#then you came home from work at like 3pm when I was home sick from work and said you quit your job you’re

[fortheloveofthestyles]

Damn does it sting when the love of your life moves on without you

[familyvideostevie]

A top gun anon (again - hi I’m obsessed).

If you’re taking rooster requests I’ll probably love ANYTHING you write but like, sick fic rooster? Or idk even cocky enemies-to-lovers rooster is the vibe.

But seriously, anything. 💕

hi! thank you for being so patient, i know you sent this ages ago! i went with bradley taking care of you when you're sick <3 | fem!reader, sick fic, fluff, 1.2k

"Did you feel sick when you woke up?" Bradley's voice is crackly over the phone. Reception on the base is touch and go, so you're lucky to have gotten through to him at all.

"No," you mutter. "Well, not really. Not enough to do anything about it."

It's mostly true. When your boyfriend had gotten up at his usual 4am hour for a run before heading to work to teach cocky young aviators how to fly million-dollar hunks of metal, you'd felt fine. Tired, obviously, but used to accepting his kiss goodbye and going back to sleep. The faint ache at your temple hadn't registered until you'd woken up only an hour later, the sun barely in the sky, to a full-blown headache. And after that came chills, nausea, and a low fever. 

"Do you want me to come home early?" Bradley asks. You pull your phone away from your face and squint at it. It's only 1pm and you know he's meant to teach until at least 5. But you're feeling pretty sorry for yourself in your nest of blankets and your growing pile of tissues and you want him to hold you.

"No need," you say. You can handle a few more hours. "I called to ask you to pick up some stuff on your way home though, if you don't mind."

He scoffs and you can practically hear the exasperated raise of his eyebrows. "If I don't mind. That fever really has messed with your head, huh?" There's a shuffling sound, like he's moving the phone to his other ear. "I'll get all the good stuff," he tells you. "Top shelf flu medicine and soup and Gatorade and anything else you want. Any special requests?"

You shut your eyes and feel the bridge of your nose start to sting. You've been together long enough that it shouldn't get to you -- the ease of Bradley's love. The way he does things above and beyond for you from the simplest of tasks to big romantic gestures. It makes your heart constrict in your chest and you want more than anything to hold him right now. 

"No," you say thickly. "Just you, Bradley." He sighs over the phone. It sounds like longing. 

"Okay, sweetheart," he says, voice softer. "You took something, right? Like, Tylenol, or --"

"Yeah," you tell him, sniffling a little and hoping he doesn't hear it. "Yeah, I'm in bed under like, every blanket in the house and I took some with a piece of toast about an hour ago."

Someone calls Bradley's callsign in the background. He ignores it. "Go to sleep or something and I'll be home when you wake up, yeah?" You hear Rooster! again.

"Get back to work, Lieutenant," you whisper. He laughs. "Love you," you add.

"Love you back," he says immediately. "Get some rest, sick girl."

You do as he says, curling under the blankets and doing your best to doze. It seems to work, since your eyes pop open who knows how long later to the sound of the front door closing. You blink blearily and feel your head pounding, still. You're hot instead of cold which means your fever hasn't budged and you feel disgusting. Maybe Bradley will draw you a bath if you ask. 

Speaking of -- either you're being robbed or your boyfriend is home. The covers seem to have eaten your phone but you fish it out and check the time -- only 3pm. You've only been asleep for a little while and he's home way too early, so you roll yourself out of bed with a groan, taking a blanket with you even though you're sweating a little. 

Bradley is in the kitchen unloading two stuffed bags, his back to you. You watch him pull out soups from your favorite deli, far too many bottles of your favorite flavor of Gatorade, and an entire pharmacy's worth of cold and flu meds.

"Did you buy the whole store?" you say, voice scratchy from sleep. You sound sick to your own ears. Your boyfriend whips around and his shoulders loosen at the sight of you, though his brows are drawn tight with concern. 

"Should you be out of bed?" he scolds, though his arms reach for you as he does. "C'mere." You shuffle into his space and he gently rests one hand on your cheek and presses the back of the other to your forehead. "Still hot," he mutters.

"I'm always hot," you tease, though it comes out halfhearted as you're hit with another round of shivers. Bradley smirks but his brows don't unfurl. "You're home early."

He strokes the skin below your eye before turning back to the counter to put his purchases away. He doesn't have to be in uniform to teach, but he wore it today, so he must have had some meetings. Even in your sick state, you admire how handsome he is. "Couldn't leave you home sick all alone, could I?" he says. You amble over to the kitchen stools and plop into one before you fall over. Your head is still pounding.

"You could have," you tell him. He leaves out one Gatorade, a dose of cold and flu medicine, and a container of soup.

"I'll rephrase," he says. "I missed you and I wanted to come home to take care of you." The bridge of your nose starts to burn again. You close your eyes. It feels silly to be so overwhelmed but you can't help it. Everything hurts and you're feeling sorry for yourself and you have the most perfect man in the world ready and willing to take care of you. It's basic, expected behavior from someone who loves you but it never ceases to feel like a miracle. 

"I'm glad you're home," you whisper. You hear Bradley walk towards you, feel him slide next to your stool. You open your eyes to find him close, looking at you with tenderness and fondness and concern all wrapped in one. "I feel like shit," you say, laughing a little wetly. 

"My poor baby," Bradley sighs. You twist in your seat and reach for him, blanketed arms winding around his waist as he pulls you to him, face pressed into his chest and his arms looping around your shoulders. He strokes your hair and you cringe to think about how it's kind of dirty. But you don't linger on it and instead breathe him in -- he smells like oil, desert wind, and cologne. He smells like home.

"Here's what I'm thinking," he says. "I run you a bath and you soak while the soup heats up and I change the sheets and then we get some meds and liquids in you. And then we can get in bed and watch a movie, or something."

"Okay," you say into his shirt. You pull away to look up at him. "That sounds nice." Bradley smiles at you and cups your cheek, bringing his face down for a kiss. You press a palm to his mouth. "You'll get sick," you chide.

He kisses your hand before drawing it away. "I've got an immune system of steel. And if I do, you'll just take care of me." It's not a question, it's not a joke. It's just a fact and you both know it. You take care of each other. 

"Okay," you say softly, before pressing your lips to his. It's a chaste kiss but it's a familiar one. It's I'm here, I'm home. It's you're safe, you're going to be okay. It's I love you.

"Bath," Bradley mumbles against your mouth. "Let's go, sick girl."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[kassymalone]

Allow me to share with you, dear reader, a story of what happened today. There is no lesson to be learned in this story, no deeper parable: it is merely a snapshot of a moment in time.

So Manchester City (the football team, not the city) has won the treble (which seems to be a big deal if you’re into football), so naturally this is cause for Manchester city (the city, not the team) to celebrate.

On Friday some representatives from the business improvement district came by to warn us that if City won the treble, there’d be a parade that went right by our shop. Today, that parade happened.

It was a nice day. Even on the way to work this morning, they were starting to close off the roads in the city centre. At lunch time it was 31 degrees, an absolute anomaly in the north of England, with a powder blue sky and next to no breeze.

At around 2pm they started.

The vuvuzelas.

If you’re lucky enough to never have heard a vuvuzela (and you are lucky), imagine if someone made a goose out of cheap plastic, somehow turned the volume up ten times louder than you thought possible from such a little thing, and then gave it to a small child.

HONK, HONK, HONK-HONK-HONK, HONK-HONK-HONK-HONK, HONK-HONK. If you know the song you know it. The parade wasn’t due to start until 6.30pm, but around 2pm it started.  

The workers rolled the security fences out around 3pm, closing the road directly in front of our shop. Luckily we had already made the target for the day, because our business tanked after that. Not for lack of people - the people were gathering all along the road, staking out good places.

Fast forward to 5pm. The honking in unbearable, I have to close the doors just to hear the person next to me speak. We’re packing up early because of how quiet it’s become. Outside, a sea of powder blue (the teams official colour) is lining the street, the shirts looking like they drained the colour straight from the sky. Horns are honking, people are yelling.

I look to the doors. A child has climbed a lamp post, and is sat quite happily on the crossbar. I look away. When I look back, a couple of hefty young men have climbed another lamp post. The third time I look, they’re all shirtless. The street is getting busier and busier, the door to our shop is blocked by people.

At this point, the light is changing. All the shirts that took the blue sky left an angry slate grey in its place. The temperature drops rapidly. Horns are honking, people are yelling.

Thunder rumbles.

The sky opens.

The entire crowd cheers.

Not a single person moves from the spot they’d been staking out for hours. They cheer, chant, and jump in place, but they don’t move as hail the size of marbles rains down from above.

Finally, we closed. In the time it took me to cash up the tills, I managed to miss the actual parade.

“They weren’t wearing any shirts!” the young Indian girl working with me gasped “And it was raining! They’re going to get sick!”

What else would you do, stuck on a parade float in a thunder storm because people have been waiting literal hours to celebrate you? Might as well give them a show.

It was still raining when I locked the door, and that was long enough for me to get completely soaked. The parade was gone, and everyone else is leaving too - the die-hard fans following the parade route, everyone else ducking through back alleys and side roads. A blue river of people flowing towards the buses, trains and trams, squealing and splashing through the rain and cold, wet puddles, the kind of wet you forget exists until the next time it thunders.

The bus is so busy I seriously consider just walking home. Its an hour walk, in a thunderstorm, but I think about it. By the time I reach my stop the heat is starting to return, and the petrichor is almost suffocating. Students crowd in their doorways smoking, dressed in bikini tops and shorts and talking about Amsterdam. 

I finally open the door and a ginger cat screams at me. Some normality at last.

[snazzymolasses]

When I was 22, I almost died from not sleeping. No, that is not hyperbole.

I had a hellish schedule- I was working full-time to afford rent/food, while also doing a full-time college class schedule and student-teaching at an elementary school.

I slept on Saturdays. No, that isn't a joke.

My schedule was:

5am - 6am Shower/eat breakfast 6am - 6:45am Drive to elementary school 7pm - 3pm Teach (lunch was in ther) 3pm - 3:30pm Drive to college 3:30pm - 6:30pm Class 7:00pm - 4am Work (dinner was in there; I worked at a pizza place) 4am - 4:45am Drive home 5am - 6am Shower/eat breakfast Same exact thing as before, except now it's called Tuesday. Do you see anywhere in that schedule to sleep? Nope. Cause there isn't.

So at 4:45am on Saturday mornings, I'd get home and sleep for about 24 hours. Then on Sundays I did all my homework/studying for the week, and planned all my teaching lessons.

This was my schedule for the semester, which means I went on like this for months. And because I was so young, my body handled this until APRIL, which is 4 months in.

And then it crashed. Hard.

I was in the middle of teaching 2nd grade, when suddenly...my voice stopped working. No matter what I did, I couldn't clear my throat. Drank some water. Nothing. Couldn't talk.

Sat down at my desk, and realized, suddenly, instantly, that I was sick. Very sick. I had never felt anything like it. 10 minutes ago I'd been fine, and now I had a raging fever. My cheeks were burning. My head was throbbing.

I wrote a note to my mentor teacher that I had to go to the doctor, didn't even wait for her to reply, and left.

The drive from the school to my college's infirmary (which was free for students and I was piss poor so it was my only option for medical care) was 45 minutes, and I wasn't sure I was going to make it.

When the nurse took my temperature, it was 104F (40C). She said "Oh my God." and gave me an insane dose of Tylenol, forced me to drink a gallon of Tang, and then left to go find the doctor. And I could no longer keep my eyes open. I laid down right there on the exam table and fell asleep.

They said I slept for two hours. They let me; they said it was important for me to get my fever down, and the Tylenol and Tang worked, by then it was in the non-dangerous range of 101F (38C).

Then I had a horrific coughing fit. What came out of my lungs was nasty; but after that, I was able to talk. The doctor told me I had severe bronchitis. He wanted me to go to a hospital.

I told him I couldn't afford a hospital. He seemed to understand; he gave me a long list of medications to take, and due to the nurse's infinite kindness, she gave them to me out of the infirmary's stores for free.

I got into my car with a huge bag full of medications and took the 45 minute drive home. On the way I stopped at the grocery store. I knew I was going to have to drink tons of fluids, and I also knew that once I crashed in my bed, I would not be coming back out. I left with as much juice and soda as I could carry and somehow, made it home.

I was bedridden for four. Weeks. 22 years old, had been otherwise healthy all my life, and now I was barely able to leave the bed to use the bathroom and then crawl back into it. During the day I was able to move to the couch. I couldn't cook; I lived on cereal and peanut butter. I knew I was failing all my classes; it didn't matter. I couldn't go to them. I knew I was failing my student-teaching, it didn't matter. I was barely alive. I knew I was an inch from death's door. Sometimes, when I closed my eyes, I wondered if I would open them again. I coughed so hard I pulled the muscles in my abdomen. I couldn't work; I had no idea how I was going to pay my rent. It didn't matter. I had to sleep.

I did survive. I did get well. It took months for my cough to go away. My lungs became scarred on the inside; after that, I had asthma, for the rest of my life. This was 20 years ago, and I still have it.

ALL BECAUSE I DIDN'T GIVE MY BODY SLEEP.

After that, I learned my lesson. There was nothing, and I mean NOTHING, more important than letting my body rest. When I went back to school, it was part-time. The old me was worried about graduating in 4 years; the new me learned that didn't matter as much as getting rest. So what if it took me 8 years to graduate? What good was a degree if I was dead? (I wound up graduating in 7 years).

The old me crammed my internship (student teaching) and classes into the same semester. The new me did not; if I was interning then I wasn't taking classes at the same time. I also waited until I could get an internship that paid me, so that I didn't also have to work as many hours at my other job. I learned to slow down. I learned it was GOOD to slow down. It was HEALTHY to take my time.

I also changed jobs from pizza to bank teller. It paid the same, but there were no night shifts. Night was for sleeping, night was for rest, and I was never, ever, going to deny my body what it needed again.

Now? Nobody is going to take my sleep from me. No societal pressure, no guilt trip, no "but if you just worked harder." FUCK working harder. I want to live. I am going to sleep. Take your working harder and shove it. I am going to bed.

And so should you.

Has anyone else noticed that as a society, we’re shamed for wanting to sleep? Sleeping in is bad, naps are only okay if they’re 20 minutes, you cant be tired unless you’re a <insert career/lifestyle choice here>, so on and so forth.

I mean, I think we all need to spread our blankets out, cuddle a pillow, and go to sleep. Everyone needs more of it, fuck this “it’s not productive” nonsense. It’s okay to sleep, it’s okay to want to sleep. You’re not lazy because of it.

[11yearsinthemaking]

A little catch up

It's been a while since my last entry (11 months ago to be exact). A lot has happened, let me give you guys a run down on what happened for the past 11 months. (Actually, I'll only be talking about what happened from December to June 2024)

December 2023

Robi and I went on a three-day trip to Baguio with his friends to attend our friend's wedding. This was the first time I got to meet his friends from UMTC and work. We also went on a little side trip to Pangasinan to pick-up one of his friends. We had breakfast by the beach and watched the sun rise before driving to Baguio. Its been a while since the last time I went to Baguio, college pa yata? When we reached Baguio, we went straight to our other friend's house for lunch, and to rest muna since we left super early from Bulacan and our check in time in our airbnb is not for another two hours. We were served pinikpikan for lunch to which everyone enjoyed. A few hours later we went to our airbnb, freshened up a bit then went out again to have dinner and visit Baguio's famous night market. Ang daming tao grabe, after night market, since we still have some energy left, we decided to go to a bar where we can chill and drink. We also went to visit the club downstairs and ended up having a good time naman but we lowkey realized that we're too old na for partying and we cannot keep up with the kids' energy sa club (tito and tita mode on), we just had one bottle of smirnoff each before going back to our airbnb.

Next day was the day of the wedding. We ended up having a good time during the wedding and the reception. Everything was just so beautiful and magical.

Third and last day came, we wen't out early morning to go to the market and buy pasalubongs. I was already feeling a bit under the weather since I have a weak immune system and I get sick easy :( We went home before lunch and arrived back in Bulacan at around 3pm I think. Anyway nakakapagod na trip, and I ended up getting sick for like a week but I enjoyed every bit of it.

Another thing that happened in december is our First Year Anniversary, which sadly we didn't get to celebrate because he had to go back to work (ship) na. But we're still hoping we get to celebrate our anniversary in the upcoming years.

January-June 2024

LDR (long-distance-relationship) nanaman for six months! Thankfully there's internet which allows us to talk, send pictures and video updates to each other. Communication was a bit easier and convenient this time since robi had access to stronger internet (thank u swire for upgrading, lol), we can call and sometimes do videocall pa. Although what was challenging was the time difference, kasi he travels from Asia to US to Canada then back to Asia, and nakakastress yung pag-aadjust ng time everyday. But like any other strong couple out there, we managed to stay strong and survived another contract.

Here are some snaps from our 6 month-long-distance-relationshp :)

[annieintheaair]

It’s 7am. I’ve been awake since 3am, tossing and turning, listening to ocean sounds, hoping to calm me and put me back to sleep. No luck.

Around 5am, after laying in bed for two hours not sleeping, a purple orb appeared in my bedroom. Of course, I had to google it. What did it all mean? Well, I read about it here. To say I’ve been freaking out is an understatement. I lost all hope of falling back asleep after that. How appropriate that hours after writing here about feeling alone, a purple orb would show up to remind me that I’m not alone. What other messages did they come to share? Was it a message about forgiveness? Healing? I’m not entirely sure but I tried my best not to be scared and try to understand that it was supposed to be a comfort.

Last night I conquered one of my biggest fears— driving in the rain. It was a monsoon outside. I swear the rain came down even harder just as I was about to leave my house. I almost accepted the late cancel fee just so I wouldn’t have to drive. I prayed the entire way. It was so hard to see with the rain just pouring buckets. It reminded me of the night back in June when I drove through the rain and flooded and totaled my dream car. I still have PTSD from that day.

I wish I could say that the drive to yoga was worth it but instead I spent the whole class losing my balance, completely unfocused, and trying not to throw up. I almost walked out 15 minutes into class because I wasn’t sure if I could make it. By the end of class, as I’m usually dreading it coming to an end, not wanting to get up from shavasana, instead I was trying to resist the urge to check my watch to see when it would be over. I couldn’t wait to get home.

All day yesterday, I tried to put shows and movies on. Two days in a row, I can’t even tell you what I tried to watch because my attention was completely gone. Instead, I clocked more hours yesterday at my part-time job than I’ve ever clocked there before. I spent my entire day pouring myself into emails, helping customers, trying to do damage control to solve all of their problems, and preparing a report for the meeting that I have to lead every Tuesday.

By 3pm yesterday, I still hadn’t eaten a single thing. My stomach hurt and I was hungry but felt like eating anything would make me feel worse. Instead, I poured myself a mug of beef broth and sipped on it while I worked.

I wish I could rewind time; turn the clock back; find a time machine. I don’t even need to go back that far, just a few days so I could redo everything, make different decisions, and fix my mistakes. Maybe I’d be sleeping better, eating, and not feeling so sick. Maybe I wouldn’t be thinking about the Home Chef order that will probably go to waste this week because I can’t eat it.

Dogs always know when you’re sad. When I woke up at 3am, both of my dogs were cuddled up close next to me. I reached over to pet them and they both gave me kisses. We seriously do not deserve dogs.

At this point, going back to sleep probably won’t happen. Maybe I can get myself asleep for an afternoon nap later before work but I’m not counting on it. Coffee would be nice today if I could actually drink it.

Oh, 2024, I’m already disappointed.

xoxo

Annie

*After I wrote this, I actually did end up falling asleep for a short period of time. I had a weird but comforting dream. For a while, I felt like I could still feel Dan around after he passed but then it felt like he went away once he knew I was okay and moving on. After seeing the purple orb this morning, in my dream, which felt so real, he showed up. No words were spoken. He walked up to me and gave me a hug as I cried. It felt like the ultimate goodbye. When the dream continued on without him, I felt a weird sense of comfort, like it was all suddenly ok.*

[darkmulti]

yandere ceo husband!jungkook stockholm syndrome!oc

where oc dosen’t stop crying during nc sex and jungkook makes her believe he can replace her by fucking his assistant but kinda becomes soft at last??

⚠️: NON CON, DEGRADATION, MANIPULATION, YANDERE!JUNGKOOK

-> sorry for any mistakes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t afraid of your husband

It was an arranged marriage and you were definitely against it

But did you have a say? Nope

This was your parents’ way of getting rid of you

The night you guys came home from your wedding, you told him that you’d file for divorce as soon as you could but he got mad

“You will do no such thing. My parents want this marriage to work out and you will not humiliate me by filing for divorce.”

Jungkook was strict, and straightforward

He didn’t like jokes or teasing

It would actually aggravate him

He wanted you to be a perfect little housewife

Cook, clean and take care of him like he was a child

He’d fuck you all the time too, despite you crying and rejecting him

He believed it was your job to pleasure him

Jungkook would always degrade you for being useless/worthless so you decided to change that

You hated staying at home because it made you feel suffocated

You got called in for an interview at an office job and you went without him knowing

After the meeting, you walked out with the job and were kinda excited to tell him

You brought it up at dinner that you’re gonna start working 5 days a week but he was angry with you

“Why did you get a job without my permission? Do you think I can’t take care of us? Tell your boss you can’t work anymore and if you don’t, I’m going to have to get involved.”

He threw the fork on the plate and dramatically left but you didn’t listen to him

First of all, he degraded you for being worthless

But now, he’s getting mad at you for getting a job?

It was your life, this was only an arranged marriage, how dare he try to control your life?

You didn’t go to school all your life only to not work

Jungkook had long hour shifts

He’d leave early in the morning and come home around evening or sometimes even later

Once Jungkook leaves for work, you leave an hour after him and get off at 3pm

That way he doesn’t know that you’re gone working

If he messages you and asks you what you’re doing, you lie and say you’re out doing errands

About three months into your job, he started to catch on

One day, he tested his theory and decided to take a day off on a week day

You didn’t want to call in sick because your boss was already ticked off at you because you’ve been coming to work late because of Jungkook

Jungkook started leaving later in the morning, so you couldn’t get ready and leave in time because he would definitely question you

You encouraged Jungkook to shower and once he got into the bathroom, you scrambled to get ready and ran out of the house

He called your name a couple of times before noticing your car was gone

He then called you and asked you where you were going and you made up an excuse and said you forgot that you had a brunch date with your best friend

Little did you know that he made you share your location with him on your phone

He quickly got ready and arrived at your location which was the job that he told you not to take

Jungkook was furious

So furious, he stormed into your work place and made a scene about you

You popped up and quickly panicked when you saw his face

He immediately made eye contact with you and dragged you out by the wrist

It was so embarrassing, he humiliated you in front of your colleagues and boss

He dragged you into his car and made one call to get your stuff and your car towed

The pushed you into the house, yelling at the top of his lungs, “You lying slut!”

You were petrified so you made a run for it to the room but couldn’t close the door in time

He was right behind you the whole time and pushed the door open with his body

You fell back, making it easier for him to close and lock the door

You knew exactly what was going to happen

He threw you on the bed and fucked you hard all night long

You guys ended up in the guest room bed because he broke the bed in the master room

You were curled up on the edge of the bed, far away from him

You would’ve gone downstairs to the living room to sleep on the couch, but your legs were numb

You had hickies and bite marks all over your neck

Your thighs were practically glued together because of the dried up cum between them

You were fired from your job anyways and ever since that day, you became submissive to him out of fear

He was next level lunatic

He’d have sex with you every day despite you sobbing and shaking under him

He knew well that you were afraid, but did he care? Not really

It was actually amusing and kind of a turn on

But once he brought up the topic of kids, then he was annoyed by your crying

Having children with him would tie you to him for life

You didn’t want that

He knew you didn’t want that which is why it angered him when you started crying

Jungkook stopped buying birth control for you and you started to panic

You wanted to go and buy it for yourself but he took away all your money and car keys

“Jungkook? Do you know where my car keys are? I really need to get something.”

“Get what?”

“Um, tampons.” You lied, praying he’d let you go get them

“Which kind do you want? I’ll get someone to buy it and bring it to you.”

You hesitated but still replied with, “actually, there’s something else that I need to buy.”

“Stop wasting my time and tell me what it is.”

“Birth control. You didn’t give me this months package so I thought you forgot. I haven’t taken it in like a week already.”

Jungkook got up from his desk, taking his glasses off

“I told you what I wanted, so why don’t you just listen to me?” he said, walking towards you and you instinctively walked backwards

“I told you I’m not ready for children yet, please give me some ti-”

He pushed you up against the wall and started kissing you roughly

He was touching your breast and grabbing your ass

He picked you up then took you upstairs to the room while you fought with all your power

You managed to slip out of his grip and book it to the front door but he tripped you

You landed face first before he dragged your defeated body upstairs

“Jungkook stop! Please stop! I’m not ready for kids, please I beg you.”

He ripped your clothes and scattered them around the room

Jungkook got on top of you, rubbed your slick down to your pussy for some lube and entered in without anymore foreplay

You were still throwing hands, knowing that if he cums in you, you have a high chance of getting pregnant

He pinned down your hands and started clapping you hard right from the start

He kept telling you that your his wife and this was your job

And that his parents wanted to be grandparents by now

But you were mortified of him

You kept sobbing, kicking, rolling, doing everything to get him to stop but nothing worked

An hour went by fast and he was still deep inside of you, keeping up

You were exhausted by now

Your body was crying for help

You were already feeling so bad about yourself until Jungkook decided to add on,

“Stop fucking crying or I’ll fucking replace you with my assistant. She’d actually appreciate my cock unlike you, you ungrateful, lying, useless piece of shit.” He spanked your ass and continued moving his hips at a fast pace

Now he was comparing you to his assistant, god knows why

Instead of becoming quieter, you sobbed louder and harder, fearing that you’ll be replaced and homeless because of him

You knew he had the power to do that to you

He kept going on and on about how his assistant is much more attractive than you and much more put together

All of it was a lie of course, in fact he had a male assistant, but seeing you apologize under him made him so horny, he felt like he could fuck you forever

“P-please don’t replace me! P-please don’t kick me out, I- I have no where else to go. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better. I’ll give you kids. Just don’t leave me.”

Now that was more like it, Jungkook thought

He’d been dying to hear those words come out of your mouth

He finished off the round by coming in you once again, ensured that he’s impregnated you

He gently picks up your body and you wrap yourself around him, sobbing into his neck

“Please don’t leave me. Please.” You whimper but all he does is smile

He kept you close all night, and would never ever leave your side in the future

[navalcriminalimagines]

I'm sick rn and I really need a Jethro Gibbs to take care of me while i suffer from fever🤧

Hi anon! I hope you’re feeling better ❤️ and that this would help 😘 Take care!

Fever

You tried to fight whatever germ that got into you as much as possible, but it won. In the morning, you tried to get into work like any other day, but you were so weak and feverish, your boss forced you to go home and get some rest.

You considered calling your boyfriend to let him know, but you thought against it in the end. You knew he was working on a hard case and you didn’t want to be a burden. So, all you did was getting home, taking some meds and buried yourself under the blanket.

You literally passed out in bed. When you finally woke up, you had a wet washcloth on your forehead that you didn’t remember getting. When you tiredly looked under the blanket, you realized that your work clothes were gone, you were wearing one of your Gibbs t-shirts, shorts and socks. You hate wearing socks into bed. When you turned your face to the nightstand, looking for your phone, all you found was a glass of water and meds. You didn’t remember doing any of those things.

“Don’t you dare.” You heard when you tried to climb out of bed. You’d have screamed from fear, if you hadn’t recognized his voice immediately. You followed the sound, and saw Gibbs sitting in the armchair across the room. Before you could process, he was standing and walking up to you, laying you back down into bed. “You’re not moving from this bed until you’re feeling better.” He used the boss’s ton.

When you were laying again, Gibbs sat next to you, and bent over to softly kiss your forehead. He kept his lips press against your kiss and you knew he was trying to know where you fever was at. “What time is it?” You asked, weakly.

“Around 3pm,” he answered, stroking your cheek. “You’re burning up.” He felt sorry for you, and how he wished he could take the germs away.

“What are you doing here in the middle of the day?” You curled up. You may have been burning up, but you felt so cold, that you were shivering.

“Why didn’t you call?” He shot back, grabbing the glass of water and meds that he probably had prepared. “Can you take this for me? Ducky’s order.”

You got yourself on your elbow and took the pills from his hand. Once it was swallowed, your head immediately hit the pillow again. You were feeling horrible. “When was Ducky here?” You closed your eyes despite yourself. You wanted to look at him, enjoy his presence but you were so tired.

Gibbs put the washcloth back against your forehead. “Doesn’t matter. Next time you’re sick, but don’t bother telling me, there will be consequences.”

“I love consequences.” You said with a grin, and Gibbs chuckled.

“Go back to sleep, honey. Food will be waiting for you to wake up again.”

“Will you?” Unconsciously, you had his polo shirt in your fist. Gibbs softly made you open your hand, and he kissed your knuckles.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He said.

“Then hold me. Germs hate you, you’re safe.”

Even if he could catch what you had, he wouldn’t care. He got to his assigned side of the bed and lay down next to you. You were already half asleep, so he gently brought your body against his. You shivered again and he held you closer. He didn’t care that you were sweating all over him, he held you, stroked your hair and gave you occasional kisses until you woke up again.

“Bath then food or food then bath?” He asked when your eyes met his. The fever dropped a couple of hours ago, and you looked like you were feeling a little better.

“Are you coming into the bath with me?”

“If you want me to.”

“Bath first.”

He pecked your lips and got out of bed. “Don’t move.”

A few minutes later, Gibbs came to the bedroom. He helped you sitting up, and started to undress you. “I can—“ you tried to object.

“Shh.”

You let him. Once you were naked, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and carried you to the bathroom like you were nothing. You hung onto me like a koala bear and it made him chuckle. You only let go of each other once you were in the bathtub. While he undressed, you realized that he lit two candles, and put one of your bath bombs into the water. “You hate bath bombs.”

“I don’t hate them,” he climbed into the tub, settling behind you. He brought your back against his chest. “I don’t get the purpose.” He kissed your shoulder.

“You don’t get the purpose of baths, period.”

“With you in it, they have a purpose.”

“Do they, now?” You leaned your head against his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to kiss your jawline.

“Yes. But that’s not why we’re in it right now.”

You whined, but he was right. You may have felt better than a few hours before, but you were still exhausted and the fever wasn’t completely gone. Sex could wait.

You and Gibbs soaked into the bath for about an hour - you almost fell into sleep again - before he helped you wash. He assisted you in everything, and it was the sweetest thing ever. He was so gentle, and soft and loving. When you were back into bed after he changed the sheets - refusing your help - you stared at him while he brought food. “Your case—“ you started to say.

“No case is more important than you and your health.” He said, putting the plate on your lap.

“It’s just the flu, or something.” You interjected.

“Could be a cold for all I care.” He settled next to you with his own plate.

“I love you.” You said before you could stop yourself. At this moment, you were burning hot and it was because of the fever. It was the first time you told him those words. It didn’t intend to, and you were scared of his reaction.

“I love you, too.” He kissed your temple. “Now eat.”

Maybe you should get sick more often.

[breelandwalker]

Don't Fuck With My Broom

So a funny thing happened earlier that brought something from last year full circle.

Back in the autumn of 2021, I came in to work one day to find that the decorative broom I kept hanging on my cubicle was broken. And broken in...kind of an odd way. The brush was separate from the shaft and both pieces were in the garbage bin next to my desk.

Obviously, I thought this was very strange since it had been fine the last time I'd been there. It must have happened at a very specific time because of the maintenance schedule - if it had happened during office hours before 3pm, the trash would have been emptied and it would have just been gone. Only a very few of my coworkers are ever in that area and I couldn't be sure who all had been there because I'd been off sick with a migraine the day before.

As I was puzzling over this, I picked up the pieces to examine them, thinking maybe it had been an accident. Nope. Someone had clearly YANKED the brush off the shaft, which was not easy to do. It had to be deliberate.

Cue the narrowed eyes and the flexing of the claws.

I was able to repair the broom by carefully threading the brush back onto the handle and adding a couple dots of glue to keep it in place. A few twigs were lost in the process, but it was more or less good as new.

The very next day, I was asked to transfer to another department to cover a staffing shortage, so my workspace was moved across the building. I dutifully packed up all my stuff and set about making a home in my new workspace. The first thing that went up was the newly-repaired broom.

Fast forward to today.

Most of our organization is still working from home. My team is one of the few that needs to be onsite for logistical reasons, but sometimes folks will come in to say hi while they're in for a meeting or to pick up materials or whatever.

So this one guy comes through who used to have an office right near my old desk. To say that this person and I are not friends is a gross understatement. He's a blowhard and a bully who gladhands the higher-ups while treating his underlings like shit. I'm a professional, so I'm always cordial but I also know a snake when I see one and I cover my ass accordingly.

(Especially considering he's tried to throw me under the bus on multiple occasions and has been thwarted by the fact that I keep METICULOUS receipts.)

So he makes the rounds and stops in to say hello and exchange the usual pleasantries. And he pauses. And he looks surprised.

"Oh hey, you still have that broom? Or is this a new one?"

Radar goes PING.

This guy sometimes comes in to the office in the late afternoons to put in a few hours. He's the only person who could have been there after 3pm who also would have been stupid enough to mess with my space.

I smile placidly and say, "Oh yeah, I've had that thing for ages now. It's the same one. It got a little roughed up a few months back, but I fixed it. A witch has gotta have her broom, after all."

All the while, I'm giving him biggest sharp-toothed grin because this motherfucker looks SHOOK and I have a pretty good idea who was responsible for the mishap now. He pulls himself together, says bye and leaves.

I start carving his full name into a wooden coffee stirrer and cackle quietly to myself.

[christ0pher-evans]

Healed Heart

Final Part of the Shattered Heart Mini-Series

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: 18+ Minor Smut / Angst / Cheating / Arguing / Mentions of Divorce / Swearing Word Count: 2.9k A/N: So here is the final part of my mini-series. I honestly cannot thank you so much for the support on this, it means a lot to me and I love you guys for it!!! Please let me know what you think. I hope you’re happy with the ending because it took me a really long time to decide how I could finish off this story with justice. Thank you again, truly😘 Please reblog and like🖤

Part One: Shattered Heart Part Two: Troubled Heart Part Three: Bewildered Heart

 ♡

Three tortuous days had passed since you had last seen or spoke to Chris, three days since you kicked him out your home. You’d had nightmares about being in a loveless and hateful marriage, steamy dreams about your recent rendezvous and nights where you just felt so alone that you had cried yourself to sleep. It was safe to say that the past three days had been exhausting. 

Although fucking Chris in the kitchen during a harrowing argument probably wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done, it led to some realisations about how you wanted to proceed with your marriage. You definitely didn’t regret anything you said, or did with Chris that day and that was what you found important amongst the disaster. Not regretting your decisions meant that you knew you wanted to move forward in your marriage, and not look backwards; something you would consider a big first step in repairing your marriage. You knew you couldn’t forget what happened and would have to address it before moving forward but you knew you had the desire to push through the hard times. 

You’d called Chris that morning and told him that you wanted him to come home, not that he could or should but that you wanted him at home with you. Emotionally, it felt like the right decision, because at the end of the day he was your husband and you missed him. Practically, it is his home as well and it was the only place you could both be to sort out your marriage with privacy. You didn’t want to be surrounded by the media or by prying eyes. Hell, you didn’t even want the opinion of family or friends, this was between you and Chris only. 

As you tidied up the house a bit and thought about the moment Chris would walk through the door, it was clear to you that no matter how angry or hurt you were, Chris was your endgame. You had played all the variables over and over in your head loads of times, societal rights and wrongs about cheating when you realised, fuck society. You would never leave your husband over this, and that was okay. This was your story and who cared what anyone else thought, because you didn’t want to give up. You owe it to yourself, to your marriage, to try and fix everything before throwing it away. 

For the first few days, Chris slept in the spare room and you danced around each other, trying to find your new normal whilst you navigated the mess that was your marriage. 

Once the first week passed, Chris continued to sleep in the spare room and you finally plucked up the courage to address the problem that had been plaguing your marriage for weeks, months if you consider back to when the problem initially started. 

The day you decided to bring it up, you had finished work early and Chris was already at home when you arrived back around 3pm. 

Walking through the house, you finally found Chris in the home office. 

“I thought you were filming today?” Chris looked up at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh hi sweetheart. I didn’t hear you come in? Um, yeah I was but, uh.. she turned up to re-film some scenes so I came home.” 

You winced at the thought of her and Chris together but was quickly calmed by the effort Chris had made to avoid her. 

Clearing your throat, you found the courage to reply. 

“Oh, er, did you not have to keep filming?” Leaning against the door frame, you settled in for a longer conversation. 

“It wasn’t anything that I can’t just do another day when she isn’t there. I’ve got some scripts to read over anyway so it’s fine.” 

You sighed. This seemed like an appropriate time to bring up the unspoken topic so you could start moving forward but your anxiety felt crippling in that very moment, you didn’t know if you could face it. 

“Sweetheart..” Chris whispered, “Y/N, sit down, please..” 

You moved to sit down on the small sofa by the window, tucking your feet up and under yourself. Chris moved to join you, sitting fairly close but not touching you as you hadn’t crossed that boundary since he came home. 

“Look baby, I’ve been home a week now and we’ve just walked around this house like we are two strangers. I need you to talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking because you’re the one that told me you wanted me to come home?”

You looked up from your lap and straight into Chris’s eyes, “You do feel like a stranger to me.”

You heard his voice hitch in his throat, clearly caught off guard by your blunt answer. 

“I’m still me, sweetheart. I’m the same person you met seven years ago and I’m the same person you married four years ago. Please don’t think I’ve changed.” 

A lone tear falls straight from your eye, as you whimper, “I miss him.” 

It takes Chris no longer than a second to pull you into his lap, all boundaries obliterated, as he hugs you like his life depends on it. As you cry all you can hear is Chris repeatedly whispering, ‘I’m here. I’m still me. I love you.’ 

You shudder at the softened and sweet contact, something you hadn’t felt for weeks but you embraced it, leaning further into Chris’s chest for comfort. 

Once you had basked in the feeling for a bit longer, shutting the world and your problems out, you knew you had to move away. It would have been unfair to give Chris mixed signals as your marriage was still clearly on the rocks. 

Sitting back up on the sofa, you composed yourself. 

“I know you are still you Chris, but you’ve changed to me now. This you..”, you sigh before continuing, “..you’re tainted and untrustworthy, you’re the man that cheated on me, you’re not my husband. I need to get to know you again, and I need to learn to love our marriage again, and learn to trust you again. It’s going to take time.” 

“B-but you want to try?”

“Of course I want to try. Endgame right? That hasn’t changed for me but other things have to change, we cannot continue like this otherwise if something else were to happen, I don’t think we would survive it.” 

“I am infinitely yours sweetheart. Forever.” You watch Chris smile sweetly. 

Feeling slightly more confident and feeling like Chris has really been listening to you, you knew it was time to talk about her. 

“Okay, well whilst we are here, I think we should talk about her. It’s the biggest hurdle for me, and I can’t move past it. I just can’t deal with you seeing her right now, not whilst I’m learning to trust you again. I’ll never trust her so I need to 100% be able to trust you again.” 

Grabbing hold of your hand, Chris nods in understanding.

“That is completely fine sweetheart. For now, how about I just work my schedule around when she isn’t there and wait until you are comfortable before I finish filming my scenes with her? I don’t care if it postpones the film, or they replace me, you are more important to me than any film and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you!” 

You nod feebly, shocked and relieved with the instant commitment Chris was happy to make to save your marriage and earn your trust back. 

An awkward silence falls over the room at the monumental conversation you just had. Needing a moment to yourself, you decide to make a quick exit. 

‘Um, I think I’ll go and grab a shower before dinner.” Quickly leaving, you rush to your ensuite. 

The shower provided a solace to digest what just happened, a few tears falling as you feel overwhelmed. But you left the bathroom with a renewed sense of hope. 

It was another week of tough conversations and private marriage counselling before you felt you had reached another milestone in fixing your marriage. 

You were in the ensuite of your bedroom when Chris came in to say goodnight. He was merely wearing a pair of pyjamas bottoms that amusingly you were wearing the matching top of. 

He chuckled as he leant against the wall, “I was looking for that top.” 

You giggled lightly and blushed, using all your self control to not drool over seeing Chris topless. Unfortunately, you had never been good at hiding any of your emotions from Chris and you saw him smirk slightly at your flustered state. 

“Okay, well, I just came to say goodnight, so uh- night I guess..” 

You mumbled a goodnight back as Chris turned to walk out the room. A rush of affection from the interaction washed over you causing you to shout back towards Chris to catch his attention. 

“Um, stay..” 

You saw the startled look on his face as the words left your lips. 

“Stay with me tonight..”, you repeated as if you were confirming your own words. 

“Yeah, course I’ll stay, if that’s what you want?”, he shuffled back towards you. 

“It is what I want.” 

You smiled at him sweetly before you brushed past him and moved towards the bed, leaving him a bit stunned in the bathroom. 

Weeks passed with no problems. You and Chris had gone back to sleeping in the same bed and you often woke up snuggled together. At first, you’d wake and quickly move away from him however, slowly, you became comfortable with it and you were finally starting to feel at peace in his arms. 

You had woken up early this specific Monday morning as it was Chris’s first day back filming with her. You felt sick to the stomach at the thought of him seeing her again and had slept terribly. You knew this day would come and thought you would be, at least slightly prepared, but as the day dawned, you were scared. Nerves caged around your heart as your mind could only replay the moment Chris told you that he had kissed another woman.

Chris had to go back to work, you understood that. He had already put it off for a while and sacrificed enough of his job to try and reconcile your marriage. You almost felt obliged to let him go back to work, who were you to hold your husband back from his job? 

You were sitting in the kitchen, slowly nursing a very strong coffee when Chris came down, ready for his day. You glanced up at him briefly, barely acknowledging his words to you. 

“Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay? You’re up really early?” 

Glancing at the clock reading 7:30am, you shrugged and mumbled, “Woke up at 5:30am.”

You stared in the abyss, thoughts whirring through your mind. Thinking about being frightened to death about the thought that your marriage wasn’t even halfway back to where it should be. Knowing that Chris would see her today, spend all his time with her whilst you were waiting back at home for him. It felt like some sick and twisted de ja vu. 

It had been almost two months since you’d last been with Chris in any form of intimacy, almost four months since you were truly a happily married couple and now he was going to see her again, were you really debating that history would repeat itself? 

“Baby, will you talk to me? I can see something is on your mind”, Chris gently rests his hand over yours, bringing you out your nightmarish daydream. 

Looking up at Chris, taking in all his handsome features, you thought, how could anyone ever resist him. The thought panicked you even more.  

Learning from previous mistakes, you knew it was best to communicate to him how you were feeling. 

“I’m scared you’re going to see her again today and history could just repeat itself. Nothing is fixed yet Chris, and it feels like we are already going backwards.”

Just when you thought that being honest and communicating with Chris was the best option, it backfired in your face. Chris scoffed, a look of disgust on his face. 

“Huh, you’re not kidding?” Watching him run his hand through his hair, he turns away and slams his coffee mug down on the side. You jump at the aggressive action. 

“You really think I’d do that again? You really think that little of me? Have you not seen all the work I’ve put into this fucking marriage the past couple of months?”, he shrugs and turns back to you, “What else do you want from me Y/N?” 

You wince at his spiteful words. 

“I know you’ve put a lot into this marriage Chris, so have I! We’ve been doing really well, but can you really blame me for having doubts on your first day back with her? I thought you’d understand!” 

“No, I don’t blame you, but I thought you’d trust me more that this by now.” 

You chew on your lip nervously as you both stare at one another, terrified of the silence. 

“I’ve got to go to work Y/N, see you later.” You hear Chris huff before he walks straight out the house, leaving you sitting dumbfounded and anxious at your kitchen table. 

Trying to do any work from home was useless as you just felt panicked and couldn’t stop thinking about how Chris’s day was going. You hadn’t heard from him since this morning at it was now 6pm. 

After developing a painful stress headache, you decide to lay down in bed. Believing you can block the world out and briefly pretend that nothing is wrong in your marriage, you shut your eyes momentarily. 

FLASHBACK. 

Waking up so softly, you barely blink your eyes open as you feel tender kisses dancing their way up your back, following the line of your spine. You flutter your eyes open carefully, aware of the vibrant sunlight gracing your face as you try to focus your eyes, gradually making out the floor length curtains gently blowing through the breeze from your open balcony doors. You can hear the soft crashes of the waves and can see the soft, baby blue sky from your place on the bed as you stretch out all your limbs from an energetic night. You let yourself surrender to the feeling of Chris’s lips grazing against your bare body.

As he gradually makes his way up to your neck and cheek, you hum in utter happiness and contentment as he places one final kiss on your cheek as he leans over your body. You can feel every line and shape of his naked form as it presses up against you. You think about how you’ve never felt so happy and loved in this moment, knowing that this is exactly how you’ll get to feel for the rest of your life. 

“Good morning Mrs. Evans”, Chris roughly whispers, his voice hoarse from minimal sleep. He nibbles on your ear teasingly before grinding his core over your ass. You whimper at the feeling his movements evoke from you. 

“Mhm, I like how that sounds”, you mumble before smiling happily. The use of that name giving you butterflies. The one that now belongs to you, the name that now proves you belong to each other forever.

END OF FLASHBACK.

You wake with a start as you hear the front door slam slightly. You sit up too quickly, as you feel light-headed and your vision blurs slightly. You breath deeply, gaining your bearings before looking at the bedside clock. 7:30pm; you had slept right through dinner. 

Not that it mattered because you would have been eating alone anyway, you thought. 

Your body adjusts to being awake, your stomach fluttering slightly at the memories and feelings that the dream provoked. Momentarily caught in a fever dream. 

Back in reality, you brain registers that there was a slam at the door. Quickly, you get up and rush downstairs to see what is happening. 

As you halt at the bottom of the stairs and look out into the open plan room, you see Chris standing by the breakfast bar. The very same breakfast bar that holds so many recent heartbreaking conversations. But this time, it doesn’t bring you sadness. 

There Chris stands, holding takeout food in one hand and in the other, your favourite donuts. Behind him, on the wall, hangs the framed photo from your wedding day. Your matching smiles beaming on both your faces, almost as if they are lighting up the room.

You look back at him, standing here in your house. Bringing home dinner to you. Coming home to you. 

Your breath catches in your throat, “It’s you Chris, it’s always going to be you.”

You watch him place down the food on the side, before he begins striding towards you. Stuck in your spot, you can’t do anything but smile at your husband as he reaches you. 

“Forever yours”, you whisper before Chris’s lips crash onto yours for the first time in months. Your lips work together as your hands grip as his waist and his grasp your neck and face so you can’t move away. So you can only feel Chris, so you can truly remember the raw intimacy and passion between you. 

As your lips melt together, it feels as monumental as the moment he kissed you as you became his wife. It feels as if your story is beginning again; with a fresh start and a new-found hope for your marriage. 

 ♡

Forever Tags: @itsscottiesstark @patzammit @partypoison00 @cynic-spirit @n3ssm0nique @sohoseb @madbaddic7ed @moonlacebeam @ilovetheeagles  @beautifulrose0809 @lovelyladymayyy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mysticapples17 @whxre4cevans @firoozehmoon @spookyparadisesheep @mytbel0st @thatonelatina @snowy992 [Please drop me a message if you’d like to become part of the taglist for this series or any of my work]

[queenshelby]

The Last Semester – Part Two

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,331

Warning: Flirting, Fluff

***

After having traded spots with Emma, over the next two weeks, you worked on your new drama project with the other group. But this didn’t mean that you didn’t see Cillian. To the contrary. You saw him more often than you were comfortable with and your attraction towards him intensified every time you interacted with him.

Every morning, Cillian would get his coffee at the local coffee shop where you worked as many as four days per week. In addition, just like you, he would spend a lot of time at the nearby second-hand bookshop looking for random and interesting novels.

The small bookstore had a reading area upstairs which no one really knew about and, on a rainy Tuesday evening, you sat there for three hours, researching for one of your other literature units.

That day, Cillian had the same idea as you, evidentially bored on his own since temporarily moving to London for the drama project.

‘Interesting choice’ Cillian said as he saw you sitting in the reading area with a stack of books by Charles Dickens.

‘Oh yes, Dickens. He is making some good points which I can use for my literature project’ you explained.

‘And some random ones too’ Cillian chuckled, causing you to raise your eyebrows as if you were asking a question.

‘For example, he states that there is no greater gift than the love of a cat. I would question this statement’ Cillian laughed.

‘I am fairly sure it was a contextual question’ you chuckled.

‘Nah…I think he just likes cats’ Cillian then went on to say before sitting down next to you and asking you whether you wanted some help with your research.

You nodded in agreement and probably spent the next hour or so with Cillian in the small book store looking through Dicken’s many novels.

***

Then, the following day, when you came walking out of your bedroom, you couldn’t believe your eyes when Cillian stood in the kitchen with Emma.

That was two days in a row that you saw each other by chance. Clearly, he didn’t live far from campus either.

‘Oh…uhm…hi’ you said when you realised that he saw you, although deep down inside, you hoped that he didn’t as you were wearing nothing but an old grey t-shirt, cotton panties and a pair of bed socks. Your hair was messy and tied up in a bun and you wore your black framed reading glasses.

‘Hi Y/N’ Cillian said with a warm smile, unable to take his eyes of you, causing your cheeks to flush.

‘Cillian was nice enough to help me carry these upstairs as I ran into him on the street and one of the shopping bags broke’ Emma explained and Cillian was quick to advise her that he needed to leave as he had a call scheduled for 3pm.

‘See you’ you quickly said just as you stumbled back into your room and Cillian nodded, having a slight chuckle as you appeared rather clumsy.

‘Did you instigate this?’ Thomas then laughed and you couldn’t help but poke your head back out of your room, waiting for Emma’s response.

‘Maybe’ Emma then went on to giggle and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her. She clearly had a crush on Cillian and you certainly couldn’t have told her about why you wanted to change to the other group.

The truth was that you liked Cillian a lot and every day you saw him, you could feel butterflies in your stomach. But it wasn’t like a silly crush. Instead, it was an attraction not only on a physical but also intellectual level. He was funny, smart and you loved talking to him. There was something that distinguished him from guys your age and from other men you’ve met and this is what attracted you.

Every time he came into the coffee shop at which you worked and ordered his latte, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement, something you had never really felt around a man before. But then again, you knew this was pointless and inappropriate and you quickly realised that you shouldn’t waste your time and energy in pursuing anything with man who you barely knew and who was 20 years older than you. You knew you needed to steer clear from him, avoid him wherever you could.

***

Unfortunately for you, it was the Monday on the fourth week of the drama project that Aiden had called in sick for the week after having contracted food poisoning and it was Cillian who took over his project until Aiden’s return.

Instantly, when Cillian walked into the theatre room, your butterflies returned. But, at the same time, you were incredibly nervous. You really didn’t want to work with him again. It was the whole reason you changed groups, so you didn’t have to be around Cillian.

Luckily for you, in this group, you only played a minor part in the play and Cillian was focused on the other students who needed more help than you with the script.

However, following the three-hour program for the day, Cillian asked whether you could see him after class. There was something he wanted to give you for your research program.

You nodded shyly and, after everyone had left, followed him to the office he was assigned temporarily by the university.

‘This is for you’ Cillian grinned as he handed you a print out entitled ‘Dicken’s fascination with Cats’ and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Geez, are you still on about that?’ you asked as you realised that Cillian didn’t like to be wrong.

‘What can I say Y/N? It kept me up. I had to research it further’ Cillian laughed before handing you a second print out.

‘Oh common’ you laughed as he handed you a thirteen-page research paper on Dicken’s different cats.

‘Perhaps it is you who likes cats’ you then went on to say and Cillian confirmed that he does, in fact, have a ginger cat named Garfield back in Dublin.

‘Garfield? Now that is a creative name for a ginger cat’ you giggled just as Cillian pulled out his phone and showed you a picture.

‘Cute’ you giggled as you looked at the picture while leaning in closer, your arm brushing against Cillian’s arm gently.

Just as your skin lightly touched his, you could feel goose bumps raise all over your body and it was almost as if Cillian had noticed.

He cleared his throat and you startled, collecting your thoughts before telling him that you should probably get back home.

Cillian nodded but, just as you were about to walk out of the door of his office, he called after you.

‘Y/N?’ he asked and you turned around and looked at him while a short ‘yes’ escaped you.

‘Nothing, sorry’ he then went on to say, realising that, what he was about to ask you was highly inappropriate.

‘Alright, uhm, see you later’ you said just as your cheeks turned red instantly.

***

Later that evening, when you arrived at home, Emma had told you that she had a surprise planned for you.

‘I’ve organised a date for you. Tomorrow night. His name is Patrick, he is Irish and a little older than you. He works at the university hospital and he is taking you to see the game tomorrow, Ireland vs France’ Emma said with some excitement.

‘Emma, I am not going on a date with someone I don’t know’ you fussed but Emma was insistent.

‘You haven’t been with anyone for two years Y/N. Common. Despite we are having a party at the apartment and I know you hate frat parties. Just give him a chance’ Emma said and you immediately rolled your eyes.

‘Fine’ you huffed. ‘But I will meet him at the sports bar at 7 o’clock. He isn’t coming here’ you demanded and Emma nodded excitedly.

 Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​ @vhscillian​ @ysmmsy​ @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  ​

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@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

[lostinmirkwood]

White Christmas

My @gendrya-gift-exchange 2021 fic for the lovely @lumierelalune​! I used the column 2nd to the right (Coffee Shop AU/First Time/Mutual Pining/Coworkers/Miscommunication) for the fic bingo!

Read the first chapter, “Let It Snow” on AO3 here or under the cut! Happy Holidays!

Arya’s train north is leaving two days before Christmas, she knows she told her boss that. “I’m leaving town December 23rd and I’ll be back the 28th,” were her exact words. She’s not sure how Sharna heard, “I can work the closing shift on the 23rd, the one that starts an hour before my train pulls out of the station” but she did and now Arya is trying to get her shift covered or change her train ticket to the 24th and neither of those seem to be happening.

She’s gone down the list of people who can cover her shift but everyone else has left town already (Brea and Talea for Braavos the day after finals ended), is leaving town like she was supposed to (Lommy left for King's Landing early that morning and Alys left at noon to go back to the Reach), is sick (Jeyne came down with the flu and Willow is taking care of her), already worked the morning shift (Hot Pie), or is closing with her (Gendry, and there’s no way she’d leave him alone with the diners). Arya also can’t just quit and go home when she was supposed to. She likes this job. She doesn’t need this job, she recognizes the privilege in that, but she enjoys it and it keeps things interesting at the otherwise quiet Riverlands University. Besides, her parents were always going on about responsibility and she had a responsibility to the Crossroads Cafe. So she sighs and abandons her attempts to get her shift covered, glares at her half packed duffel bag and calls the rail ticket office instead.

“You’ve reached the North Line Ticketing Office. We are currently experiencing higher than average call volume, the estimated wait time is 20 minutes. Your call may be monitored for quality assurance.”

Great. Her shift starts in half an hour and it’s starting to snow. She turns her phone on speaker to let the tinny Christmas music play, interspersed with ads, mentions of using the North Line website, like she’d be calling them if their website had worked, and occasional updates to her place in the queue. Arya continues to throw things into her bag haphazardly until her phone rings through and a very frazzled voice says, “North Line Ticketing, this is Ros. How can I help you?”

Arya scrambles to pick up her phone, nearly sending it sliding off her desk and into her wastebasket in her haste, “Hi! I need to change my ticket from the 3pm Riverrun to Winterfell Station from today to tomorrow. If there’s a different time with an open seat I’ll take it. Arya Stark, ticket number 157935C”

There’s a pause and Arya can hear a keyboard clacking, “I’m sorry ma’am but all trains north between 6am and 3pm tomorrow are full. I can book you on the 5pm train, it will get into Winterfell at 2am and does carry on to The Wall if you need to go points further north, but I’d keep a close eye on the weather, with this storm coming in we’re not sure if the afternoon trains are going to be able to run.”

Arya glances out the window at the snow that’s now beginning to fall slightly harder, “I’ll take the 5pm and keep my fingers crossed. Thank you.”

“I’ve got you booked on the 5pm Ms. Stark. Good luck and happy holidays.”

“Yeah, you too.” Arya hangs up the phone. She now has seven minutes to get to the cafe for her closing shift. Normally she’d walk but waiting on hold and trying to finish packing her bag had taken up too much of her time so she’ll have to drive. And find time to call her family and tell them she’ll be getting in much later than anticipated, if at all. Grabbing her keys from their hook near the door, Arya races down the stairs and out to her little car parked on the street in front of her apartment. It grumbles slightly before sputtering to life, shaking slightly as a gust of wind makes the snowflakes dance across her windshield.

Five and a half minutes later Arya stomps her way in through the back door of the Crossroads, knocking slush from her boots. She tosses her coat onto a rickety chair and grabs an apron off a hook, looping the strings around her waist multiple times as she walks out to the floor. Gendry is already there, glaring at the POS system and Arya pauses for half a second like she always does when she sees him for the first time every day. He’s lit by the glow of the street lamp through the cafe window and the twinkle lights Sharna’s put up for the holidays. His dark, messy hair shines, the sharp cut of his jaw is shadowed by stubble and she can’t quite see his vibrant blue eyes that cause her heart to skip a beat when he turns the full force of his gaze on to her but she’s had their color memorized since the first day she started working with him. It’s fine, she’s managed her little crush on him for the last year and a half. It doesn’t interfere with work. She just has to make sure she doesn’t drool when she watches him pick up large trays of food that would take her multiple trips to deliver and that she doesn’t think about making his hair even messier when she’s on the clock. Those are off the clock thoughts that she tries very hard not to have because then she blushes when she looks at him and she’s been standing here for a moment too long because now he’s looking right at her like she’s a crazy person while she’s frozen, staring at him with her apron strings still in her hand. Shit.

Arya clears her throat and finishes tying her apron. She turns away from him to get herself under control under the pretext of checking the dining area. It’s completely empty.

“Thought you were headed north?” Gendry’s voice rumbles from across the counter.

Arya sighs and turns back to him. It’s going to be a long night, “I was. My train is leaving in an hour but Sharna put me on the schedule to close and I couldn’t get it covered, so here I am. I was able to change my ticket to tomorrow evening, though.”

Gendry looks out the window at the falling snow. The wind has picked up and it swirls around the sidewalk, “It’s supposed to storm for two days.”

That’s Gendry, succinct. Arya uses five words when one will suffice. She probably drives him crazy with how much she talks, “Yeah, the ticket gal said she didn’t know if the trains will get out tomorrow but she changed my ticket for me anyway. Do you mind if I step out and call my folks and let them know? I was on hold with the train line for so long I didn’t have time to call them before I had to leave to make it here in time.”

Gendry looks around the empty cafe, “I dunno, it’s pretty busy… I might have to talk to someone if you step out.”

Arya grins at him, “I think you will survive, it will be a short conversation, I just need to let them know my new arrival time.”

Gendry smiles, just slightly, back at her, “No conversation is short with you, Stark.”

Arya tries to rein in the flutter in her stomach. Gendry rarely smiles at other people but always seems to have one for her when he’s giving her a hard time. She doesn’t want to think it makes her feel special but it does, just a little bit. She spins on her heel and steps back into the back room, fishing her phone out of her jeans as she goes. She dials the house phone, hoping someone will pick up there and can spread the word so she won’t have to play Asshai roulette to try and get a hold of just one person she’s related to in Winterfell.

“Hello? Stark Residence.”

“Dad! It’s me,” helpful that her dad picked up the phone, since it will probably be him picking her up at the train station early in the morning anyway. Rickon would have taken a message and then forgotten half of it and she wasn’t in the mood for a game of Stark Family Telephone if it was going to end with her stranded at the Winterfell Train station at 2am Christmas morning.

“Sweetling! Are you on your way home? The train just left Riverrun, yes?”

“About that… Sharna mistakenly put me on the schedule to close tonight and I tried to get my shift covered but wasn’t able to and I can’t just leave them high and dry. North Line was able to get me on the 5pm train tomorrow but they’re not sure if the trains will be running with the storm. I’ll let you know. If I can get out on the new train I’ll get in at 2am on the 25th, otherwise I might be stuck here over Christmas.”

“Hmmm… Let’s hope that doesn’t happen, your mother and I love when you’re all here for Christmas. Thank you for calling, sweetling. Keep us posted. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” Arya hangs up the phone and heads back out to the counter. Gendry is leaned over his order pad doodling something as she approaches, but quickly flips to a new page as she slides onto a stool across from him.

He glances at her, “Everything good at the castle?”

Arya sighs, “Not a castle,” she knows he knows it’s not a castle, he just likes to call it that, “and yeah, everyone’s probably already home. Someone will have to draw the short straw to pick me up at the station at 2am but there’s plenty of us to go around. What about you? Any plans for Christmas? Siblings to spend time with? Do you have siblings? I’ve never asked.”

Gendry’s jaw tightens slightly and Arya wants to… do something inappropriate about it.

“No,” is all he says.

“No? No, what? No plans? No siblings?” Arya presses.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious? I mean, we’re so busy I figured I’d make that table wait to take their order. That woman’s just awful,” Arya gestures at a large table in the empty cafe.

Gendry sighs, “Yeah, she looks terrible. A real Cersei. No. No plans. I have siblings but it’s complicated.”

Arya raises an eyebrow at him, “Complicated how?”

He gives her a long look before sighing again and pouring them both a cup of coffee from the carafe next to him. He adds a dash of cream to one and slides it to her, along with a sugar packet and a spoon. She’s a little surprised he knows how she takes her coffee.

“Complicated in that I have at least four half siblings who I had no idea about until a few years ago because my bio-dad was a lecherous bastard who couldn’t keep it in his pants and we all found out about it because he died.” It’s the most words Arya has ever heard Gendry speak in one go and he looks uncomfortable at having said so much, “Also, my mum passed when I was a kid so I stay here for Christmas. Jeyne, Willow, Hot Pie, and I usually order Yi-Ti takeout and watch action movies.”

“Well that sounds fun. Are you still going to do that this year?”

Gendry shrugs, grabbing a rag off the counter and beginning to wipe down the already clean surface, “Depends on how Jeyne is feeling. Willow told Hot Pie to bring her some soup when he left.”

The bell tinkles over the door as a small family is blown in for dinner, breaking up their conversation while Gendry busies himself at the register and Arya takes care of the table. She hums along with the Christmas music quietly playing over the speakers as she dishes soup and toasts sandwiches for them. When they leave with a “Merry Christmas!” Arya pulls her phone out and glances at her weather app. The winter storm warning is set to last through midnight of the 24th, with blowing and drifting snow in the Riverlands all the way north to The Neck. A quick glance at Winterfell tells her the storm would roll through there over Christmas before dissipating somewhere past The Wall. There’s a notification from the North Line telling her all trains north have been cancelled for the next three days due to weather. It is going to be a White Christmas everywhere this year and Arya can stop holding her breath about making it home in time for Christmas. With a sinking heart she sends a screenshot of the cancellation notice to her family, tucks her phone back into her pocket and goes to clear the table.

[omegasmileyface]

Not in the Job Description

heres a silly lil Danny Phantom concept based entirely off a half-awake sleep-vision that made me laugh :) my subconscious brain is a genius at coming up with things that make just enough sense to be worth writing

summary: Danny's job at a local restaurant is surprisingly fulfilling, even after being crowned Ghost King. Speaking of that job, however, there are some intricacies to it that are hard to keep in mind during everyday life.

warnings: descriptions of nausea and mild sickness

words: 2180

AO3 link

===

Honestly, life was going pretty well at the moment for Danny Fenton. He wasn't even worried that it was a false security or a calm before a storm, because this kind of semi-serenity had been going on for more than a year. It was a long-term stability brought about by adaptation and putting in effort to get help and accommodation. Jazz would be proud!

Sometime at the beginning of Junior year, the Observants had chased him down and crowned him High Ghost King (much to the chagrin of both involved parties). It certainly added responsibility to Danny's plate, along with some new sensations and a series of crises (what didn't these days?), but a little political discussion with some of the more powerful ghosts ended with Danny deciding that, at least at the moment, the position didn't require him to do much more than he normally did. More ghosts would seek him out for help and he would do his best, and some "paperwork" (though there was very little paper involved and it was a lot of talking and oaths and rituals and such) happened about monthly. Otherwise, though, the Zone didn't need much more help than that, having survived off an absent King for centuries. Well, and the ambient purpose of the King as a sort of core for the Zone, but Danny didn't have to put in time or conscious effort for that.

Eventually that settled into normalcy, and Danny was back to worrying about the balance of schoolwork, self-care, and fighting. He still hadn't given up on the prospect of someday becoming an astronaut, and he was determined to have the grades for it. Don't get him wrong, he'd gotten way better about that! He'd formed a practiced, if not entirely stable, system that kept his grades at a solid B- / C+, while getting a solid 5-ish hours of sleep most nights and not bottling things up too much. It was about halfway through Junior year that he realized, with some help from his friends, that his ghosts fights were honestly pretty civil, at least against the regulars. Civil enough that he knew they had some respect for him, and was willing to risk asking for help. So a few weeks and awkward but not bad conversations later, and he had agreements with almost all his regular "foes" not to cause trouble within Amity from 11pm to 7am, 3pm on weekdays. It was more than half the day off-limits on school days, and plenty of ghosts made up for it to a degree by making themselves more common during the "permitted" hours, but it greatly increased Danny's well-being and school performance anyway. "Rivals" like Skulker and Technus had enough respect for Danny and his Lair to abide, and plenty even cared that he was taking care of himself, even between frequent sparring. Maybe a few were really just in fear of his new crown, but he chose to cautiously pretend that wasn't a possibility.

After graduation — he made Senior year with all As and Bs! — Danny's parents had encouraged him to get a part-time job over the summer. He had been interning at FentonWorks (paid! His parents might not be the most attentive but they certainly weren't unfair) since he had accidentally revealed himself a few years back, and they had been thrilled to hear that he still intended to go into NASA if possible, and had done whatever they could to help. They recommended the job because, as good as a paid scientific internship was on a resume, it would help to have a variety of activity and the opportunity to get recommendations from employers who weren't liable to nepotism. After searching local businesses, Danny found a small sandwich shop founded by a middle-aged couple who had moved in and set up shop just before the ghost attacks began. Being close to the school but not far from the commercial sector and offering small portable food (no one wants to sit down for a meal when a spirit could come crashing through the window at any moment), the place got good enough business to pay the employees a proper living wage. Better yet, they were allowed to take home unsold food! Not to mention the owners were both very kind women who held smiling conversation with employees and customers alike. Danny was more than lucky to land such a nice job, even if it meant he had to get up at 7 five days a week.

All this is to say that it wasn't as surprising as it could have been that he was having a slow and pleasant day at work.

Both the owners were out for the day on some sort of vacation, so today it was just Danny and a short teenager named Casey manning the place. Most of their orders recently had been online due to an explosion causing road work near the restaurant and it was mid-morning, leaving work slow enough that they could afford to just have the two until lunch shift started. Danny was on cashier duty today, but unless the door bell sounded, he was helping Casey in the kitchen.

"Aw, man, we're almost out of tomatoes."

"Really?" Casey looked up to the shelf Danny was inspecting and indeed saw only 3 tomatoes. "Huh, guess they didn't restock yesterday. Well, we probably shouldn't risk needing more before the day's out, do you want me to go get more?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah, I can go. I think I could use the fresh air." He said that a lot, especially as an excuse when his ghost sense went off, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. He never had liked being confined.

Casey checked the monitor to see if they'd gotten any new online orders. Since there was a grocery store just a block away, any time someone needed a quick restock they tended to just walk.

They looked up to see Danny already had his jacket on and was looking them in the eye. "Would you take over my position until I come back?"

"Of course. Ten minutes?"

With a nod and a smile, Danny was out the back door.

===

After a moment of habitually wiping down the counters, Casey went up to the register in case a customer appeared.

It was even quieter than before for a few minutes, so they busied themself with mini restocks and organization. They were in the middle of stacking some paper coffee cups when they started to feel dizzy. There had been this subtle pressure on their chest since Danny left, which they figured was anxiety for working the restaurant alone for the first time, and now it had solidified into a warm nausea that flared whenever they exhaled.

With the disinterested panic that came from having strange things happen for years, they wondered if they had missed their medication this morning. A quick glance at their phone, however, showed the notification for it checked off.

Putting the phone back away, Casey noticed the tips of their fingers were somewhat translucent. Alright then, it was definitely something to do with ghosts. Great! Just excellent. The panic was less disinterested this time.

They weren't familiar with any sort of ghost illness that made humans translucent, so they definitely needed to call someone to make sure nothing bad happened. It would be best to call the Fentons' public number so they could go over and get looked over by then. In the meantime, they should call Danny and ask him to hurry back. He shouldn't be much longer anyway.

Casey didn't even get the chance to act on their plan, however, before a short humanoid ghost appeared in the dining area. They didn't look to be up to anything, but Casey reached for the emergency ectoblaster beneath the register anyway. The nausea was getting worse, along with a new chill, and they couldn't be sure this new ghost wasn't somehow causing whatever they were going through.

The ghost looked at them with an expression that was almost desperate. "Ah! Kind human, thank you for your time." The ghost... bowed? "I am Eurusid, from the Spoken Channels. There has been a dispute which damaged public meeting grounds in the center of the Channels, and both groups refuse to allow the damage to be repaired except by the other group."

Casey's eyes narrowed. It was becoming difficult to stand with the dizziness, and if not the ghost himself, then whatever he was saying was probably a hallucination. They didn't even think about responding beyond a detached "what".

It was then that Danny re-entered the back door with the new tomatoes. Good thing, too. At least with another person there, Casey could confirm whether they were hallucinating.

===

Placing down the grocery bag and shrugging off his jacket in one motion, a skill only gained by years of laziness efficiency, Danny called toward the register. "Back!"

Once he caught sight of the teen, however, all casualness shed itself from his body and he rushed over to hold them. "Man, Casey, you feeling alright? You look really pale." The realization that their form was slightly translucent, despite the firm human heartbeat beneath, was drowned out by him finally noticing the ghost standing a few feet away. The reaction of his ghost sense had been so minor that he had ignored it.

He was surprised to see that he recognized the specter's face, marred as it may have been from worry and confusion aimed directly at Casey. "Eurusid? What's going on?"

As the ghost, still confused but unwilling to act impolitely, gathered his bearings and began to bow toward him, Danny's coworker shuddered under his hands, regaining his full attention. He thought back through the day's events for hints as to the situation, before swearing, cutting off whatever Eurusid was about to say.

Danny backed up and said, voice as clear as he could, "I recall my position."

Casey's reaction was immediate, a gasp of air like they had been kept from breathing and a return of their skin's human opacity. Danny rushed back over and put his hand on their back to steady them as their eyes narrowed and went slightly unfocused.

Figures, doesn't it? One of the many intricacies that had come up at his coronation Junior year that just hadn't come up enough to keep at the front of his mind. One of the defenses of the High Ghost Crown was the ability of the King to temporarily give their duty to someone else. As long as that person accepts, during a specified time they substitute for the King in dealing with political matters, as well as taking over as much as their ability allowed of the King's function to process the energy of the Realms.

Danny had no idea that this ability could be activated with words as vague as "take over my position", let alone that it could be used with a human. That potential had never come up during the ceremony, so for all he knew, a full ghost in his position couldn't substitute with a human. A human certainly shouldn't be able to take over any part of the energy processing, though maybe in Amity Park the average person processed enough environmental ectoplasmic energy to make it possible. Regardless of residence, though, it could not be good for Casey's body, which had no Core to properly process energy and had no human equivalent except perhaps a small emotional center in the brain, to even attempt to filter and manage some of the inherent energy of a dimension.

Their skin was still clammy and their coordination was shot. Ancients, if this is what an accidental substitution did to a human, Danny would have to word things very carefully when asking for help in the future.

"King Phantom?" Danny looked up to see that Eurusid was still floating there awkwardly. Right. He had two people here to help.

"Sorry, Eurusid. One moment, I'll be right with you." He turned back to his coworker, who looked confused and less lucid than ideal, but probably still lucid enough to realize this ghost had just called him "King Phantom". Well, he'd deal with that once it came to it. "Here, Casey, let's get you some water." He helped them walk back into the kitchen and sat them down on a bench by the back door. There was a chair in the register area, but they probably didn't want to feel exposed to the dining area like that, even with nobody but the ghost there.

Once handed the water, Casey sighed and eagerly drank from it, eyes closed. Danny rubbed his hand on their back a bit and promised to be back shortly before walking back out to meet Eurusid. Whatever he was here about was probably worth immediate attention but Danny was sure there'd be at least a solid minute of apologies on both sides before the matter was addressed. Hopefully both the Spoken Channels and Casey would be alright before the next shift came in.

[redrobin-detective]

Delayed Mourning

Going Angst Day 5: Death

_________________________________________

It was 3pm when there was a knock on Maddie Fenton’s door. She huffed and set down the meal she’d been working on. Of course the one day she had time to pre-plan a nice meal from her family was the day she’d get interrupted. 

“Yes? May I help you?” Maddie asked, opening the door. She had expected a salesman. Possibly even a neighbor coming to complain, again, about the noise or the smells that came from Fentonworks. Instead she found a small woman who couldn’t have been much taller than 5 ft with dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun. She was wearing a sharp white shirt and suit jacket with a matching white skirt.

“Mrs. Fenton, hello,” the woman gave a polite little head nod. “I’m from the the Government Institute of Interdimensional Warfare though I hear the locals like to call us the Guys in White.” She said with a knowing smiling, “of course, as you know, it’s not only the guys who are interested in ghosts. May I come in?”

“Oh yes, hello,” Maddie blinked, opening the door to let the agent in. The petite woman stepped inside, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her small frame, her oversized glasses and soft nature seemed so at odds with the meatheads Maddie usually found in the GIW. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Perhaps,” the agent demurred. “It’s more there was something I wanted to inform you of. If you’re not too busy, may we sit down and talk? Your husband and children are not home.” Maddie thought that last statement was a bit odd, framed as a statement of fact rather than an inquiry but moved on. 

“Yes, Jack’s out of town visiting a relative and my kids won’t be back for a little while,” Maddie said. “Let me just finish putting this roast together, I’m almost done. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” The woman said quietly. “And please, continue while you’re doing. Let me give you a little bit of background.” The agent adjusted her large glasses with her tiny hands. “Let me introduce myself, you may call me Agent S. I work primarily out of Washington for the Institute but sometimes I am deployed on site for... special cases. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, your town is very special.”

“Now, as you may have noticed, I am not particularly built like the normal Institute agents you have probably come across. That is because I do not work in the field but behind the scene in Investigations. My job is study the history and happenings of hauntings and spectral entities.”

“Oh that sounds fascinating,” Maddie beamed as she finished with her final preps and put the roast in the over. She looked over her shoulder at Agent S while she washed her hands. “Jack and I dabble a bit in history and folklore but we’re more versed in the hard sciences of ghosts.”

“Yes, I’ve read some of your papers, you and your husband truly are the frontrunners in the field,” Agent S nodded. Maddie preened at the praise and sat down, delighted to have a sophisticated conversation with someone in her field who she wasn’t married to. If more of those GIW agents were like Agent S then Maddie would get along a lot better with them. “So, Maddie, may I call you Maddie? What date and time did your portal start working?”

“It was August 28th,” Maddie said proudly. “It didn’t work at first when we first plugged it in. I’m afraid I don’t have an exact time it started up as we weren’t here. Jack was convinced one of the electrical conduction pieces wasn’t fully connected and was preventing ectoplasmic distribution. We ended up driving 4 hours to Springfield and back for some specialty parts only to find the portal working when we returned.”

“I can help you there,” Agent S said with a soft smile reaching into her white briefcase and pulling out several thick folders. She laid them out gently on the table and Maddie was unnerved by some of the information: schematics of Fentonworks, past and present financial records, transcripts of public statements. Her shoulders tensed when she saw Jazz and Danny’s names on some of the files. “Toll camera captured your vehicle on the Jane Addams Memorial Tollway at exactly 1:26pm on August 28th. We can confirm you and your husband’s vehicle traveled to Springfield and back via video feeds and credit card statements at 10:45pm that same day and were therefore out of the city all day.”

Maddie suddenly felt very trapped by the woman’s sharp grey eyes as she plucked a piece of paper and pressed it towards Maddie. 

“At 3:18pm, the majority of the residential power in town went out for a period of 2 and a half hours. The cause was determined to be from a massive power surge that blew out the transformer. You may recall being blamed for this outage given your history with previous outages but the news that you were out of town settled that argument. However, I was not convinced.” She pulled out another piece of paper and Maddie bristled to see it was a Casper High attendance sheet.

“Your daughter, Jasmine was at her final summer cram session which ran from 2pm until 5pm. I spoke to her tutors and she never left the whole time and, in fact, stayed late to help a fellow student work through her study materials. But what about your son?” Agent S asked with with a curious smile but her eyes belied the fact that she had her own answers. 

“How dare you spy on my family, on my children,” Maddie hissed, crumpling one of the papers in her fist. “Get out of my house, I will sue the pants off of your organization for this invasion of privacy! Get out!”

“Now Maddie, don’t you want to know how your son started up your Portal?” Agent S asked coyly, that drew Maddie up short. Danny? No, he couldn’t have possibly. He had no interest in their work, in fact, now that she thought about it, Danny had been sick that day. Agent S pulled out a set of blueprints for the Fenton Portal. Some small component inside the Portal was circled.

“You left at approximately 1pm and your daughter presumably left not long after. Phone records indicate Daniel called both Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. Your neighbor, Mrs. Benson, saw them coming into your house not long after but before the 3pm power outage which I was able to triangulate did in fact originate from your home.” Agent S tapped the circled part of the inner portal mechanisms. “Now did you happen to push the on button in the Portal before plugging it in?”

“On button?” Maddie asked with a dry mouth, overwhelmed by the amount of information being thrown her way. All she could think about was how Danny hadn’t seemed sick when they’d left that afternoon but had looked awful when they returned. Would he have really gone downstairs and messed with the Portal? Had he gotten hurt? Been contaminated down there? Images of Vlad’s sickly visage after his accident flowed through her head. She should have paid more attention but she’d been so excited about the Portal working...

“It’s right here in the blueprints you submitted to the patent office, buried under dozens of other hardware bits. Its small, such a little thing compared to all the moving parts required to open up a dimensional portal. Daniel was a bright boy, his middle school records prove it. A bright mind, friends to impress, no parents around to chastise him... I think you can see where I’m going with this.”

“No, no,” Maddie said, burying her hands in her hair. “No, I’m not. You’re saying -what? - that my teenage son turned on the Portal when we were gone? No, my Danny wouldn’t lie to me about that... Why wouldn’t he say anything?”

“I don’t blame him for not mentioned in because, if my hunch is correct, he was inside the Portal when it turned on, killing him instantly,” Agent S said with a carefully neutral face. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid this haunting has gone on long enough.”

“My child is alive!” Maddie screeched, standing up in her chair. “Danny is alive and healthy and he is not a ghost!”

“I will admit the evidence of how he died is circumstantial but the fact that Danny Fenton is deceased is not.” Maddie fell back into her chair as he legs gave out underneath her. 

She watched the agent put paper after paper in front of her and detailed all sorts of data about her son that Maddie, who lived in the same house as him, had missed. Unusually high ectosignatures picked up by GIW (and their own) detectors, Danny being spotted in some form before most ghost attacks, faked signatures of hers getting him out of nurses’ visits. Maddie barely felt alive herself as she stared at a red light camera photo of her baby sitting atop a light post late, late at night. His eyes were a toxic green color.

“I know this must be distressing as a mother but your child never left that basement, never attended high school and will never achieve his dream of working for NASA.” Agent S said with carefully measured sympathy as she gathered up her papers and put them back in her case. “But you are a brilliant scientist, unlike your husband, you should be able to look past your emotions and see that your child is gone and the ghost he left behind is dangerous.”

“My husband?” Maddie asked blankly, running a finger down Danny’s unnatural photograph.

“I approached Jack two days ago, mistakenly believing he would be the most understanding of you both. He refused to believe the evidence and was, in fact, going to warn your son’s ghost that we planned on taking him. He is safe but he presently being held at one of our facilities until the capture is complete.” Maddie should feel outraged at her husband’s kidnapping but all she could think about was the fact that her son was dead, dead, dead, killed by her own invention over a year ago and she never noticed. How could she not have noticed?

“Daniel’s ghost is extraordinary, not only able to pass as human so accurately for so long but immensely powerful. We need to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone else. Think of his friends who are probably being forced to aid him and keep his death quiet. Think of your husband, your daughter, living in the same house as a dangerous ghost.” Agent S dropped some of her professionalism and plucked the photo of Danny out of Maddie’s hands and replaced it with her own tiny hand. 

“I know this is impossible thing to ask but I must do it anyway, will you help me capture what remains of Danny? There is a chance with his charade exposed, he will be able to move on and so will you. You have been wronged, Maddie. You have been denied the right to process and grieve your child by his own ghost. But a delayed mourning is better than none. Danny’s death is a tragedy but please don’t let it become someone else’s.”

“Maybe he’s not-” Maddie’s breath hitched, “he’s never shown any signs of aggression. Jasmine spoke of benevolent spirits... maybe-” Agent S sighed roughly and retracted her hand to grab another photo from her case. Maddie was surprised when she held up a picture of Phantom. 

“Ignore the glow,” Agent S instructed. “Change his white hair to black, his green eyes to blue. Think of how often Phantom is spotted in your neighborhood, around Casper High. Remember how he always has his hands on your technology,” the agent frowned. “Think of how he grins when he sees you, like he knows something you don’t. Like it all just a big joke you’re not a part of.” Maddie felt like she’d been slapped.

“Your son is dead,” Agent S said more forcefully, throwing the picture of Phantom next to the spooky one of Danny. “And his ghost has taken his place, taunting you, stealing energy from your family, from the portal that killed him. Phantom’s power is increasing too rapidly and soon we won’t be able to contain him. It’s why I was brought in to identify his haunt so that he could be stopped before anyone else died.”

“I will state this plainly, I am giving you the chance to participate in putting your child to rest but you are not required for this operation. If you refuse, you will be confined with your husband until Phantom is taken down. Do not let this monster with your son’s face trick you any more. So I ask again, Maddie Fenton, will you help us stop Phantom from making a mockery of your son’s memory?”

XxX

“Mom! Jazz! I’m home!” Danny announced, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a paper out of his backpack as he walked into the kitchen with a grin. “And I have a present! Jazz’s tutoring paid off, look at this A I got on my history test! Well A- but a solid A-!” 

“Oh... that’s great,” Mom muttered quietly. She was sitting at the kitchen table, not cooking or tinkering with some gadget. Just sitting there quietly, twiddling her thumbs and not looking at him.

“Is everyone okay?” Danny asked, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to his mother. “I saw Jazz at school but is Dad okay?”

“No, everything is not okay,” she said turning and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “Someone died, someone I love dearly and I’m not ready to let them go,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “But they've been gone for a long time, even if I’m just hearing about it now. I’m upset but it’s better to know and be grieve than to go on in ignorance, living a lie.”

Danny was about to ask who had died when something was jammed into his neck and he was shocked within an inch of his half life. His body spasmed to escape but his mother was gripping his arm to hold him in place. He transformed unconsciously but that only made it worse. He fell to the floor, ectoplasm leaking off his form as he could barely hold himself together.

“Mom,” he croaked, reaching for her despite everything. She stomped on his hand which was practically goo from such a vicious, destabilizing ectoplasmic shock.

“Don’t you ever call me that,” she hissed through angry tears. “I didn’t want to believe it but the proof is right in front of me you horrible, selfish ghost.” She kicked him in the side and half of him ended up on her boot. “How dare you, how dare you impersonate my son! How dare you string me along all this time, make me look like a fool who had to told that her own child was dead! I bet you just laughed and laughed at our stupid, human ignorance of what your were!”

“‘lease,” he begged through the ectoplasm in his mouth. “I’m still your....”

“My son is dead and he has been for a while,” Mom said, throwing the ecto-taser away from her. Danny vaguely heard the door being kicked in and in his rapidly diminishing vision, he saw black boots and white suits. “With you gone, I can finally come to terms with it and not be tormented by an inadequate replacement.” She turned her back to him. “Get that filth out of my house, I never want to see it again.”

“Of course,” a quiet feminine voice said as his goopy arms were restrained with ghost proof cuffs. “I know this is hard, Maddie but you made the right choice for your family and Danny’s memory. Jack will returned to you within the hour. I spoke to my superiors, for your cooperation, the Institute will take care of declaring Danny dead as well as covering costs for your boy to be laid to rest, the first step in moving on.”

“No, the first step will be removing that duplicitous monster from my home. It’s stolen enough of my baby’s life. Now please leave, I have - I have a funeral to plan.”

[abused-sides]

Hungry [dead dove: do not eat]

    Trigger warning: someone dies from a food allergy and it’s VERY graphic, it’s an unsympathetic character. This is also written from someone who has a ton of severe food allergies, including the one that’s used, so it’s not some random asshole making light of a situation. Abusive relationships, death, murder, unsympathetic character is murdered

note: please read the trigger warnings and do not fucking read if it’ll bother/trigger you, this is the last warning

    xxx 

    Every morning, Janus ran out to buy him and Remus coffees while Remus stayed behind and burnt their breakfast. 

    Logan woke up to the smoke detector screaming and the rest of their roommates groaning while Roman frantically waved a blanket and snapped at his brother (Janus still smiled when he came home). It was as good of an alarm clock as any. 

    Every morning, Logan scraped together breakfast for a boyfriend he didn’t love. 

    Remus and Janus’ voices carried over from the living room as they ate on the couch. Logan used the burnt remnants of their stove to make bacon and eggs, something he could cook in his sleep. He wasn’t sleeping, though—He was focused on Remus and Janus. 

    “So,” Remus stole a piece of bacon and talked with his mouth full, “when’s the oaf getting up?” 

    Janus sipped at his coffee. “Obligatory defensive comment incoming,” he murmured, and Remus wrapped an arm around his waist. 

    “Don’t make fun of him,” Logan announced. 

    As much as Patton begged everyone to get along, Remus was never one to hide how he felt. Neither was Jaxon. 

    “You know he doesn’t do it on purpose, and you know he’ll be down here any second,” he whispered, and bumped Remus with his hip, who laughed. “Get out of here!” 

    Remus finished the bacon and said, “I gotta get to work anyway.” 

    That didn’t stop him from making out with Janus a good few minutes before leaving. 

    Jaxon stumbled into the kitchen sleepily. 

    “Morning, J,” Logan said quietly. 

    He hated Jaxon’s first appearance—he was too tired for Logan to tell what type of mood he was in. He used to stay quiet until he knew for sure, but Jaxon snapped at him once and said, “When you don’t say good morning, it feels like you’re mad at me or you don’t care about me.”

    Logan always said good morning now.

    Jaxon ignored him, took his plate, and went back upstairs. Logan relaxed. 

    “Just let me know when you want me to kill him for you,” Janus sneered, then ducked into his and Remus’ room. 

    Roman left for work next, singing on his way out, followed by Patton, who kissed Logan’s cheek and told him to stay safe. Virgil worked nights and didn’t wake until well after 3pm. Janus used noise-cancelling headphones while he worked. As much as Logan tried, he couldn’t get a shift today. He was essentially alone with Jaxon. 

    His stomach churned. 

    He went to his computer. 

    It didn’t take long for Jaxon to come back downstairs. He wrapped his arms around Logan’s shoulders and nuzzled into his neck. 

    “What’s going on?” Jaxon asked. “You’re tense.” 

    Logan’s shoulders relaxed. “I just have a lot of work to do.” 

    “So? Take a break. Come hang out with me.” 

    “Jaxon…” Logan frowned at the screen. “I have a deadline.” 

    Jaxon yanked his arms back. “Are you mad at me or something?” 

    Logan looked over his shoulder. “What? No. Why would I be mad?” 

    He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, brown eyes hard. “Because you haven’t hung out with me all week. I never see you anymore.” 

    “I work right here in the living room because you wanted to see me more,” Logan insisted. “And we watched three movies last night. We can watch three more tonight.” 

    “Well I don’t wanna force you.”

    Janus’ door creaked open. “That’s exactly what you want to do. Can you two quiet down?” 

    “Come with me,” Jaxon growled under his breath and grabbed Logan’s wrist. 

    Logan stumbled after him. 

    “HEY!” Janus stormed forward and grabbed Logan’s other wrist. “He has a deadline. He needs to work. Have you no manners?” 

    “Sorry, princess, I wasn’t raised in a castle.” Jaxon yanked Logan hard enough for his shoulder to ache. 

    “You’re hurting me,” he said desperately. 

    “Let go of him.” Janus’ eyes were deadly slits. His teeth were fangs, his grip of a Boa. 

    Logan pulled—he’d get punished for that later—until Jaxon let go and he stumbled back into Janus’ arms. Janus quickly righted him then took his hands away. Logan shivered. 

    “We’ll talk about this later,” Jaxon mumbled, “when the snake isn’t around.” 

    He turned and stomped up the stairs. The door slammed, and Logan flinched. 

    “I’m sorry,” he spouted as he turned to Janus. “I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.” 

    “Don’t worry about it.” 

    “And what he said—” 

    “I am a snake. It’s great. Is your wrist okay?” 

    Logan held it up. The skin was clear, but a bruise would surely show. “It’s fine. He almost…” He forced a laugh, “almost dislocated my shoulder, though.” 

    “Let me take a look at it. Sit down.” 

    Logan sat and Janus tugged his loose neckline down enough to expose his shoulder. Janus hummed. 

    “Is it hurting?” 

    “Just a little. I’m okay.” 

    “Let me get some ice.” 

    Janus came back a moment later and settled the icepack on Logan’s shoulder. 

    “Why haven’t you kicked us out?” Logan asked quietly. 

    “Because if he left, you’d go with him. And we like you a lot.” Janus ran his fingers through Logan’s hair, who leaned into the touch. “Besides, we have better plans for him. We’re killing him, remember?” 

    Logan laughed, and prayed to God Jaxon didn’t hear. 

    xxx 

    Logan didn’t see Jaxon again until dinner. Roman and Remus were play-fighting in the kitchen, yelling over the boiling of a stew. Patton and Virgil were watching a horror movie on the couch, Janus sat at their feet. Virgil kept kicking him. 

    Jaxon came down the stairs as Logan asked to help with dinner. Remus quickly took Logan under his arm. 

    “Yeah! Stir this for me. Hey, Jaxon. I’ve got Logan helping me here.” 

    “I missed you at lunch today,” Logan said over his shoulder. “Are you okay? Feeling sick?” 

    “A little,” he mumbled. “Will you eat with me?” 

    Logan melted. “Of course. Remus, is this safe for him?” 

    Remus grabbed Logan’s shoulder. Logan furrowed his eyebrows as they locked eyes. 

    “Yes.” Remus tapped something on the counter. “Janus and Roman helped me.” 

    Logan glanced down. 

    Peanut powder. 

    He swallowed. 

    “It’s perfectly safe for Jaxon.” 

    Blood rushed through Logan’s ears. 

    “No, actually.” Logan sucked in a shuddering breath. “No, I want to make him something myself.” 

    Remus’ shoulders slumped. “I understand. I guess.” 

    “But…” Logan grabbed his hand. “You can make it again if I ask?” 

    Roman set a hand on Logan’s lightly purpled shoulder. “We absolutely can.” 

    Logan got to work making Jaxon grilled cheese sandwiches, and they ate in the living room with everyone else. Jaxon kept wrinkling his nose and pursing his lips like he was rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

    “Everything okay, Jax?” Patton asked sweetly. 

    “There’s no peanuts in that, right? Something about the smell is setting me off.” 

    “Nope.” Janus laid his head in Remus’ lap. “We know about your allergy, Jaxon. We’re careful.” 

    xxx 

    That night, Logan stayed up late with Jaxon watching movies. Logan fell asleep cuddled against Jaxon’s chest and woke up the next morning snuggled with him in bed. 

    He hauled himself out of bed, heavy with exhaustion, as the smoke alarm screamed. Janus kissed Remus on the cheek before leaving for their coffees. Remus cracked another egg in the pan. Roman sang Disney at the top of his lungs as he got ready in the bathroom, Virgil pounding on the door demanding that he needed to piss. Patton snapped that there’s another bathroom upstairs and that if those two didn’t stop fighting he’d lose his mind. 

    Logan found a path in the kitchen to grab the stuff for French toast. He pushed aside Remus’ used dishes and ingredients to set his own down. 

    “How are you feeling?” Remus asked as Logan whisked. “You know, about the decision you made.” 

    “Good,” he admitted. “I think it was the right call.” 

    Remus set the spatula down hard. “So how else do you wanna proceed?” 

    Logan’s whisks slowed. “I… I don’t know. Last time I talked about maybe taking a break, he—” 

    “Hey, Jaxon!” Patton greeted cheerfully. 

    Logan snapped his mouth shut. 

    “Morning, handsome.” Jaxon kissed the back of Logan’s neck. 

    He smiled as Jaxon poured them both juice. “It was the right decision.”

    xxx 

    “Logan!” Jaxon bounded down the stairs. “When are you stopping for lunch?” 

    “Um…” Logan shifted in his seat. “I had lunch.” 

    Jaxon stopped. “What?” 

    “It was quick.” Logan pushed back in the chair to face Jaxon. “Just a snack, really. Then I got right back to work.” 

    “Why would you eat without me? I knew it, you are mad at me. We always have lunch together.” 

    “I know, I’m sorry—”

    “If you know, why did you eat without me? What did I even do?”

    “You didn’t do anything!” 

    “But you’re mad at me.” 

    “I’m not mad at you!”

    “THEN WHY WOULD YOU EAT WITHOUT ME?”

    Logan flinched. 

    Jaxon grabbed his wrist and hauled him to his feet. “Don’t be a baby! Just tell me!” 

    He slammed Logan into the wall just as Janus’ door opened. Logan’s head bounced off the paint, his eye erupting in pain. 

    “Get off,” Janus snapped. 

    “This is none of your business! Go back to work!” 

    Janus pulled his phone out of his pocket. He dialed three numbers. 

    “Put the phone down!” 

    “I need someone here right away, my roommate—”

    Jaxon leapt ten steps back. Logan crumpled in on himself, pressed against the wall where Jaxon left him. 

    “I think he’s calming down now,” Janus said into the phone. He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I would like you to remain on the line.” 

    Jaxon grabbed his wallet and keys, and stormed out. The door slammed and Logan flinched. 

    “He’s gone now. Thank you for your help. Let me ask.” He pressed the phone to his shirt. “Do you want to press charges? Do you want the police to come?” 

    Logan shook his head, eyes watering. “I want to make dinner.” 

    xxx 

    “That again?” Jaxon asked, peering over Logan’s shoulder. 

    Logan stirred the thick broth. “You didn’t get to try it. It’s good.” 

    Jaxon shrugged. “Is your eye okay?”

    “It’ll heal.” 

    He left. Logan grabbed the peanut powder and dumped in a generous amount, then left it to boil and cook down. 

    Everyone stared at Jaxon as they ate. Logan finished his bowl and grabbed seconds. Pale blotches appeared on Jaxon’s face. His lips swelled. 

    “Are you sure this doesn’t have peanuts?” He asked nervously. “I don’t feel great.” 

    “My eye hurts,” Logan announced. 

    “I have some medicine for it.” Remus kissed Logan’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.” 

    Jaxon glared. “Kiss your own boyfriend!” 

    By the time Remus came back, Jaxon’s throat was swelling shut. “Drive me to a hospital,” he demanded in a hoarse voice. 

    Patton knelt between Logan’s legs and applied the cream Remus bought to Logan’s browbone and the top of his cheekbone. 

    “Dinner was good,” Virgil said. “Are you gonna finish yours, Jax?” 

    He glared and stumbled for the door. “What the hell is this?” 

    Virgil shrugged and grabbed Jaxon’s bowl, downing the rest. Roman leaned against the door with his arms crossed. Jaxon threw a punch, but Roman easily ducked against Jaxon’s weak, wobbling frame. 

    “Oh, God, are you okay?” Patton gasped. “Call an ambulance!” 

    Jaxon collapsed to his knees as his body convulsed. His hands dug into the carpet. He vomited, elbows and knees locking. 

    “Shit, did we add peanut?” Roman asked. “Old habits.” 

    “What’s the number again?” Remus stared at his phone in confusion. 

    “What’s… wrong… with you… all…” Jaxon gasped through his throw up. 

    “911, I think,” Logan mumbled. “Are you okay, love?” 

    “I need someone here right away. My roommate is having an allergic reaction. He was eating alone, we didn’t catch it very fast— yes. Okay, I understand. Mhm.” He gave them the address then hung up. 

    Janus, Remus, and Roman turned on the T.V. Logan and Patton got to work cleaning up after dinner. Virgil stared Jaxon down. 

    He was dead before the paramedics arrived. 

    xxx 

    The smoke alarm blared. Logan hauled himself out of the warm bed and came out of Janus and Remus’ room. 

    “Slept long enough,” Janus said, wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist. 

    Logan leaned his head on Janus’ shoulder. “Coffee?” 

    “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

    “Breakfast is almost ready!” Remus called. “Hurry up!” 

    “I HAVE TO PISS, ROMAN!” 

    “THERE ARE TWO BATHROOMS!” 

    Logan got into the car with Janus. Janus pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the nearest coffee shop. 

    “How are you feeling?” Janus asked, reaching over and taking his hand. 

    “Hungry.” 

[profoundpidgeon]

✨Haikyu Headcanon(s) of the Evening! ✨

Author's Note: These are just lil' roomate headcanons I came up with cause I just wanted some so I decided to make some! Anyways this is a part 1 out of 2 (I think and hopefully) and as always I hope y'all enjoy! 😊 ~Pidge

Miya Atsumu:

• God this chaotic bastard where do I even start

• Well let's just say you were looking for a roomate and stuff and welp he took the opportunity and idk why but you accepted him (I guess he checked all the boxes for you congrats🎉🎉🎉)

• Now actually LIVING with him can either be a pain in the ass or quite enjoyable

• He gets up at a decent time, early for volleyball (maybe 7-8am) but SLEEPS IN when he doesn't have to go. (I believe like 2-3pm at times) one time you thought he was dead and almost called the hospital, he almost smacked you for that 🤣

• I see him as not being the apartment that often cause of volleyball but he'll be in the apartment just to chill or just to annoy ur ass if he's bored.

• HE WOULD LIKE TO HAVE DESINGNATED MOVIE NIGHTS!!! he also might invite ya know bo, hinata and sakusa but there's sometimes where he just wants to chill with u~

• I believe he's not really a good cook and you would have to make most of the meals or at least remind him to have a decent meal once in a while (if your not a good cook welp... y'all will suffer together I guess)

• He'd be snacking CONSTANTLY I👏SWEAR👏 (This is why ya gotta remind him to have decent meals all the time). I mean there will be nothing in your pantry. It's a literal compition that he wins most of the time to who gets the last packet of pocky. Smh 😑

• I feel like his room would be half messy and half not? Like there would be clothes on the floor but he would make sure to make his bed and his dresser would be a bit messy but not too messy. (Ya know? I hope you get it cause I'm not changing it)

• Please give this man the head pats before volleyball practices (he'll find it cute and if you look close enough you might see him ~blushing~)

Bokuto Koutorou:

• YES ITS TIME FOR MY FAVORITE HIMBO!!! god I LOVE him

• Such a caring man AND WITH SO MUCH RESPECT WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE HIMMM

• anyways

• I hope y'all were friends before you decided to move in together PLEASE SAY YOU WERE (well too bad, I'm the writer, you got no choice in the matter)

• He takes afternoon naps... end of headcanons (no but really when u come back from school or work and he's home before you, you can sometimes hear a soft snore from the couch and you just decide to put a blanket on top of himmm)

• On the contrary of Atsumu, I think he'll be a great cook! I think he'll know how to make 3-4 meals very VERY well and present them to you and be so proud of them. He'll puff out his chest and everything (gosh he's making me so proud just writing this)

• He might once in a while ask you politely if his friends can come over and might borrow the apartment for a while (you'll be out till they leave but hopefully you don't mind)

• If he comes home and he's in his emo mode, you either 1. Call Akaashi or 2. Make him soup and build a blanket fort (it will either be chicken noodle or just some comforting soup... anything to get this baby happy again 😊😊😊)

• This may or might catch you off guard (depending on how close y'all get) but he may ask for random hugs. Just for the sake of it and because I believe he's touch starved and craves physical affection.

• Even tho I said before that he might politely kick you out if he wants to have the home/apartment for the bois, at least PLEASE have some games of chaotic Jenga with them like COME ON (I play chaotic Jenga with my friends all the time and hoooo boi)

• Like Atsumu, he deserves the head pats too! I believe there will be a lot of physical touch/affection in your relationship and it's just so sweet! GAH Y'ALL ARE ADORABLE!

• Anyway, Bokuto Koturou would make a great roomate... MOVING ON

EDIT: Damn I forgot to add that he'll probably join in if you decide to paint your nails. Alright now let's continue!

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

• ngl idk how you became roomates with him but congrats 👌👌👌(I guess by pure chance I guess??? ) anyways...

• Y'all would have assigned cleaning chores of course. If you're having a bad day or not feeling good, he wouldn't mind doing your chores for you and taking care of you.

• Ya know I feel like just doing a puzzle with him so y'all might have some puzzle nights and try to challenge yourselfs after each one you complete.

• LOVES TEA. Will recommend tea and different types of tea to you. Will bring different types of authentic teas into ur apartment and y'all can rate teas together! 🍵🍵🍵

• Not that affectionate but will accept words of affirmation. Really does appreciate a 'thank you' and a genuine compliment once in a while.

• Will remind you to wear a mask outside ALWAYS, he doesn't want you to get sick what can I say?

• Even if it might not look like it, Sakusa does care about you. He will give you those gentle reminders to drink water and eat everyday, say lil' thank yous' here and there and genuinely respects as a person.

ANOTHER EDIT CAUSE I CAN'T CONTAIN MYSELF APPARENTLY: But ALL of them would in some way sing in the shower:

Atsumu and Bokuto just BELTING without any care or regret (especially bokuto, some of you've seen tiktoks)

And I feel like for Sakusa he would either silently hum or either have a mini conversation with himself (like a lil' podcast or somethin' 😂) ALRIGHT IM DONE IM DONE

Another author's note: This already seems romantic but I meant it in a platonic way. When I make both parts keep in mind the the relationship is platonic! (Don't worry I might make a part where they go from roomates to lovers if I can gather the brain power 😂)

ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE! :

https://profoundpidgeon.tumblr.com/post/642970351801958400/haikyuu-headcannons-of-the-evening

HEY LOOK! I MADE A PART 2! I hope y'all enjoy! 💖💕💖