty amazing, wouldn’t it?”

Under the Madrid moonlight, Jude and you felt closer than ever. Your love was as boundless as the cityscape before you, and you knew that no matter where life's journey took you, you would face it together, hand in hand, just as you did on that unforgettable night in Spain.

Your conversation about the future and the Women's World Cup continued to flow, weaving seamlessly into your dreams of a family.

"Imagine the things you could do with that kind of influence," Jude continued, his voice filled with wonder. "The futures you could inspire."

Your eyes sparkled with the possibilities. "And imagine our future. Imagine our kids running around and being able to play wherever we are in the world."

Jude's heart swelled with warmth at the thought. "Now that's something I would love to imagine..."

As you gazed into each other's eyes, your thoughts turned to the family you both longed to create together. Jude's expression softened with a dreamy smile. "I've imagined it, you know. Two boys who look exactly like me, brown scruffy hair, brown eyes, and that mischievous grin of mine."

You laughed, picturing the future he described. "Two little Judes running around, huh? They'd be a handful."

Jude nodded, his gaze filled with affection. "A handful, but they'd have your spirit and determination. And then," he continued, his voice gentle and dreamy, "our little girl, a perfect mix between you and me. With your beautiful eyes and my stubbornness."

Your heart melted at the image he painted. "Our family sounds incredible, Jude. I can't wait for that day."

You held onto that vision of your future, where love, dreams, and the joys of parenthood awaited you. In that moment, as you shared your hopes and dreams under the Madrid moonlight, you knew that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacle life might throw your way.

The Madrid morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the hotel room where Jude and you lay tangled in each other's arms. The night had been filled with laughter and whispered promises, but the dawn brought the inevitable parting.

You sighed softly as you gazed at Jude's peaceful sleeping face. You knew you had to leave for your training camp in Australia, but the thought of saying goodbye tugged at your heart.

Jude stirred, his brown eyes fluttering open as he felt your gaze on him. "Morning," he mumbled, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you replied, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "I have to go soon."

Jude's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. "Can't you stay a little longer?"

You smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "You know I can't, love. Duty calls."

Jude sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "I'll miss you so much."

You returned the kiss, savoring the taste of him. "I'll miss you too, Jude. But we'll be together again soon."

You both reluctantly untangled yourselves from each other's embrace and got out of bed. Jude, determined to make your last morning memorable, surprised you with breakfast in bed. He had ordered a delicious spread of pastries, fruits, and coffee, arranging it all on a tray with a single red rose.

Your eyes sparkled with delight as you took in the sight. "You really know how to make a girl's morning special, don't you?"

Jude grinned, handing you a pastry. "Only for you."

You spent your morning indulging in breakfast, sharing stories and laughter as if time were standing still. But the clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, reminding you of the minutes slipping away.

As the moment of departure drew nearer, Jude showered you with kisses and cuddles, trying to make every second count. His lips found yours repeatedly, and his arms refused to let you go.

"I wish you didn't have to leave," Jude whispered against your lips.

You held him close, tears brimming in your eyes. "I wish that too, Jude. I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered, leaning in for a tender goodbye kiss.

Then, with a heavy heart, you stepped out the door, leaving behind a piece of yourself in Madrid as you embarked on the journey back to Australia, where training camp awaited. Your love would endure the distance, and you both held onto the hope of being reunited soon.

judebellingham

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judebellingham <3

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user1890 they finally announced it!

user3567 you guys!!! I am so happy for you

user2019 they are so cute!

y/nmorrison my no.1

judebellingham @y/nmorrison mine

[caseyjones-junior]

I don’t have the patience to write a fic about it but in my mind casey jr (who I imagine as 19-21) lives part time between the mad dogs, april, and drax whenever he’s not traveling the world. the kid has never had a permanent home, it’s weird for him if he’s not constantly pin balling. casey is a HUGE explorer and has been to many places (including other hidden cities), and will sometimes do weeks long expeditions

after a trip, the very first person who will see casey is draxum. casey goes straight to drax’s place to crash from the exhaustion and jet lag. In the morning drax will often find luggage dropped at front door, a cold tea kettle on the stove, and cj passed out on the couch— too tired to even make it to his room. drax tugs his boots the rest of the way off (cj gave up halfway thru the effort) then puts a blanket on him and just lets him rest

The reason cj goes to drax first is simply because the hamato household is too rambunctious and he knows he won’t get any peace and quiet for rest. those boys are ON him the second he steps into the lair because they love him and are excited to see him (and he brings prezzies, he always has the best shit). casey loves them and all but dude. they are so touchy and loud when they get excited

(casey sr sometimes travels with him too, but her first person to see is april)

(i might write later about the types of gifts he finds for the turtles. they’re often mystic in nature)