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coldsandfluff · 3 years ago

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Friday Night Fever (F/M, Original, Illness Care-Taking Fluff)

Wrote this little original F/M care-taking fluff fic inspired by something that happened to me when I was in college (basically, caught a cold, three friends came over unannounced and insisted on me coming with them to the bar until one of them noticed the thermometer on my nightstand and realized I really was too sick to go). I've changed all the characters personality/appearance (including myself) so that we are completely unrecognizable, and added more to the story of course 😚

So if you like group of friends, platonic to maybe romantic care-taking fluff and F/M illness, read on!

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Annabel left the sandwich shop at the end of her evening shift, feeling the cold autumn air seep through her jacket. Darkness had blanketed the town hours ago, and college students were already filling the streets on their way to the bars to celebrate the end of the week. Not that they’d really needed a reason to drink, of course.

As she launched the trash bags in the large dumpster in the back alley, Annabel felt an uncomfortable shiver running down her back. She’d been feeling under the weather for a couple of days, downing vitamin C fizzy drinks to stave it off. What she’d hoped would end up being a little annoying cold was turning out to be more than she’d bargained for. She could feel the icy tendrils of a fever crawling on her skin, and all she wanted to do was slip under the covers of her warm bed and sleep all weekend.

Her phone pinged as she started making her way back to her apartment.

Finn: We’ll be there in 40 minutes. Zack wants to pick up some pregame vodka from the store first.

Annabel sighed. She’d met Zack, Finn and Alex at her second job—a fancy new restaurant in the heart of town where she’d been waitressing part-time for the past two months. They’d hit it off on opening day, when Zack had accidentally broken a whole stack of plates. No one had seen what had happened but the four of them. Zack had gotten his dishwasher’s apron stuck on the door handle, and his hands had slipped at the sudden pull.

The crash had been deafening.

Right before the owner had rushed in to ask what had happened, Zack’s best friend, Finn, had kicked the wheel of the cart where the plates had been sitting a few moments ago, giving Alexander and Annabel a knowing look.

They’d all told the owner that the cart was broken and had tipped over without anyone touching it. Somehow, the owner had bought the lie. That night, Zack insisted on paying them a round of shots at the bar, and a tradition was born: The four of them. Every Friday. With lots of alcohol.

It was the only time Annabel let loose. With her two jobs and college, she was struggling to find free time, but Friday nights had become sacred. There was nothing like downing drinks and letting the buzz take over, following her three new friends wherever they wanted to go. It was always an adventure. Especially with Zack at the helm.

But tonight, there was no way she could make it.

Annabel: Actually, I can’t come tonight. Sorry.

She walked past a group of friends laughing and hollering, wishing she’d felt as good as they did. But the headache growing behind her eyes wasn’t going to let up, and adding alcohol to the mix would only make it worse. Not only that, but her nose had started running in the past two hours. She’d had to go blow it in the restroom every half hour, getting herself banished from the front of the store by the manager. She’d washed her hands so often that her skin was almost raw.

Just like her nose.

Finn: Nah, you’re coming. Nobody cancels Friday night. Come on.

Annabel couldn’t hold a smile. She typed back, sniffling. Her sinuses were prickling like crazy, as if she’d accidentally inhaled a cloud of tiny fireworks. She stifled a sneeze in the crook of her elbow, mid-word. “Ehh—Ehh’KSHHeeww!” Her eyes watered from the force of it. She wiped the tears away and resumed typing.

Annabel: I’ll make it up to you guys next weekend. Drinks on me.

She grabbed a crumpled tissue from her jacket pocket and dabbed at her nose. Her apartment was only a few blocks away, beckoning her. As she crossed the last stretch of sidewalk to the entrance, she kept checking her phone.

No reply.

Shrugging, she unlocked the front door and took the stairs.

***

Back in her apartment, she made a beeline for the bathroom to the right and used toilet paper to blow her nose, finally free to make as much noise as she wanted. She winced from the roughness of it on her chapped nostrils, but it was all she had. She wasn’t exactly the planning type. Her idea of a grocery list was memorizing the first three items and hoping the rest would come to her as she walked through the aisles. Most often than not, she’d have to make a quick run at the convenience store down the street to get what she’d forgotten.

She gathered her thick curly hair into a bun and looked at herself in the mirror. It was enough to confirm that she’d made the right decision. Her eyes were glazed over, her skin was so pale that her freckles popped like they did in the summer. Except for that slight flush high on her cheeks, of course. She popped a thermometer under her tongue and removed her work clothes, leaving them in a pile in front of the bathtub.

Shivering from the sudden change in temperature, she covered her arms with her hands and ran to her dresser. Her warmest, softest sweater was the first thing she grabbed and put on, before throwing on a pair of comfy leggings and wool socks. The thermometer beeped.

100.8 °F. Figured.

She rolled her eyes and shuffled over to the “kitchen” of her studio apartment, which was the size of a matchbox and only contained a mini fridge, a microwave and an old sink. She poured herself some water and walked over to the bed, placing her glass and the thermometer on her nightstand. She would have brought over medicine as well, but she’d run out last semester after catching the flu going around campus, and had forgotten to replenish her stash. No matter. She could sleep this off. It was just a cold.

She suddenly sneezed twice in a row, as if her body wanted to protest her minimizing her illness, then got under the cover. Just as she was getting a little warmer, propping up her laptop to watch a movie, there was a knock at the door.

Annabel sat up, startled.

“Anna, open up!” a voice said behind the door.

Zack.

Annabel chuckled. Of course they wouldn’t give up that easily. She groaned, getting out of the warmth of her bed. She considered rushing to the dresser and putting on cuter clothes—they were her friends, but they were still boys, and she didn’t want to look like shit in front of them—but the thought of it was enough to drain her energy. Screw it. She walked over to the door and opened it.

“Finn told us you don’t want to come,” said Zack as he walked in. It was her friends’ first time coming up to her apartment. They’d usually wait for her downstairs. “So we’re here to change your mind.” He didn’t look at her, too busy checking out her place. He was dressed for the night—a buttoned-up shirt, navy blazer, jeans and dress shoes. His casual chic style always stood out in the local bars filled with broke college students, but he liked it that way.

Finn walked in after him, a crooked grin on his lips. “See, I told you you can’t cancel Friday night.” His shaggy blond hair half-covered his eyes, as always. Finn and Zack had been best friends since high school, and couldn’t have been more different from each other. At least physically. Finn was tall and lanky, Zack was smaller and worked out a lot. But they were both party guys, always ready for a crazy night—even though Finn was a bit more mellow than Zack.

Finally, Alex came in, and Annabel closed the door behind him. He had a sheepish look on his face, as if apologizing for the other two. He was a lot more like Annabel. Quiet, chill, along for the ride—whatever it may be. His deep brown eyes held her gaze for a second too long, and Annabel noticed one of his eyebrow raise ever so slightly. She bit her lip, feeling self-conscious about her appearance. They’d never seen her in such a state before. Thank god she hadn’t had the energy to remove her makeup yet.

“So this is where you live, uh?” Zack said, sitting on her desk chair and spinning it around and around. “I like it. Dorms suck.”

Before she could reply, Finn tsked. “Wow. So no love for your roommate, uh?”

“Dude, I love you,” Zack said, “but between you and an apartment all to myself, the choice is obvious.” He stopped spinning and turned to Annabel, crossing his arms over his chest. “So what’s so important that you can’t come with us? Do you have a date?”

All three boys turned to her. Annabel almost laughed. Could they not see the condition she was in? She cleared her throat. “No, I’m just not feeling well.”

Finn sat on the edge of her bed and examined her from afar. “Like what? Stomach thing? Flu?”

“Probably a cold, I guess.” Annabel could feel Alex’s gaze on her at her side. She glanced at him, then looked down, feeling silly. Now that she was saying it out loud, it sounded like a poor excuse. But she did have a fever, after all. She just didn’t want to start listing her symptoms.

Zack clasped his hands together. “You know what will make you feel better? Alcohol!” He grinned, as if proud of his solution. “Didn’t they used to give brandy to people when they were sick? We’ll make a special mix for your throat. Something with lemon and orange juice. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know, I already have a headache…” Annabel said.

“Just take a couple of Tylenol. It’s like a hangover in advance,” Finn said with an encouraging smile. “One time, I went out clubbing with an ear infection and everything was fine. Actually felt better the next day, weirdly enough.”

“I don’t know guys, I won’t be much fun if—” Annabel was interrupted by a fierce tickle deep in her nose, spreading like wildfire. She ducked to her side, away from Alex. “Ehh’KSSHeeew! ‘KSSSHeeew!”

“Bless you,” the three boys said almost in unison.

“See?” Annabel said, pointing at her nose and sniffling. “You want me to sneeze all over you guys all night?”

Finn shrugged. “We’ll bring tissues. Whatever.”

Alex walked over to the bathroom and grabbed the toilet paper roll from the counter, then handed it to her. “Here.”

Annabel ripped a piece off and wiped her nose. “Thanks,” she said, sheepish.

Alex’s gaze paused on her for a few seconds before he turned to the other two. “Guys, she’s obviously sick. Let’s just go and let her sleep.”

“It’s just a cold,” Zack said. “She’s young and healthy. It’s nothing.” He got up and put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Give it an hour, and if you’re not feeling better after a few shots, we’ll walk you home.”

Annabel considered it for a second, trying to fight the shivers. Maybe if she wore something warm and took a few shots, she wouldfeel better. Numb the pain a little, at least. While she pondered it, Finn laid down on top of her bed spread and locked eyes with the thermometer on her nightstand. He frowned and sat up, picking it up.

He looked at her, thermometer in hand. His voice softened. “It’s that bad, uh?”

Annabel blushed. Why did admitting that she had a fever feel so vulnerable? She looked down and nodded. “Kinda.”

Zack looked at the thermometer, then back at Annabel. He narrowed his eyes and put a hand on her forehead. “Ooof,” he said, a hint of concern slipping in his tone.

Finn got up. “Let me see,” he said, walking up to her and placing his own hand on her forehead. His eyebrows shot up. “Yikes.”

“Yeah, you need to be in bed,” Zack finally said, guiding her back to bed. “Why didn’t you say you had a fever? Jesus, Anna.”

She shrugged, sitting on her mattress. “I don’t know. I just get fevers with colds. I guess it’s normal for me.”

“Fevers suck,” Finn said. “Last time I had one, I stayed in bed for two days and everything hurt.” He walked over to the front door. “We’ll miss you tonight, though.”

Zack followed. “Hope you feel better. We’ll text you all the crazy shit that’s going to happen so you don’t miss anything.” He followed Finn out of the apartment, leaving the door open for Alex.

Alex watched them walk by, then grabbed the roll of toilet paper on the counter where Annabel had left it. He brought it over to her nightstand and gave her a sad smile. “Do you need anything?”

Annabel shook her head, relieved that she was going to be able to stay in bed. “I’ll be okay.”

He seemed to hesitate for a second, then nodded. “Let us know if you want us to get you food later. I know I can never sleep when I have a fever.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. Her nose scrunched up, overtaken by another annoying prickle. “Ehh… Iihh’KSSSHHeeww!”

“Bless you.”

Zack’s voice sounded from the hallway. “Alex, you coming?”

Alex snickered. “I guess I should go.” He walked to the door, then turned back. “Feel better, okay?”

“I will. Thanks.”

***

Annabel tried to sleep, but her fever and runny nose kept waking her up, leaving her floating halfway between dreams and reality. It was clear that she wasn’t going to get any rest in her state. She needed cold medicine.

It took her a long time to finally convince herself to get out of bed and go to the convenience store, but she managed to push the covers away and get up. She shivered, causing another tickle in her sensitive nose—it had only gotten worse in the hour since the boys had left. She ducked at the waist in an exhausting triple. “Ehh… Hehh’KSSSHeeeew! ‘KSSHHeeew! Hiihh’KSSHeeew!”

Just then, another knock sounded at the door. Annabel frowned and made her way to the door, cracking it open.

It was Alex. Alone.

“Bless you,” he said with a shy grin.

Annabel let him in. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with the guys?”

He shrugged, closing the door behind him. “I thought you might need this.” He showed her a plastic bag filled with tea, tissue boxes, ramen, cough drops and—she gasped—cold medicine.

Alex chuckled. “So I was right. You don’t have any medicine, do you?”

Annabel laughed. “How did you know?”

“Your nightstand. You only had a thermometer on there. When I’m sick, I take Nyquil everywhere I go.” He handed her the bag. “And I wanted to make sure you had tissues instead of toilet paper. Your nose will thank me.”

Annabel touched her chapped nose, smiling. “That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” He stood there for a second, as if not knowing what to say. “I’ll uh—I’ll let you rest.”

Before he could go, Annabel put her hand on his elbow. “Wait. Do you want to—” She stopped halfway through her sentence, her nose scrunching up yet again, her eyes fluttering. She spun around and sneezed, covering her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “Hehh’KSSHH! Ht’Ksshht!” She turned back around, blinking away the tears and laughing. “Sorry!”

Alex laughed, too. “Bless you.” He held her gaze, then looked down. “What were you going to say?”

“Oh—I was just wondering if—maybe if you’d like to watch a movie with me. I don’t think I can sleep until the medicine kicks in.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted saying them. Of course he didn’t want to watch a movie with her. This was Friday night. What kind of college guy wanted to hang out with a sick, sneezy, nose-drippy girl on a Friday night instead of getting drunk with his friends. “Sorry,” she added quickly, “I forgot that the guys are probably waiting for you. I guess I’m kind of loopy from the fever.”

Alex took a step forward and placed his hand on her forehead. The gesture was so gentle, so soft, that Annabel closed her eyes, appreciating the coldness of his palm on her hot skin.

“You are definitely burning up,” he half-whispered, frowning. “I was wondering if the guys were exaggerating. Guess not.”

Annabel bit her lip. “I’ll be okay after I take the medicine. You don’t have to stay.”

Alex removed his hand. “I do,” he blurted. “I mean, I do want to watch a movie with you. And stay.”

“Are you sure?” Annabel asked through her blossoming smile. “Aren’t you worried you’ll catch my cold?”

“Actually, I have a confession to make.” Alex led her to the bed and placed the content of his bag on her nightstand. “Last Friday, I kind of had a cold. It wasn’t as bad as yours, pretty minor, but… Zack convinced me to come out anyway and I—I think I might have given it to you. You drank out of my glass and I didn’t have time to stop you.” He looked at her, his eyes wide with guilt. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Annabel laughed. “I can’t believe Zack didn’t rat you out earlier. It would have been the perfect example of someone going clubbing with a cold and ‘being fine’ anyway.”

“He probably knew it was partly his fault that you’re sick and didn’t want to admit it.”

Annabel shook her head. “Well, you owe me a Friday night.” She got into bed and patted the spot next to her. “That means I get to pick the movies.”

Alex grabbed the throw blanket at her feet and draped it over her. “That sounds fair.” He walked over to the other side of the bed and settled next to her. “But when you fall asleep, I can’t guarantee I won’t change it.”

“Deal.”

After taking a dose of Nyquil, Annabel started the movie, snuggling under the blanket. She wondered what kind of crazy adventures Zack and Finn were getting themselves into. She expected to feel FOMO, but instead, she shot a glance at Alex next to her, and realized she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Maybe it was the fever, or maybe it was Alex’s shoulder touching hers, but it felt like this was the start of a different kind of adventure. Maybe not alcohol-fueled, but Nyquil was pretty close.

All because they’d shared a not-so-secret cold.

And Annabel had a feeling it would be worth the fever. And the countless sneezes to come.

THE END

#caretaking fic #care-taking fic #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #care-taking king #sickfic

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ontheblock · 3 years ago

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it’s my mental illness and i get to chose which character is vent through❗️❗️anyway, i have been struggling with writing the ending of the second part of my latest patrick hockstetter request and since this has been sitting in my notes for a hot minute, i decided to post it. enjoy this little story absolutely nobody asked for<3

night terrors

no warnings ig- maybe alcohol

Summer never really was plagued by night terrors the way Morty was haunted by them. Whenever she did have a bad dream as a little girl, her parents let her cry it out unless she came to their room themselves. The rare times someone did come over was when Beth was blackout drunk and Jerry followed the soft wailing of his daughter to pet her head while he listened to her sob story of a nightmare. It never helped that Jerry basically coddled baby Morty whenever he woke up - a desperate attempt to even out the neglectful way they treated her first child because they were kids themselves. But all of Jerry‘s attempts were fruitless. Summer heard Morty whine and whimper almost every night through the drywall, even more so since Rick arrived. It was ironic for her to turn out fine with her mother’s neglectful ways. Jerry should’ve maybe considered listening to Beth more with Morty. Or maybe it was meant to be like this. Poor fucker. If his nightmares didn’t take form of bullies anymore it was definitely the looming danger of acid drooling monsters or aliens smart enough to conquer their planet if a self-proclaimed god in a lab coat fucked with them. Yeah, that sounded terrifying for a child. Or maybe the thing he feared most was more simple and childish - their grandfather who took out threats like that for breakfast. But tonight wasn’t a night like that. Summer didn’t wake up from Morty hitting his bedroom wall out of reflex. It was some faceless nightmare of her own that sent her lurching upright with a struggle for air. Whatever it was, she didn’t remember much aside from Jerry‘s face and a leathery hand reaching for her out of the black abyss surrounding her but she felt the aftermath of a sprinting heart and sweat sticking her tank top to her back. Her throat was dry enough to make her reach out to her empty bedside table. She never put a glass of water by her bed, but then again she never needed it.

Swiping back a stray hair, Summer pushed her blanket off to stand up on wobbly legs. She made her way over to the door, stepping over the creaky floorboard. The hallway was quiet but as she crept down the stairs, Summer noticed the flickering lights of the TV pouring out the living room. She had half the mind to blackmail Morty about watching TV on a school night but she definitely kept the info in the back of her mind for tomorrow’s breakfast as she avoided more creaky floorboards on her way to the kitchen. The moron even turned down the volume.

"Morty, I swear to god. Your nightly water trips are getting on my- on my last nerve."

Summer blinked once, twice to place the voice. The distinct alcoholic slur and the audible frown was familiar to her even in a sleepy state. And surely, it was Rick. Shuffling closer, Summer could peek over the couch‘s back to see her grandpa lounging in his oil stained wife beater, tinkering with a cube shaped hunk of metal. Like this she could see his hands at work, talented fingers coaxing loosened screws into their threads. He hissed a low "me cago en tu madre" when the phillips head slipped from the screw he was working on. Summer could make out the blue mesh of veins under the withered skin on the back of his hand. Rick really did have the hands of a worker - a mechanic or construction worker. They looked nothing like the office worker hands of Jerry, if he had even that. He seemed to sense her presence - if that was even possible - because his head turned to look at who he assumed to be Morty.

"Summer? What the fuck are you doing here?"

What was she doing here? She came for a glass of water but her throat was less parched now and something about her mysterious grandpa reeled her in like a damn fish. She took her bait and ran her clammy palm over the couch cushion by her grandpa‘s neck. "I woke up, obviously. I had a nightmare. No big deal." Her eyes pointedly stayed on Rick‘s hand holding a screwdriver or the coffee table with half a bottle of whiskey standing next to Rick‘s feet that he casually propped up onto the wood but she never met his gaze. Why was she even this honest? She could make some kind of excuse but it’s been months since her family showed interest in what she was doing. "Nightmare, huh?" Rick echoed her as if to taste the word on the tip of his tongue. Summer wondered if he had nightmares sometimes. She nodded, eyes finally flickering to his face. The TV casted lights and shadows on his old features. Right now he looked normal, not like that crazy scientist with a mean silver tongue that intimidated her the first time they met at the breakfast table. Summer was used to see the hollow green glow following Rick like a fucked up halo or even the zapping blue rays from devices that can both end and create wars. But now the angular features showed a different side. The soft studio lights of some late night show made him look like a regular addition to the family and it helped Summer release her tense shoulders for the first time in a while, like she didn‘t need to be sarcastic or indifferent all the time. A little voice in the back of her head told her that Morty could be his awkward idiotic self so why couldn’t she?

"Why are you up, grandpa?" She leaned her front against the couch back and kept her voice down just in case Morty did wake up again. "I‘m - bergh - well over the age of bed times. This piece of shit is m-more important." Rick averted his gaze and waved the cube in his hand. Summer hummed and reached for it only to have Rick shuffle it to his other hand and hold it out of reach. "Well, what is it? Can it, like, cause mass destruction or something? Or does it contain a totally freaky virus? Or—" Rick shushed his granddaughter and tossed the cube on the coffee table. "Calm your tits, Summer. It‘s- It‘s to cure Granorian crystals. The, the, the-" Rick rotated his hand as if to underline his search for the most simple explanation "-easiest planet to harvest them happens to have the most impure growth." His hand fell into his lap, the other one snatching the whiskey from the table. "You should go to bed. It’s Tuesday." Summer snorted but it sounded off. "Since when are you the responsible grandparent?"

"I‘m not." His gaze locked on the TV again and he knocked back a sip or two of liquor. "Just thought I get one night free of my annoying grandkids." Ouch. Rick delivered both praise and insults in the same gruff tone - not that he had many kind words to spare, save for Beth when he needed to get his way. "What do you need them for? Can’t you just get, yknow, earth crystals?" Rick belched after a deep gulp from the bottle and dismissively waved his free hand in Summer‘s general direction. "Don’t think about it. Do me- just do us a solid; go back to bed, Summer." Rick expected a bit of huffing and a snarky comment before Summer relented and went back upstairs but he saw her unmoving in his peripheral vision. Summer stared down at the couch cushion‘s seam as if it told her whatever kind of questions were important to a girl her age. Probably if that one guy in school liked her or not. Her fingers rubbed over a stain that looked like red wine her mother spilled last Christmas. "I don’t want to. It’s not like I can go back to sleep anyway. Not- It‘s not because of the dream or anything. Just-" Summer stumbled over her words to find any excuse that would save her the embarrassment of admitting she was a little scared to go back to sleep again. She bit the inside of her cheek when Rick cut her off with a long groan. "You really are Jerry‘s kid. You‘re- Y-You know dreams are just- bullshit hallucinatory experiences aaaaall the way up the hippocampus? It’s not- It’s imaginary, Summer. Just your dummy ape brain processing a bunch of shit while you’re asleep." Rick‘s tone was agitated while he gesticulated but he still scooted closer to the left, ultimately creating more space on the couch. Summer didn’t know where dreams came from, she wasn’t interested in it either but she silently rounded the couch to sit down next to her grandfather. Being this close, she would smell the faint whiskey breath and the Old Spice lingering around her. It was nice for once, calming even. "You know, I‘m not staying because I’m scared because that’s totally lame." Rick just grunted in some kind of indifferent agreement but Summer felt the need to clarify her decision even more. "I mean, it’s just a dream. I‘m not a loser like Morty. I don’t piss my own bed. That‘d be totally— gross." Summer turned back to Rick, fully expecting him to not even pay her any mind but when they locked eyes Summer finally shut her mouth. She never saw a look like this one on Rick‘s face. Not even around Morty - who was quite obviously his favorite grandchild and Summer reminded herself that she didn’t care about that.

Right now Rick‘s withered features looked almost soft even though the hard lines on his face didn’t even out at all. Maybe his resting face just looked mean like that - maybe he was frowning for so long that it became the default for Rick. But still, he looked almost fatherly. Summer‘s pathetic little attempt to look tough in front of the most powerful man she knew stirred something dead in his ribcage.

He remembered a tiny Beth sneaking into their old kitchen where Rick was fixing a leak in the sink. A single glance at his wrist watch told him it was time for Beth‘s nap because if Diane didn’t make her take one Beth would be tired and grumpy all evening. He tried to shoo her back to her room but only got a tantrum out of his daughter until he reluctantly set his task aside and laid down on the living room couch with Beth resting on his chest until Diane came back with their groceries.

"Yeah, sure. What - uhrp - Whatever." Rick looked back at the TV and Summer fell into his silence, her back sinking into the soft cushions. She barely followed the plot of whatever Rick was watching. It looked like some 70s war movie with bad explosions and subpar camera quality. Rick didn’t seem to be the type for nostalgia so it probably just happened to be on at this time of night. The dull colors made her lashes feel heavy again and she let her eyes roam the coffee table Rick still used as his footrest. The cube laid by his foot, forgotten until Rick needed to purify his drugs alien crystals. The whisky bottled left a wet little spot on the wood that she knew Rick wouldn’t wipe away. Jerry wanted to replace the table for a week now. Morty‘s latest comics were scattered on the other side of the table. He always left them in the living room because the idiot just has to get distracted two pages in. An unfamiliar pack of Newport Reds Non-Menthol caught her eye and Summer took a quick glance at Rick. If he noticed, he ignored it. Rick did always have the remnants of cigarette smoke on him but Summer never seen him with one before. There was probably a lot that Summer didn‘t know about her grandpa. She wondered how much her mom really knew about him.

The movie crept close to its finale when a warm weight sank onto Rick‘s thigh. He lowered the bottle from his chapped lips to find soft ginger hair draped over his khaki pants. He went still for a moment with his granddaughter‘s head on his lap. This was territory he hadn’t wet his toes in for decades. Rick wasn’t a stranger to the warmth of another body but this was tender and innocent, enough to take him back in time. He downed the last of his whiskey in one gulp and indulged in the hot rush that followed. The credits rolled on the screen while the bottle neck dangled from his bony fingers.

"How drunk are you right now?"

Rick hummed as if he was doing the math in his head before answering. "Wasted." He put the empty bottle on the fuzzy carpet and shimmied his feet off the table without disturbing Summer in her position. Not that he would admit that.

"So in the morning this didn’t happen?"

Rick took his sweet ass time eyeing Summer and weighing out an answer before he gave a low "yeah, Sum-Sum" and looking back at whatever commercial was on. If Rick ever was good at anything it had to be pretending. He could pretend for Summer just this once too.

#rick and morty #summer smith #rick sanchez #fluff #tw alochol

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chromium7sky · 4 years ago

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The Devil wears Armani | chapter 12

A/n: I'm really sorry for the long hiatus of this au 😭. Finally got some spark about this update and I hope you guys enjoy it. Btw, guess who finally meet Raven? 😆😆

Raven finally reached her home after outing and small reunion with Karen. She remove her heels awkwardly as she yawned. It was a long night.

She tell Karen everything about what happen between her and Damian and of course minus the intimacy in his office.

-flash back-

Karen land her chin on her palm propped on the table as she listen to Raven's story. "You know, this is an interesting story though but did he knew about Melchior?"

Raven narrowed her eyes. " Why would I mention that jerk? Besides me and Damian still haven't declare about our relationship, I mean, he does flirt me back. Not to mention we did kiss..." Raven stop at the kissing part.

"Men can be complicated sometimes." She sighed as she take a bite from the cake she ordered.

"Couldn't agree more since I'm about to marry one." Karen wiggle her fingers that had betrothed ring on it.

Both designer and ex model giggled.

"I...I just hope Damian is serious about it. I'm quite invested my feeling for him." Raven chewed her lips.

"I hope so, Rachel. I hope he does." Karen smiled.

- end flashback-

Raven sighed on her bed after she change her clothes into night gown. "Gotta get some sleep because I'm going to meet him tomorrow. Should I ask again about us?"

Raven's mind wander about the golden question, her eyes start to droop as the cold night beckons her to the land of morpheus.

--------

Damian watched the E! Entertainment as he tidy up his studio to catch up any news on fashion industry then the anchorman, Josh Dirkmann said about a known designer from Europe came to town known as Melchior Draco.

"Melchior?" Damian arched his brows. Another designer in town? Maybe there's an event? And as soon as the reporter had some short interview with the silver hair gentlemen with black suit.

"So what makes you come to Gotham?" The reporter pointed the mic towards the designer.

"Well, a big company invited me to launched both of our collaboration and they said Gotham fit the aesthetic." He answered as he tug his silver hair behind his ears which earn a sneer from Damian as he watch the interview.

"Do you know Raven the designer?"

" Oh, yes. We did compete each other in Paris Fashion Show. She won first while I won second. It was a tough decision for the judges. Just so you know, between you and me, we kinda close during that time." Melchior slip out some interesting info towards the reporter.

The reporter almost gasped and demand for more answer but Melchior quickly waved away and walked towards the hotel lobby.

Damian quickly grab the remote control and closed the show.

" What do you mean close each other?" Both of his eyebrows knitted together. He closed his eyes and throw the remote at the couch. "It doesn't matter."

-------

Raven now in mess. The phone call came in nonstop just because of a statement when Melchior mention that both of them were close and the paparazzi possible sniffing out a scandal.

She sighed and landed her head on her desk. A hard knocking landed on her door makes her jolted. " Come in." As she turn her head towards the door.

Mona came in a hurry with an apologetic face. " Miss Rachel, I forgot to inform you that there will be a journalist came for your gala interview today. I'm really really sorry." Mona bow her head.

Raven stare blankly at Mona while her internal having conflict. 'First it's was Melchior statement and now interview? What...what should I do?'

Her palm start to sweat but quickly she fist up her hand. " When will be the journalist comes?"

The assistant girl check through her tablet. " In two hours."

"Who from where?"

"Jonathan Kent from Daily Planet, ma'am."

"Oh?" The same journalist who interview her winning success in fashion show. " Well, make sure escort him to my office and prepare our boarding room. Easier to execute it in there." Raven gives a stern order.

Mona nodded her head vigorously then quickly exit her room.

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

She straighten her back as she heard a knock. She breath in. "Come in."

"Ms. Rachel!"

"Mona."

"A journalist came to meet you for Wayne's Gala interview." She gesture her hands towards a young man with curly hair and those prominent square glasses. "Mr. Jonathan Kent."

"Ah, Jonathan. Hi! It's been a while." Raven stretch her hand towards him.

Jon adjust his specs then handshake with her. "Thank you for letting me interview again , Ms. Roth." His face display his friendliness towards her.

Mona bowed her heads and quickly went out of her office. "How about we bring this interview to boarding room? More comfy?" Raven suggest about changing place.

"Yeah, you're right." Jon nodded.

Raven stood up and escort Jon to the meeting room for more proper place to interview.

She open the light switch and pull out a chair. " You can sit here."

"Ah, right, thank you." Jon smiled sheepishly as he pull the leather chair and sit, opposite with the owner of AMZ company.

" So, how long does this interview lasting?" Raven asked him as soon as she's in her seat and lean on the table with both of her hands propped on her chin.

"Well, not long, more or less 10 minutes." The journalist smile sheepishly. "Anyway..." He pull out his notebook, voice recording and a pen."Let us start with, how long you know Damian Wayne?"

"Well...since I was freshly involved in this industry, Mr Wayne offered me to promote myself at Gala." Raven calmly answer as she tried to cover Damian from being involve with fashion drawing class back in those days.

Jon then stopped the voice recording which made her jolted then adjust his specs. "You are the one who have the same class with him right?"

Raven almost gasped but she quickly act nonchalant as she tried to deny it . "Are you try to dig something from me, Mr Kent?"

"Ah, yes. Such as wanted to know more about Dami's secret girl." He smiled.

Dami? Her eyebrow arched as she heard the name. Why in the world he would address Damian that way? "You must be mistaking. We were only in term of business."

"Seriously? I thought you guys were serious." He's moping. "He did ask me about how to flirt a girl too. Man, he's really an emotional constipated." He laughed. "Besides, Dami said he haven't meet her in 3 years after he's graduated."

Raven with her eyes wide as she heard it from him. "HOW DID YOU KNOW ALL THAT?!" She quickly rised from the desk.

Jon jolted as he seen her reaction. " Ah, I guess that's why he keep a secret about his girl." Sweat drop start to rolled down on his forehead. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. Let me introduce myself again."

Jon straighten his back and stretch his hand. "Hi, I'm Jonathan Kent. Dami' s childhood friend and school mate, same goes with roommate at uni and currently, a journalist." He smiled.

Raven tried to process all the information at once and it takes a few moment. "So, you are Damian's close friend?" She point out with as she narrowed her eyes.

"That's right!" Jon's smile getting wider.

"Ah, hello." She slowly put her hands on him which Jon grab it and makes a several shake as he excited to met her.

"It's really pleasure to meet you by the way! For sure if Maya and Colin knew about you they will be screaming or teasing him saying Dami has finally grown up!" He laughed.

Raven sit on her chair with unsure feeling. First the confession, then his childhood friend meet her, and then what? A wedding? She press her lips into a thin line.

"You know, Dami is not that kind of guy when it comes to women. He always thought they were hyenas." Jon chuckled.

"Hyenas?" Raven puzzled. "What's with hyenas?"

"Ever since he lives in Gotham, he always seen his father been in and out with other women who prey for money. Still, poor him having lack of parent's love." Jon sighed.

That explain why he's being hard on anyone. Raven attentively listen to Jon's story. "You know, he has pets like a zoo at his house. From cow to snakes. I remember when I came, This Alfred the cat always sulking and threaten to scratch me."

"An animal lover? That much?" Both of Raven's eyebrow jumpy as she heard it. She could imagine if Damian standing on the field, as birds will land on him, it either makes him look like Disney princess or a scarecrow.

"Most of them are animal rescue." Jon nodded.

"I see..." Then Raven suddenly remember something. "How did Damian took fashion drawing class by the way?"

"Actually we suggested to him. I mean seriously, you haven't seen his potrait and figure drawing, Those are amazing! He most likely to observe the surrounding and draw on his sketch book while on his free time."

Wait. Does that means Damian has a secret sketch book like her? Raven unconsciously put her hands on her lips.

"Still, what makes you suspect it was me? I mean we haven't contact it for a while."

"Other than he told me that he haven't met her in three years, I've seen a drawing that looks just like you at his studio." Jon smiled.

There it is.

Raven sighed and there's a slightly red tint on her ears.

"Why you haven't contact him when he's in middle east?" Jon asked curious question.

"It was because when I know that he's Damian Wayne, I..I was screwed. I mean, Wayne as in Wayne Enterprise. The biggest contributor on east side. Me? I'm just, just an orphan girl who try to rise my own feet."

"Oh?"

"My mother died when I was 14. I still don't know who were my father is and all I got is this necklace from my mother." She showed the necklace to Jon.

The young journalist seems to be fasinating with it's design. "I wonder where did your mother got this?"

Raven sighed as she try to remember. " I'm not sure. All I remember that it's been in heritage for years."

"I see." Jon rubbed his chin. "Well, Maybe you should hang up with us sometimes. I'm sure Colin and Maya would love to see you." He smiled.

"The thing is, Jon. I'm still unclear about between us." Raven chewed her lips.

"Ah nonsense, he really likes you. I can see from the way he look at you."

"Is it? Wait, where did you saw him see me?"

"I think it was two day before?"

Raven slap both of her cheeks. OH MY GOD, HE SAW BOTH OF US KISSING.

"And don't worry. I won't tell a soul, though, I've been warn by him and probably will be dig out by Colin and Maya." Jon widen his smile as sweat start to rolled down on his cheek."Dami has been my friend of more than a decade. I understand the way he express himself."

Raven nodded slowly. " Jon, a question."

"Yeah?"

"Since you are a journalist, do you know anything about Melchior?" Raven voice change to serious tone.

"That Silver Blond guy?"

"Yeah."

" I heard he's having collaboration with a big company. However, another speculation I heard that he choose Gotham because of its mysterious aesthetic."

"Well, uh, there's something I heard during interview. He claimed that we were close during the fashion show competition."

Raven as stared at the desk.

"Been wondering myself too. Are you close to him?" Jon's curious eyes start to lit.

"We do only for a while but the thing is he stole my design during that time which I never forgive myself for letting me get fooled by him." Raven sighed then she looked at Jon. "Wait. Don't tell me you're going to put this on paper?"

"Wait, I get it." Jon again propped his hand on his chin. "No wonder I've seen familiarity design between both of you. Plus you're having a hard time too."

"Uh, Jon?"

"I think I found something to investigate." Jon's mischievous smiles start to paint on his face.

"Now you act like Damian."

"Damian is more hardcore. I'm still on the average level." Jon beamed his happy face on her.

"Well, I think our interview stopped here. Besides, I need to cover some story from Me Wayne itself about the gala."

"Dami?"

"Yep."

"So, nice to meet you, Ms. Rachel Roth. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"It's been a pleasure to spill tea with you." Raven smug.

Jon blinked then put on his mischievous smile.

-------

Somewhere in his office, Damian sneezed for no reason. " Is it me or is this office are getting colder?" He looked at the air ventilation.

117 notes · View notes

atinymonster · 5 years ago

Text

heartbeat

ateez 9th member.

when jiyu was a special mc for the boyz’s recent weekly idol appearance and meets someone who makes her heart race—and vice versa.

she’s a lil lengthy, i kinda got a little carried away :,)

➴ masterlist

taglist ➴ @banhmi07, @galacticstxrdust, @jiyeons-closet

“We actually have a special MC with us today!” Kwanghee announced, sending the eleven boys into confusion. No one informed them of another MC on the show.

Sunwoo practically froze where he was standing when he heard Kwanghee mention “the only female member in her group”. Realizing who the special MC was, the other boys stole glances at him and secretly stared snickering at the boy’s stiffened state.

“Let’s welcome...Jiyu!” Saeho introduced.

The boys cheered as she shyly entered the studio. Not only did they cheer for her presence, but also at Sunwoo’s shocked and starstruck state.

It wasn’t a secret that Sunwoo had taken a liking to Jiyu since her time on MIXNINE. It also didn’t go unnoticed by the other ten (eleven) boys—how he watches all of her fancams, how giddy he gets when he discovers that their schedule overlaps with ATEEZ’s, and how his attention is always on the Jiyu whenever she performs with her group.

“Hello, I’m ATEEZ’s female and youngest member, Jiyu.” she introduced herself with a bow. The eleven boys bowed back.

Throughout the shoot, Sunwoo managed to keep his feelings and reactions on the down low. However, the members, mainly Eric and Changmin, took every opportunity to tease him and prod him for a reaction.

Jiyu chuckled to herself every time it happened. She found it adorable how he would turn the lightest shade of red. Much like Sunwoo, she took an interest in him ever since his appearance on High School Rapper.

During the Be My Fan segment, Jiyu laughed, cringed, and was just entertained in general. She didn’t know they had a segment like this on the show since ATEEZ and ONEUS didn’t have it when they were on.

“Now that Juyeon and Younghoon went, is there anyone else that wanted to try?” she asked.

Younghoon pounced at the opportunity. “I want to see Sunwoo try it.” he suggested.

The members and hosts cheered for Sunwoo, who went stiff.

“Sunwoo–ssi, would you like to try passion or sexy?” she asked. Just a simple question made the poor boy stutter, much to his members’ amusement.

“I’ll do sexy.” he said, lowkey regretting his life decisions when he heard the teasing cheers and whistles from his members.

“Alright, aaand start.” Jiyu signaled.

“This is how sexy people enter.” Sunwoo said before walking through the curtain without using his hands. Everyone burst into laughter at his entrance.

When he started doing push–ups with the rose, Kwanghee jokingly covered Jiyu’s eyes. “Protect the lady’s eyes!” he shouted, causing everyone to fall out of their chair in laughter.

Unbeknownst to everyone, Jiyu’s heart was beating a little too quickly to be considered normal. She covered it up by laughing and going along with Kwanghee’s joke.

Once Sunwoo’s show was done, Jiyu dabbed the tears in the corner of her eyes. “Oh my God, I’m crying.” she said.

“Was it that horrible?” Kevin asked, sending everyone into fits of laughter again. Sunwoo buried his head in his hands in embarrassment.

Changhee announced another activity. “There’s actually another part to Be My Fan!”

Kwanghee gave him a knowing look. “Ahh, is it that activity?” he asked

Changhee nodded.

“In this game,” Saeho started, “you need to raise Jiyu’s heart beat!” he announced. Out of excitement and disbelief, the members started clapping and cheering.

“Eh? Me?” Jiyu asked, pointing to herself.

“I don’t think they’d want to make our hearts race.” Saeho joked, gesturing to himself and the other two hosts. Everyone laughed at his humorous explanation.

“Alright, let me explain the game.” Kwanghee said. “Only one of you can challenge Jiyu.” he revealed. The boys’ mouths dropped with disbelief. “You will have one minute to attempt to raise her heartbeat. If you don’t get it past 120, you’ll fail the game.”

“Jiyu, please stand in the middle right here.” Saeho said.

Saeho put the heart beat detector bracelet on her wrist and on the screen, her name and heart rate appeared. “Now, who would like to challenge?” he asked.

Sunwoo tried his hardest to not make eye contact with any of the hosts or his members and tried to act casual about the game. However, it didn’t seem like luck was on his side.

“Sunwoo.” his members unanimously agreed.

“Alright then Sunwoo, come out!” the Changhee said, unaware of the butterflies in Sunwoo’s stomach.

Sunwoo slowly and hesitantly stepped out to stand in front of Jiyu. She smiled at him and he swore his heart skipped at least two beats.

“So her starting heart rate is 97.” Kwanghee announced. “Remember, you need to get it to at least 120 to win.”

Sunwoo started fidgeting and bouncing to cover up his nervousness. “Ahh! What do I do?!” he shouted in distress. He didn’t want to embarrass himself by exposing his feelings when trying to raise her heartbeat.

His members, despite the enjoyment they were getting from watching Sunwoo’s distress, shouted encouraging words and some even gave suggestions on what to do. Since Jiyu was notoriously known for her chic aura, they figured raising her heartbeat would he a challenge.

Jiyu calmed herself down and pressed her lips into straight line, waiting for the signal to start. She looked at Sunwoo and found his nervous and jittery state adorable.

“3, 2, 1, start!” Saeho said, starting the timer.

Sunwoo panicked and started nervously laughing. He balled his hands into fists from the overwhelming feelings of butterflies in his stomach.

“Ya, ya! Her heart rate is dropping!” New warned. Despite Jiyu slightly smiling, her heartbeat dropped to 80.

“Ahh...we’re screwed.” Hyunjae mumbled in amusement.

“Do something, Sunwoo! Hurry!” Q shouted as he anxiously watched the monitor.

Sunwoo took a deep breath before finally looking down to make–eye contact with Jiyu. His cheeks burned and his heart was racing miles. He made small grabby hands for her hands and she giggled.

“Oh, oh! It went up, it went up!” Eric shouted, seeing the number jump back up to 95.

“Thirty seconds left!” Saeho warned.

Jiyu put her hands in his and he started singing, swaying their hands from side–to–side. The hosts started squealing. “It looks like a boyfriend serenading his girlfriend!” Kwanghee teasingly shouted.

Jiyu laughed through her nose at his comment as she looked to her feet before composing herself again. Sunwoo felt even more embarrassed and flustered, but still kept singing. He even started bouncing with his knees. Jiyu copied him. The members started encouraging Sunwoo when they saw her heart rate steadily increase.

“Five seconds!”

“115!” Haknyeon shouted in amazement.

“Aaand time!” Saeho signaled.

Sunwoo immediately let go of her hands and ran back to his seat, squatting behind it, too shy to look at Jiyu. His members laughed and tried to drag him out. Jiyu chuckled at his embarrassed state.

“Ahh, it’s such a shame, but Sunwoo was really close.” Chanhee said. Everyone looked at the monitor. Sunwoo managed to raise her heartbeat up to 118.

“Actually.” Eric said as he raised his hand, “I think Jiyu has an advantage since Sunwoo was flustered just by her standing there.” he said, discreetly sending a teasing smirk to Jiyu. Jiyu pouted at him.

“Are you saying that if Jiyu was the one trying to raise Sunwoo’s heartbeat, she’d succeed in no time?” Kwanghee asked. The boys shouted in agreement while Sunwoo just wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Let’s try it, then!” Saeho announced, making Jiyu and Sunwoo flustered. The members happily cheered.

Jiyu just dryly laughed at her situation.

Before Sunwoo knew what was happening, he was wearing the heart beat detector bracelet, his name and heart rate were displayed on the monitor screen, and Jiyu was standing in front of him rocking on her heels. Since Jiyu was slightly shorter, he sent a litte glare to his members over her head. They just smiled at his predicament while some gave him a thumbs–up.

“Are you ready, Jiyu? The same rules apply to you, too.” Changhee said.

Jiyu nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright...start!”

Jiyu took a deep breath before staring up the ceiling. “Hongjoong, forgive me.” she said, making the hosts laugh at her mention.

She reached for his hands and he put his hands in hers. Everyone started hollering.

“It’s already at 110!” Hyunjae shouted.

“Sunwoo–ah.” she said in her best aegyo voice as she swayed their hands like how he did with her. Sunwoo practically fainted.

His members were howling in laughter seeing the jump in his heartbeat. “137!”

Jiyu looked at the monitor with wide eyes. “YA! I didn’t even do anything yet!”

367 notes · View notes

sickiebabytae · 4 years ago

Text

How Much Would You Bet?

Can we get taehyung and jungkook have a challenge and both getting a painful stomach ache with yoongi and jimin taking care

Sickies: Taekook

Caretakers: Yoonmin

Word count: 2062

Description: Taehyung and Jungkook are infamous for doing reckless things in the group. Sometimes they get too reckless, though. It's a good thing they have amazing hyungs to take care of them.

TW: emeto (+ slight mention of anxiety)

"Are you sure we should do this?" Taehyung asks, brow raised. He tries to take on his hyung role, though the act is quite hard to believe considering he's smirking at Jungkook in amusement, eyes sparkling in excitement.

Jungkook mirrors Taehyung's expression teasingly and chuckles in pure mischief. "Of course I'm sure. Besides, we already made the bet. If you back out now, you're admitting defeat and owe me 50."

Taehyung rolls his eyes, chuckling in disbelief. "Fine." He groans as Jungkook takes out the giant tubs of ice cream and a plethora of toppings they are to put on top. "Jungkookie!" He whines. "My tummy hurts just looking at all this!"

"You should've thought about that before you agreed," Jungkook retorts, smirking.

"All you asked me was, 'how much would you bet to see who can eat more of an entire ice cream tub?'" Taehyung counters.

Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully and lightly punches his best friend's shoulder. "Tae, you should know me by now! Any time I ask you stuff like that, if you answer, the bet is coming true."

Taehyung huffs, unable to keep his boxy smile from tugging at the corners of his lips.

An hour later, Taehyung and Jungkook are both curled up on the couch, clutching their stomachs and holding their individual tubs of ice cream close to their chests. "Kook," Taehyung groans. "This was a bad idea."

"Yes, Tae, I know! You've been complaining for ages!" Jungkook whines.

"Don't act like you don't agree," Taehyung argues, pouting as his stomach churns. He sucks in a breath, screwing his eyes shut; he never deals with stomach aches well, especially since they get so bad. And he knows Jungkook feels the exact same, even if the maknae is trying to put up a tough act.

Taehyung swallows and lets out a thick, heavy breath. "Kookie, we should stop… I'm gonna throw up."

"Then go get your wallet, I'm not stopping." Jungkook mumbles, forcing himself to take another bite and gagging a little as the ice cream lands in his stomach heavily.

Taehyung sighs and just decides to push through, his competitiveness raging.

Another half hour passes and both tubs of ice cream are finished, thrown to the side to allow the two youngest to ball up on the couch and groan at their misery. Both of their stomachs are churning and bubbling and roiling, putting them through hell for their ridiculous decisions.

They stay like that for a while; until Jimin and Yoongi return from their individual studios, in fact.

The first to enter is Jimin, eyes widening momentarily when he sees both maknaes so pale, then sighing in realization when he notices the empty, giant tubs of ice cream. "Yoongi hyung!" He calls. "I'm gonna need some help here." He goes over and crouches in front of his fellow maknae liners, frowning in worry and brow cocked in a bit of amusement. "Did you really think this would be a good idea?" He asks, raising one of the tubs as demonstration just as Yoongi comes in and rolls his eyes at the sight.

Taehyung whimpers. "T-Tried to tell him not to…" He mumbles.

Jungkook weakly slaps his shoulder. "Then you should've stopped." He retorts, burping hollowly into his fist.

Jimin shakes his head and gets up, turning to Yoongi. "Let's get them some buckets and heating pads. Looks like we're in for a long night."

Jimin isn't wrong.

It doesn't take much time before Taehyung is up and stumbling to the bathroom with a hand clasped over his mouth. Jimin frowns. "Hyung, you stay with Jungkook." He says to Yoongi before hurrying after Taehyung. He catches up just in time for the younger to crouch in front of the toilet with a loud retch, a torrent of vomit ripping from his throat and splattering against the bowl. He whimpers. Jimin coos. "Oh Teddy bear… aigoo, you really dug yourself into a hole with this one, huh?"

Taehyung nods miserably, more puke spilling from his pale lips. He groans. "I-Ice cream doesn't taste as good coming up, Jiminie…"

Jimin hums out a sigh. "I don't think anything does, Tae."

Back in the living room, Jungkook lets out a horrible moan of discontent, sweat beading on his brow and arms squeezing a heating pad to his bloated, gurgling stomach. The sound of Taehyung throwing up is not helping at all, only making his nausea tickle at the back of his throat in sympathy. "Hyungie…" He whimpers out, reaching a clammy hand for Yoongi and pouting.

Yoongi sighs. He knows Jungkook (and Taehyung, for that matter) deserve a proper telling off for being so irresponsible, but Yoongi's soft spot for the maknaes cries for him to hold off the lecture until the poor babies are feeling better.

He crouches by their maknae's side and holds his hand, brushing a thumb over Jungkook's pale knuckles and pressing it into the boy’s heart tattoo. "Yeah, Goog?"

"Don't feel good…" Jungkook manages a shaky breath.

"No, I don't imagine you would after eating that much ice cream." Yoongi murmurs. "Do you think you're gonna be sick?"

Jungkook hums and nods in agreement. "B-But… not right now. Don't wanna…"

Yoongi sighs. "I don't think you can control that, unfortunately." His frown darkens as a whimper leaves the maknae's lips, arms squeezing at his bloated stomach. Yoongi sighs again. "Should I get a bucket?"

Jungkook begins to shake his head, but a gag soon rips from his throat and a hand comes up to clamp over his pale lips.

Yoongi's heart skips a beat. Working fast, he grabs the trash can from across the room and holds it under Jungkook's chin, about to whisper encouragement when the boy begins to retch on his own. Yoongi sucks in his bottom lip. "There we go, Gguk…"

Jungkook whimpers again, the smell of the vomit wafting up to his nose and only making him throw up harder, torrent after torrent splashing against the bottom of the trashcan.

"Okay, okay…" Yoongi slips his hand under Jungkook's sweaty shirt and rubs up and down the boy's back. "You're doing so good, Jungkook, just breathe."

Jimin guides Taehyung back into the living room, frowning at the sight of Jungkook throwing up. He sighs. "Tae, did you two really have to eat all that ice cream?" He chastises, instantly softening when the younger hangs his head like the guilty puppy he is. "Oh Tae… C'mere." Jimin hugs Taehyung into his chest. "It’s okay, but next time you need to remind Jungkook that neither of you can handle this stuff, okay?"

"Okay…" Taehyung murmurs.

"Jungkook, calm down, bub." Yoongi mumbles, gaining Jimin's attention. The dancer's eyes widen. In seemingly two seconds, Jungkook has begun to panic a little, tears streaking down his pale cheeks. Jimin leaves Taehyung's side for a moment to crouch in front of the maknae. "Jungkookie, hey…" Jimin murmurs, switching to dialect as he motions for Yoongi to take the bucket away. Jimin holds Jungkook's clammy hands in his own. "Look at me, Gguk. Yeah… you're okay, breathe-"

"It hurts." Jungkook sobs.

"I know it does, Gguk-ah, I know. Just calm down, you're working yourself up and making it worse." Jimin coos, reaching up and brushing away Jungkook's sweaty bangs. "That's it." He whispers encouragingly once he notices Jungkook beginning to calm down. "There you go. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Jungkook just glares weakly, obviously meaning no harm, before laying down and holding his stomach once more.

Jimin sighs. "Yoon-hyung, we should take them to bed. Can you stay with Tae?"

Yoongi nods, going over to the vocalist and holding his hand. "Come on, let's go to bed." He whispers, also changing to him and Taehyung's native dialect. He knows how much it calms both him and Jungkook down; the dialects.

Jimin helps Jungkook stand, ignoring the maknae's protests of, "I can walk, it's just my tummy!" Leading Jungkook to bed and tucking him in, Jimin grabs the trashcan and places it by the bed just in case Jungkook needs to bring anything else up.

“Hyung,” Jungkook moans. “My tummy…”

Jimin clicks his tongue, getting into bed with Jungkook and tugging the maknae close, a hand coming to slip under Jungkook’s shirt and rest on the poor boy’s bloated, growling stomach. Jimin ignores the way Jungkook squirms and blushes, trying to swat Jimin’s hand away. “Yah.” The older whispers gently. “Let me help, hm? It’s okay, you don’t have to be embarrassed.” He offers a warm smile at the maknae and kisses his forehead.

Jungkook slowly nods, letting his tired eyes flutter closed. He sighs. “I’m sorry we caused so much trouble…”

“Shh, we can cross that bridge whenever we come to it, hm? I’m sure Yoongi-hyung will have some things to say. And Jin-hyung and-” Jimin cuts himself off when Jungkook grabs his arm, stilling his ministrations. “What? Are you-?”

“Please don’t tell the others.” Jungkook begs with a whimper. “This is so embarrassing… and they’ll be so disappointed. Please, hyungie just- keep this between me and you and Taetae hyung and Yoongi-hyung. Please…?”

Jimin coos, unable to stop himself from giggling. “Okay, okay, Jungkookie, I won’t. I’ll make sure Yoongi-hyung doesn’t either. Sound okay?”

Jungkook nods. Tension leaving the boy’s shoulders, he lets go of Jimin and lets his eyelids flutter shut once more. Within moments he begins to drift off and Jimin takes it upon himself to tuck the maknae in further, smiling fondly. “Sleep well, Gguk.” He whispers.

Taehyung has a bit of a harder time falling asleep. He squirms and tosses and turns in bed, garbling out quiet, low groans of discomfort and features twisting with a grimace. He snakes his arms around his distended abdomen.

Yoongi looks over from where he sits up next to Taehyung, leaning against the pillows. His brows pinch with worry. Wordlessly Yoongi begins to play with the younger’s hair. He sighs. “You okay, Taehyung-ah?”

“M’fine.” Taehyung grumbles. “Just can’t get comfortable. My tummy…”

Yoongi hums in understanding. Setting his laptop aside, the rapper lays down and pulls Taehyung into his arms. His fingers trail up and down the boy’s back. Yoongi feels Taehyung begin to relax a little and a smile tugs on his lips. “Better?”

Taehyung nods against Yoongi’s chest, though it still takes a while for him to fully calm down. He continues to toss and turn and turn and toss, even while contained in his hyung’s hold. Only when Yoongi begins to play some quiet classical music do Taehyung’s movements finally begin to go slack. He purrs out a hum of content, eyes fluttering shut.

Yoongi sighs in relief. “Get some sleep, Tae. Hopefully you two will wake up fine in the morning.”

Taehyung hums in response before drifting off a few moments later. Yoongi plays with the vocalist’s hair for a while before texting Jimin to check up on Jungkook.

min suga

hows jk holding up? 7:08pm

diminie

hes okay! :(( just a little run down but sleeping like a baby heehee 7:08pm

min suga

thats good to hear 7:09pm

diminie

hows tae?? is he alright??? 7:09pm

min suga

taes fine, dont worry jimin 7:09pm

took him a while to fall asleep, though 7:09pm

he just wouldnt relax 7:09pm

diminie

oh poor thing :(( 7:09pm

should i come?? 7:09pm

min suga

no, you know how jungkook gets when hes not feeling well 7:09pm

dont leave him alone 7:10pm

ive got it handled, dont worry, jimin 7:10pm

diminie

alright... :((( 7:10pm

keep me posted? 7:10pm

min suga

of course i will 7:10pm

who do you take me for park jimin? ;) 7:10pm

diminie

lolol okayyy 7:10pm

bye hyung ^^ 7:10pm

min suga

gn jimin 7:11pm

Yoongi sets his phone down with a soft chuckle, glancing over at Taehyung and ruffling the younger’s hair before letting himself drift off as well.

Taehyung and Jungkook fortunately wake up the next morning feeling much better, the only remnants of the crazy events of the day before being a dull ache behind their stomach that is easily ignored. The whole situation is brushed under the rug by the four of them, until Jungkook speaks up a week later.

“Hyung, how much would you bet to see who could eat the most ramen cups?

#wow who am i??#posting two fics close to each other?#and over 2k words???!#heh #thank you to the anon who requested this!!!#im sorry it took so so long :(((#hope u enjoy!!#emeto #sick!jungkook #sick!taehyung #caretaker!jimin #bts #sick!bts #jeonjungkook #kimtaehyung #parkjimin #minyoongi

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putschki1969 · 4 years ago

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Wakana Anime Classic 2020 Stream Archive UPDATE

I would like to preface this post by apologising to everyone who has bought a ticket for Wakana’s live stream concert due to my recommendation and encouragement. I am truly sorry. m(＿＿)m

I obviously wanted as many people as possible to support Wakana but now I feel bad for promoting a shitty service like Live2U. I do not at all regret buying my own ticket because abysmal streaming quality notwhithstanding, it was an amazing live BUT I can no longer ask you to give money to them with a clear conscience. So if you were planning to buy a ticket for the archived video, please don’t.

Judging from all the issues that occurred during the initial registration phase way back in November I was almost certain things wouldn’t go smoothly during the live stream. Their server power is clearly not strong enough to handle this sort of traffic and they may or may not be using a completely wrong platform for their streaming service... Either way, I was hoping they would learn from their mistakes and improve the quality of their service a tiny bit until the live or at the very least make sure to provide a flawless video in the archive. I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt but alas, they turned out to be even more incompetent than I could have ever expected. Not only was the stream itself shitty as hell, they also couldn’t manage to provide a good archived version of the concert. And now they are coming up with a bunch of excuses, going as far as to take down the archived video, claiming to “fix” the issues and “improve” the quality. I am curious to see how they are gonna achieve that and get out of this mess since it would most likely require a full-on restructering of their entire service. We will see...

You know me, I am not a Space Craft hater, I do not enjoy speaking ill of them and I believe it is important to respect them despite their questionable methods. But it has honestly been a while since they have made such a poor decision so I can’t help but feel annoyed. Partnering with Live2U might be one of the most stupid things they have ever done. Obviously the fault still mostly lies with Live2U for advertising a service they cannot actually offer but it was Space Craft’s responsibility to at least make a little background check before partnering with such a shitty company. And now that they have entered this partnership it will be difficult for SC to get out of the deal so it’s up to Live2U to improve their service so they can actually meet their contractual obligations.

Two statements have been released so far: Statement #1 2020/12/22 Currently, difficulties occur during the viewing of the archived footage of “Wakana Anime Classic 2020″ due to the viewing environment. We apologise for the inconvenience but we will be suspending archive viewing for the time-being to fix the issue and let you know once it becomes available again. We apologise once again for any inconvenience caused to our customers.

Statement #2 2020/12/23 Archive viewing will continue to be suspended. We apologise for any inconvenience caused to our customers and have decided to extend the streaming period of the archived video. Details will be announced once the archive distribution is resumed again, so please be patient a little while longer.

At least they are offering an extension of the archive period but at this point it doesn’t seem like an adequate compensation considering how badly they have screwed up. They better think of something else to appease their customers. If the bits I saw of the archived video are any indication, a few (essential!) seconds here and there were cut due to Live2U’s bad connection during the stream recording so I fear we will never get those seconds back no matter how hard they try to fix all their issues. *sobs* Thanks to @mach3n for the input. I really hope it is as you say and they actually do have a flawless in-studio recording which they can use for the archive instead of just providing the streamed footage which they had previously done.

Oh well, all we can do now is wait and see what happens. Let’s stay positive and hope they can figure something out. All I want is a high quality video of Wakana’s live which I can download to watch again and again for eternity.

#kalafina #wakana #news #Wakana Anime Classic 2020 #random musings #Live2U sucks ass

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honey-dewey · 4 years ago

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Random Dewey Finn headcanons (?) I came up with while eating my breakfast

Before Dewey wanted to be a big rock star, he wanted to be an astronaut.

His aunt gave him his first guitar for his 10th birthday, thus sparking his love of rock music.

One of the major reasons he never quit music was because of that aunt. She passed away early, and was constantly the only member of his family that truly believed in him.

Dewey’s mum was kind of absent, so he was raised primarily by his dad.

Dewey and Ned met on the first day of high school, and were inseparable for all four years.

Despite both of them liking both, Dewey likes Star Wars more, while New prefers Star Trek. They have debates of epic proportion over which of these preferences is better. Dewey somehow always wins.

One of the reasons Ned let Dewey live with him is because Dewey is an amazing cook. He never eats what he makes though.

His specialty is breakfast foods

While he may be an amazing home cook, he’s an even better baker.

Dewey is highly sensitive to textures, especially food and fabrics.

Because of this, he rarely tries new foods, sticking to a decently firm schedule. (He really likes hard boiled eggs)

It’s also why he likes sweater vests. The actual sweater doesn’t touch his skin, but he can rub his hands up and down the knit when he gets overwhelmed.

He’s also sensitive to criticism. Along with that, he cries easily.

After the whole School of Rock incident, Dewey did some quick online classes on teaching. When a music teacher position at Horace Green opened up, he was the first one contacted to fill it.

During SoR shows, Dewey has a tendency to get very hyped, and this eventually leads to a collapse, usually on the bus ride home. It happened once on stage, where he just went still and quiet all of a sudden and then began to panic.

All of his kids know exactly what to do during his collapses.

They made him (yes made him) a stress doll. It weighs about twenty pounds and looks like a panda. They lay it across Dewey’s chest and let him lie down on a blanket. The kids then surround him to make a protective barrier. It’s a very effective method.

It took almost thirty years for Dewey to get diagnosed with mild autism, anxiety, ADD, and seasonal depression. His mother was a firm believer that mental illness was a hoax.

He did try and take medication for it, right when he started teaching full-time. It made him nauseous and tired and so unlike himself that he quit after three months, a decision that was fully backed by his students.

He eventually did go back and get a new prescription for his ADD. It works surprisingly well and doesn’t make him act any less like himself.

This isn’t even a Headcanon. It’s straight up actual canon from the Broadway.com Stick it to the Man video! Dewey stims! He knocks his wrists together and does the raptor hands! (I don’t think his hands were truly by his side at any point during the entire show) He taps his feet and shakes his hands! His facial expressions are always on 10 and he scronches his face when he’s excited! His head go bop! He’s a stimming Boi!

Also have you ever seen a neurotypical person dress like that? Ever? Nope. Sweater vests and jeans and sneakers (that look like heelys) is not a neurotypical outfit.

Dewey doesn’t like rainy weather, nor does he like the cold bite of winter. He has a heater and a happy light in his classroom for rainy and/or cold days.

His favorite season is fall. He really really likes to step on leaves and hear that satisfying crunch.

Dewey also has a weakened immune system, and is pretty vigilant about his health. He takes vitamins and vitamin D supplements, and yet always ends up with some kind of illness in winter. Despite this, he refuses to get any kind of flu shot.

Dewey’s list of phobias includes: needles, heights, clowns, and the dark.

He’s dead terrified of the dentist. Ned has to practically drag him every time. It’s not even that he has poor dental hygiene or has actual odontophobia, he just hates the experience. The combination of strong smells and uncomfortable touches and horrible noises overwhelms him so much.

For much of the same reasons as his hatred of the dentist, Dewey dreads getting his hair cut. Social interaction mixed with weird feelings on his surprisingly sensitive head and the constant background noise and the hair spray-y smell make it an experience Dewey’s hated since childhood. Now, Ned usually cuts Dewey’s hair because he’s really not picky about how it looks, and Ned knows exactly how to go about the job without causing Dewey to hyperventilate and cry.

He uses a night light! It’s the fun kind that projects stars on the ceiling.

Dewey is the king of field trips. He’s always just as eager as the kids to go, and he loves to learn niche facts. His favorite field trip location is the aquarium.

Dewey quit drinking after his 23rd birthday, when he blacked out and woke up in some random girl’s bed. She promised they didn’t do it, but ever since then, he’s terrified it’ll happen again.

Speaking of which, Dewey’s a virgin.

Once, one of Dewey’s female students came to him and said an older man was following her to and from school every day. Dewey was later suspended from work for a week for punching a man and putting him in the hospital. Once they knew why, the school board unanimously decided not to punish him.

Dewey absolutely insists all of his kids call him Dewey and not Mr. Finn.

He’s the most supportive teacher in the entire school. He’s got name tags on every desk with each kid’s preferred name and pronouns. When Billy comes out as non-binary, he makes the pronoun switch immediately and puts a beautiful stained glass-esque progress pride flag in one of his windows.

Someone hatefully vandalized said pride art project and Dewey actually cried. His kids all banded together to make a new one.

Sometimes, the kids purposefully ask Dewey to sing certain things because his voice gets so damn tender and beautiful, as opposed to the usual bombastic singing they’re used to. (Think like. Some of the 35MM songs)

Dewey has a routine with his drinks throughout the day. Two cups of coffee in the morning, one at home and one at work. One water bottle before lunch and one after lunch. A Gatorade or some other fitness drink after school, usually during band practice to make up for how sweaty he gets. And one cup of lavender citrus tea with extra honey after dinner.

He broke his only water bottle about four months into teaching full-time and started to use a plastic one every day. Ned decided that wouldn’t do, and got him a Mandalorian water bottle. Dewey loves it to bits.

Dewey doesn’t celebrate any one version of a holiday. He’s equal opportunity for any and all holidays, but he grew up Jewish. That doesn’t stop him from helping Ned put up his Christmas tree every year. Nor does it stop him from celebrating Yule with his online friends.

Despite being Jewish and mainly celebrating their holidays, Dewey loves Christmas music and starts playing it as soon as he can. The kids dare him to hit those ridiculous Mariah Carey high notes in All I Want For Christmas. He does it.

He also once sang ‘Little Drummer Boy’ to his kids the day before holiday break. He only played his guitar softly and by the time he was done, each and every kid was fast asleep. (He played Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer as well)

Dewey absolutely collects soft blankets. He has four halloween ones, two Tim Burton ones (a Beetlejuice and a Corpse Bride), eight winter holiday blankets, and three miscellaneous. He brought them all into class once and built a blanket fort to teach his kids about ancient civilization.

Speaking of which, his teaching methods are unorthodox at best, and at worst downright crazy. But he always teaches and he always makes it memorable. His class has the highest test scores in the school.

Dewey usually teaches using music or hands on activities. He plays soft background music during every class no matter the circumstances, and said screw the building’s lights and uses primarily lamps and strings of Christmas lights.

He also kind of forgets that he teaches essentially middle school, and he swears every so often when he’s super passionate. Like when he taught the kids about the US Presidents and called Andrew Jackson a racist bitch and Richard Nixon a lying bastard.

After getting bullied throughout all of high school, Dewey came to terms with what his body looked like, and now he really doesn’t care. (He did have a lot of fun smashing the scale his mother got him for his birthday once)

Dewey was supposed to teach his kids about mental illness for a suicide prevention thing the school did, but got about halfway through before he had a breakdown and the kids declared the rest of the day a bust. They watched cute animated movies instead of learning for the rest of the school day.

Speaking of animated movies, Dewey really loves Studio Ghibli.

The first time one of his kids called him ‘Dad’ he cried. Then they kept doing it and now he’s had to accept that he’s basically a father to about 30 11-year-olds.

If you ask any kid in the school who their favorite teacher is, they will not hesitate to answer ‘Mr. Finn.’ Even if they aren’t in his class, he’s their favorite.

Dewey’s classroom is always open for lunch. It’s quiet and calm, usually with a movie going in the background.

He also stays after school for about an hour every day, helping kids with homework. He hates math with a passion but that didn’t stop him from trying to figure out Katie’s math homework with her.

Even at home, Dewey cannot stand the quiet. He either has his headphones on or the radio going. Silence just isn’t an option.

Dewey once got pneumonia and tried to come in to work anyway. The kids made him go home. He didn’t really put up much of a fight.

The first instrument Dewey ever learned to play was the piano. He started to learn when he was super young, and that was how he learned how to read music. His kids didn’t even know he knew how to play until they walked in on him practicing one day.

Dewey says ‘fuck gender roles’ and wears the girl’s skirts to a few SoR concerts. He likes the way it makes his legs look.

Some jerk parents constantly tried to get Dewey in trouble for months because they didn��t like him and thought he wasn’t ‘high class’ enough for their kid’s education. Dewey was so stunned when they showed up during one of his classes that he couldn’t speak and just started to cry. Said student stood up and called their parents out. Two days later, those parents were off the school board.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the spectrum, Dewey found out a new kid he’d received was being abused at home because they weren’t getting high enough grades and he yelled at the kid’s parents in front of all the other staff members.

Essentially, Dewey can’t defend himself at all, but will not hesitate to protect his kids.

Dewey has said multiple times he would die for his kids. He’s always 100% serious, especially during lockdown drills.

Once, the school had a lockdown that wasn’t a drill, and Dewey managed to keep his entire class silent and calm while mentally preparing himself to lay his life down for his kids. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.

Dewey’s also said he’d seriously consider adopting any of the kids if their at-home situation was that bad.

When he finally could, Dewey moved out of Ned’s house and into his own cramped loft apartment. He’s in love with the apartment, even though it’s tiny and kinda smells.

Dewey has almost no concept of volume control. He’s slightly deaf from constantly doing very loud shows and sometimes shouts because he thinks that’s a normal speaking volume.

As one of, if not the actual, youngest teachers at the school, Dewey is universally adored by the rest of the staff. It took a while for all of them to get on board with him, but now they all really like him.

Dewey’s favorite fruit is pomegranate. There’s just something super cathartic about cutting into a pomegranate and slowly de-seeding it. Plus, it tastes super good. But he only likes them if he can de-seed them himself.

One of the ways Dewey grounds himself is by pressing things to his mouth. He usually just puts his hand up on his face or the end of a pen in his mouth, but whenever he has a blanket, one corner is up against his lips. The same goes for stuffed animals. They’re always against his face. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

#school of rock #dewey finn #school of rock the musical #alex brightman #my headcanons

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