#doctor whos always been something ive been like yeah ill watch that at some point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

komoreangel · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader

scenario: you met when you were both very young, and since the day he left you behind he still feels an undying fear for what sight would await him if he dared to return home.

or…

thantophobia - the fear of losing a loved one. but he had made it perfectly clear that you did not fall under that category when he left you and all of your promises behind.

request: okok my first idea was: scaramouche childhood friends to enemies to lovers. take with that what you will <3

a/n: hi anon ty so very much for the request we all know i love scara <33 but i did tweak it a bit basically its childhood friends to enemies to scara loves reader but reader isnt convinced (with a hint of 'ive always loved you' thrown in)

side note: this is a rewrite of an excerpt i wrote for a scara x oc, in which the oc was female (the same is said here but i will avoid using pronouns) and adopted into the kamisato clan as a princess (minor inazuma spoilers). the same situation is stated here. also i am 1000% willing to write more of this (includes my personal headcanons for scaramouche’s backstory, not canon!!)

growing up, you had always had poor health

your mother worried for you a lot when you were younger

she didn’t like to let you go outside much either

you spent most of your time in the palace walls while she worked, frequently being taken to see the royal physician

you would sit outside the door while your parents talked with the doctors about your “condition”

you weren’t even that sick

just weak for your age

that was when you first met him

he was training to be a soldier along his father

you were like a ghost in his eyes

sitting in the hall in the middle of the night

knees pushed to your chest, snoozing in the soft light of the moon

he was naturally a curious boy, so he kneeled in front of you and poked your shoulder

“hello?”

you startled awake

“wah-!” he fell back at your sudden movement

“who are you?” you asked

your voice was soft, and gentle, like a midnight breeze

“i’m [redacted].”

you remember what he told you, but some part of that memory had been erased from your mind…you wonder to this day what he could have said.

“my name is y/n.”

he thought it was a pretty name, although he wasn’t going to say anything

the two of you sat in the moonlight, talking quietly amongst yourselves

“why are you sitting outside the physician’s office?” he asked you

“my mama says i’m sick, and that going outside will make it worse.”

“oh. are you going to get better soon?”

you smile at him, a gesture that makes his chest tighten, although he can’t fathom why.

“yeah! she says that if we can afford to get some medicine from liyue, i’ll be all better! then i can start making friends!”

he slightly smiles

“can i be your friend, [redacted]?”

you had even said the name yourself once. why couldn’t you remember it?

his expression shifts to a slightly surprised look

“you…want to be my friend?”

he was quiet even then, and his silent expression would grow to an angry one over time

“yeah! you’re interesting, and you’re one of the few people who bothers to talk to me.”

he doesn’t speak for a while.

“you can say no if you want to.” you say to him.

“okay. i’ll be your friend.”

it’s a short response, but the bright grin that lights up your face makes it worth the wait

“yay! i can’t wait till i’m better so we can hang out more!”

you two talked in that hallway a lot

meeting after dark, talking about anything in the world

when you were about six, the worst of your illness hit you

the doctors didn’t even know what was wrong, and there were nights when he would sit outside the physician’s office alone at night, hoping, praying that the sun would shine on a world that still had you in it

you would collapse from exhaustion at the slightest overexertion

his father always told him he had to be careful with you, not only were you shorter than him, but you were also very fragile

those hours spent sitting in the hallway alone, he got to do a lot of thinking

he wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how

then, there was a sudden burst of hope

you were going to liyue with your parents

you would get the help you needed

he was happy for you, even if it meant you would have to spend time away from him

and then there was the terrible news

the ship had gone missing

you had too

he couldn’t sleep for days on end

his father was worried too

when he saw you again, you found yourself shuddering on the shores of inazuma

he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, as if his strength alone could undo everything that had happened

it was one of the few times he showed affection in public

he rushed you to the healer again

and this time there was no hoping

there was no praying

there was just the pit in his stomach, the fear that coursed through his veins and fueled his blood

every second felt like a decade, it was a moment in which you weren’t perfectly healthy and safe

the townspeople began to spread rumors, as people do

the guard’s son who was lovesick with worry for the sickly orphan girl

what a pity, no?

he wanted to shut them up. he wished he had the power to shut them up.

when even his father had to drag him away from the pharmacy, he didn’t talk to anyone for a very long time.

this was around the time he grew sour and snappy

his simply quiet demeanor developed into a scowl that constantly graced his face

he only smiled the day you were released from the physicians.

you weren’t fully healed. but you felt better than you ever had in your life.

his father took you in without a second thought, and he was just happy to have you with him.

“i’m better, scara.” you said to him, a happy smile on your face

“i was wondering when you’d hurry up and get well.”

you were a bit troubled by his attitude, but no less, you were happy to see your friend again.

it went like that for a long time.

he was rude, but you didn’t care because you knew what he was like underneath.

some nights he would sneak into your room and talk to you.

he told you he was just bored and felt like annoying you.

but his real reason was to make sure you were still breathing.

he always worried about you

so the day you received your vision, he felt a lot of relief

surely this meant that you could protect yourself. you were safe.

then the worst of all things happened.

his fathers death.

the day he felt like his world was ripped from underneath his feet.

almost immediately, the electro archon, baal, herself, intervened, and declared that you were to be adopted into the kamisato clan.

why you? why couldn’t he keep you with him? he was old enough to be able to take care of both of you

baal didn’t like his questioning. she said she knew what was best for you.

it was strange. because in the days he spent with you after, although not many, you didn’t seem sick at all.

for the first time, you seemed perfectly healthy.

he was glad for that…but he wasn’t happy. you could see that easily.

you knew this wasn’t the right thing for him

he stuck around for a year. you suppose you’re lucky he even stayed that long. you were pretty much his only reason.

sure he found friends in ayaka and kazuha…but he was unhappy.

he knew there was no point in staying, so he thought it was time he took his leave.

he approached you one day, as the sun began to set

you were worried for him, as he had been very angry towards baal and the emperor lately.

“scara, is there something you want to talk about?”

you watch as he stands before you

he blurts out, “run away with me.”

you’re taken aback almost immediately.

“what?”

he repeats his statement

“i’m going to flee from inazuma. come with me.”

“scara..”

his expression, as it does often these days, turns stern and serious.

“i’m not going to ask you again. come with me, y/n.”

you’re tired of him ordering you around.

“you know i can’t. i have duties here. i can’t just betray my country for you.”

“you know baal wants me gone. she’s going to kill me if i stay. she might do the same to you.”

you scoff at his words. “she won’t harm me or you. you’re being dramatic.”

he spits out his next words, laced with venom. “baal killed my father. i hate her and so should you.”

“scara.”

“it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about him just because you’re royalty now.”

“scara.”

“don’t call me scara. come with me if you ever cared at all.”

“scaramouche!”

he goes quiet

“don’t go. please.”

he frowns

“you know i can’t do that.”

you want to try and make him stay

but he won’t. you know nothing you say will convince him. he won’t let himself be convinced by you, even if that’s what he truly wants.

you inhale

“get out of here.”

“what?”

“go. leave. and take this with you.”

you throw the necklace you were wearing at him, and he catches it. baal had exiled him, it was true, but he couldn’t expect you to throw everything away for him.

“wait, what are you-“

as the two of you stare each other down, you hear ayaka’s voice coming from the courtyard, calling for you.

she has a guard with her, as the emperor assigns every royal family member. you managed to ditch yours early on.

“the guard is gonna get you if you stay, scara. get out of here, now.”

he scoffs

“whatever. i can’t believe i thought you were worth risking my life.”

he pockets the necklace and steps over the wall, and he’s gone.

nine years of friendship and he threw you away like you were nothing

in truth, the minute he was out of sight, he threw down his bag in anger

he turned around and you weren’t there anymore

you gave up on him

so if he hated you, you deserved it

it might be worth a hefty price anyway.

at least that’s what he told himself

(he never stopped missing you. almost as soon as he joined the fatui, he requested an audience with the tsaritsa to ask her how you were doing.)

“a simple agent, asking that much of me? and for a girl? that’s very bold of you.”

upon hearing it was about you, the cryo archon grew very interested. of course she remembered you.

the sickly orphan she gifted a vision to at a very young age.

she told him you were well

what she didn’t tell him was about baal going berserk and massacring thousands of her people.

upon receiving the news, he felt that chill upon him once again

the fear that fell onto his shoulders, weighing him down, too scared to ask for more information. he didn’t want to be told you were gone.

“the royal family was not harmed.”

he felt his muscles relax as he calmed down.

he quickly reassumed an upright stance.

he was the sixth harbinger. he has no weaknesses. he cares for nothing and no one.

but beneath his mask, the fire of his love for you burned brighter than the flame of any pyro vision.

a/n: ok so i really enjoyed this….scara banner when. i did tweak it a bit but i have other things written for this scenario in which scara returns to inazuma and reader is (deservingly) PISSED with him :) lmk if you want me to post those !

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wavesmp3 · 3 years

Text

[ksw] clouds

sunwoo x reader

wc. 5k warnings: medical inaccuracies, death, illness, hospitals, overall just a pretty heavy piece genre can only be described as an absolute mess inspired mainly by san junipero but also slightly by charlie kaufman and wong kar wai

a/n: this is supposed to be told nonlinearly but like the creation of it was very messy so i have no clue if it actually worked, so good luck trying to make this piece make sense of this :)

act iii. scene iii.

Sunwoo sits and watches the sun shift from pink and blue to an impossible shade of green. And it’s then he knows that without a doubt Clara has ruined the color green for him. Because instead of marveling at the color of the sky, Sunwoo is reminded of the doors in her apartment building.

“Thought I might find you here.” The voice of a stranger who Sunwoo loved once upon a time says behind him. He tries like hell not to turn around. Not to lean back towards the voice and wait for your hand on his shoulder or your shin knocking familiarly against his back. He focuses on the waves crashing below instead. The roar of the water beneath him is deafening, but only if you let it be. He does, and he almost forgets that you’re behind him.

“Where’d you go?” You ask, now sitting next to him, tugging at the long grass.

“I’m right here.”

“And what about in there?” You bring a finger up and poke at the side of his forehead.

He turns to you, facing you in full. He takes in your features like it’s the first time all over again. And, oh, he wishes he knew before how many firsts you already had together. This is just another. This is just the first time he’s seen you in the past six months and remembered the thousands of times he’s seen your face before.

He studied your cheeks. The one he now recalls running the back of his palm over after you left for the Cloud.

He memorizes, for the millionth time, your eyes. He used to swear they were darker than they are, but then he saw them in the sun. He was dying back then; then he saw your eyes and you saved him. Just like that.

Mr. Choi was right of course. As he always must be. You and him are like an old married couple. Not like. You are. Almost were.

“I had lunch with Mr. Choi today.” He tells you.

You squint at him. “I know. It’s Thursday.” You pull out a piece of the grass. “What’d he make?”

“Ramen.”

“Was it good?”

“It was okay.”

“Too spicy?”

Suwnoo answers with a sigh, looking away from you and back towards the water. The deafening waves crash against the cliffside. “I know you looked at your file.” He finally says. You stop pulling at the grass. You still. “Mr. Choi told me.”

After he says it, there’s a silence that isn’t actually silent at all. The waves rage below his feet. The seagulls are there too, beneath, above, somewhere, everywhere. And then, of course, there’s you and Sunwoo, trying to be silent over the static in your heads and the machines you’re hooked up to in a universe far far away.

“Did he tell you about my file?”

He looks at you again. “No.”

“Oh.” You look away, brows furrowed, lick your lips, and then turn back to him. “So why are you upset?”

“After he told me, I went and I…”

“You didn’t.”

“I looked at mine.”

There’s another silence, except that this time it really is quiet. Sunwoo read once whilst in a rabbit hole of medical research that true silence only happens in a vacuum, where there is no medium for sound waves to travel through. This must be that. This place, the files, Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, Clara and her apartment building full of green doors--it’s a vacuum. And they stick people in it then call it the Cloud. They call it extra time. But it isn’t. It’s nothing and he’s stuck in the middle of it. So Sunwo stares at you, straight through the vacuum of time and space you’re both lost in, waits for you to say something, and then waits for himself to hear it.

“You looked?” You finally say, voice folding in on itself.

“Yes.” Sunwoo’s own voice is barely there. You must be reading his lips which you’ve always been good at anyways.

“So you know now?”

“I always knew, and now, I remember.”

act i. scene iv.

There’s been an accident.

That’s what they say when the sun falls out of the sky and the world starts spinning in the wrong direction. It’s how they show up at Sunwoo’s door painted in shades of blue and red, with authority in their arms and hands on their hips. How they prepare him for the looming moment where they rip past his skin, blood, bone to shoot a gun straight at his heart. I’m so sorry for your loss, they say leaving him with a bullet lodged somewhere between his left and right atrium.

And those are the four words that play over and over and over in Sunwoo’s head as he gets to the hospital. Those are the words that crawl inside his open chest and turn him blue and black with infection. There’s been an accident, he remembers, staring at the extraordinary measures taken to keep your heart beating and lungs beating. This is it. Except that the accident isn’t that you’re dying, but that you’re dying. It’s always supposed to have been him. He’s supposed to be the one stuffed with tubes and hooked up to monitors, the one whose life is hanging on by a thread, and you’re supposed to be the one that saves him. It all feels like a play that’s gone horribly wrong because everyone switched parts after intermission without telling him. At what point did you steal the role of dying protagonist from him?

We did everything we could, a stranger in a white coat says. Except that it’s not some stranger, it’s your colleague and co-worker because this is the hospital you work at and the hospital Sunwoo met you in. There was too much damage to the brain, they explain as the image of their tear-stricken face goes from your friend during intern year to the doctor who operated on you as your brain went dead.

“We have two options, right?” Sunwoo is far too familiar with surgery and all this. He knows from his hospital days what’s supposed to happen next. But apparently, things have changed since then.

“Actually, there’s a third option.”

Sunwoo doesn’t waste a second. He jumps out of the chair stained red from his bleeding heart and asks: “What is it?”

“We can upload them.”

act iii. scene ii.

In fifty days of living in the cloud, Sunwoo has learned all about the people that he shares a building with. There’s Mr. Chan who lives behind a vomit green on the same floor as him and who hasn’t left his room since last January. There’s also Mr. Choi, who lives behind the emerald door and invites Suwoo over for lunch every Thursday. Clara lives upstairs, where the walls are painted in various shades of green--olive, seaweed, moss, hunter, shamrock, sage, and others that Sunwoo tries not to think too deeply about. He’s only met Clara once in the past fifty days and has no particular wish to see her again. He hadn’t expected her to be a kid. Cancer, you told him after their introduction in the lobby, poor girl was only seven. As said before, Sunwoo tries not to think about it.

And then of course there’s you behind the forest green door who has been slowly showing him all the good places. There’s the beach where you spent the day making seashell necklaces. The cafe which serves its tea too sweet for him, but sweet enough to be considered your favorite. Sunwoo just gets the chocolate bread. You took him downtown. To a club. The tallest building. And to midtown where the amusement park is.

But his favorite place you’ve taken him so far is the cliffside above the beach, where the waves crash against the rocks in a way that can only be described as violent. That day you and him laid in the grass and stared at the clouds with your heads dangling just over the edge and water spraying the backs of your necks. That day you turned to him and told him you’re sorry. For what, he asked. I’m so sorry you’re sick, you said, but it’s nice to have you around here. I think in a sense, we’ve both been waiting for this. Then, you smiled and stole all of the blood from his body. So yeah, that day, that place--it’s his favorite.

Today, you take him on a hike up a mountain.

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” You ask him after having spent thirty minutes silently staring at the view from the best peak.

“One after this?”

“Yeah. I guess. Although, I’m not so convinced this counts.”

“I don’t know.” Sunwoo shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Do you think we’d be able to be with our loved ones in it?”

His chest lurches. “If there is one, yes.”

“Do you think it’ll be different than this?”

Sunwoo turns to you finally. “Why are you asking about this?”

You shake your head. “Nevermind. It’s a stupid question.”

He turns back towards the view. From here, he can make out Clara’s building. He thinks about her, about Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, who he recently found out were once married but who haven’t spoken since Mr. Chan read his file in January, and he thinks about you and about him.

“I think,” Sunwoo says, loud enough so that you can hear after wandering a little bit away from him, “that whatever the afterlife is, if it does exist, it’ll be worth it.”

You turn to him, but don’t make any move to come near him again. “And if it doesn’t exist?”

“Then life will have been worth it.”

The corner of your lip lifts. “I like that.”

Sunwoo only nods at the sentiment, and after a long while, he builds enough courage to ask, “you’ve been here a really long time, haven’t you?”

“Time doesn't work as linearly in the cloud as it does in the real world. Sometimes it feels like I got here and then you arrived the very next day.” You turn back towards the view and exhale heavily.

“But yes. I’ve been here for an eternity.”

act ii. scene i.

Before he actually sees you, Sunwoo feels you. Not you, in particular, but something in the distance, a presence in the corner of the room and a pair of eyes watching him from somewhere far away.

The scariest part is how much the feeling doesn’t actually scare him.

Two days after that, he starts to see you in the flesh. He tells himself that his mind is playing tricks on him, that the person he saw in the produce aisle wasn’t actually you at all and was just a stranger with the same hair.

He doesn’t go straight home from the store that day. Instead, he stops by the hospital and checks in on you, but even that doesn’t do anything about the fact that he sees a shadow of you behind the bed.

The day after that, you speak to him. Standing in the middle of his kitchen in broad daylight, you speak, you say hello, and the first thing Sunwoo thinks is that he’s dead.

You aren’t, you reply. You’re a zombie, he reasons, here for my brain. I’m not. A ghost. No. Are you, here Sunwoo falters, fear flooding out of his body to make room for the briefest blotch of hope that’s crushed almost immediately by you saying: I’m not alive, Sunwoo. You saw me in the hospital yesterday.

“So then,” he swallows, “what are you?”

I’m here. You look at him, stare at his face and without a sliver of doubt say, I’m here for you.

Sunwoo knows it’s impossible. You can’t be here. You can’t. And yet, you are.

Three years ago Sunwoo was told he had three months left to live, and he still remembers how impossibly you saved him from the brink of death. He remembers how impossible things happen all the time, and how impossibly possible it is that this is one of them. He steps towards you, touches your face, and feels the real, impossible thing against his hand.

“You’re here.”

On the fifth day of your haunting, Sunwoo finally has the sense to ask why.

Why what?

“Why are you here?”

I’m here for you.

“Stop saying that.”

But I am, you tell him. You asked, and that’s the answer. I’m a doctor, Sunwoo. I’m here for you.

Then, finally, he hears what you’ve been saying for the past five days. You’re here for him.

And the thing about doctors is that they’re there for you when you need them.

“I’m sick.”

Yes, you answer quietly, although it wasn’t a question.

“Again.”

I’m so sorry.

“You’re a hallucination, aren’t you?” Sunwoo’s shocked by how sad that makes him, how disappointing it is. “I’ve been hallucinating.”

Find me in the Cloud, Sunwoo. There’s something I want to say.

You’re gone by the time he gets to the hospital.

act iii. scene i.

Sunwoo stares at the hall of green doors, eyes darting from door to door in an attempt to stare down the shades until they confess which one of them is tea green.

“Clara, the landlord, likes colors.” A voice says from behind him. “Every couple of months she repaints all of the doors in different shades of the same one. Before the green, it was yellow.”

Sunwoo turns around to face you. When your eyes find him, they go blank for the smallest of moments. You give him a look that goes right through him, turning him inside out like you’ve seen the underside of his skin. It irks him.

“I’m Sunwoo. I’m new.”

You gulp. “You’re here.” He doesn’t know what to make of the statement. Do all people in the cloud act like this? “Why?”

Sunwoo nods, maybe you’re not so weird as much as you just have a weird way of posing questions. “I was told I’m sick.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning like you actually might feel back for him.

“Have you been here a while then?” You nod. “Can I ask how long?” You shake your head. Sunwoo doesn’t think too much about it. Instead, he returns your earlier question “Why are you here?”

“Brain dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

You ignore it and point to a door down the hall. “I’m forest green. You?”

“Tea green. But I can’t find-”

You tap the door in front of him. “This one, genius.”

“Oh.” He laughs awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Your mouth parts as if to say something, and your face goes blank again. He feels his skin turning itself inside out because of it. “Have you read your file yet?”

He shakes his head. “I just got here.”

You inhale, softening, and mutter an ‘okay’. You continue down the hall towards your door. Sunwoo is stuck in place. “I can show you around here, if you like. Take you to all the cool places.”

Sunwoo takes you up on it.

A forest green door slams shut down the hallway.

act i. scene ii.

“Thank you for taking me out of the hospital.” Sunwoo says, exhaling. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a park like this.”

And it’s true, he really can’t. He’s been sick for so long now, and has been through a multitude of treatment plans and too many surgeries. When you’re sick and have 9 surgeons turn you down after asking them to save your life, you forget the joy of being outside and feeling the sun on your skin. You were the first doctor to agree to the surgery. You’re the only doctor to have ever treated Sunwoo like he wasn’t dying, like he was actually going to live.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is good for me too.” You say, head resting against the park bench and eyes closed.

Sunwoo inhales, taking in the park with all his senses. A visceral sort of thing you learn to do as often as possible when you’ve been as close to death as frequently as he has. He feels the wood beneath his body and the grass beneath his feet. He feels the light on his skin and the wind pushing against his arms and nose. He listens to the kids screaming at the playground at the bottom of the hill and to the dogs barking within the dog park beside it. He takes all this in, relishes in it for the last time as a dying person.

You sigh. “One more surgery.”

“And then I’ll be done with this sickness.”

You smile. He pretends not to see. “And then you’ll be done.”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“Don’t do that.”

“No. Seriously.”

You smile again, this time at him. Sunwoo doesn’t have to pretend not to see. “I haven’t finished saving it yet.”

He leans back against the bench and closes his eyes. “But you will.”

You tap on your coffee cup. “Honestly though, you did more work than me.” Sunwoo frowns while you take a sip. “The other nine doctors you called are good doctors, and they made the same judgement call I would have made for any other patient. No sane doctor would have agreed to treat you. But you were the reason I said yes. You had such faith that you were going to live and so much faith that I could do it that I believed you. I might be the one doing the technical saving, but you, Sunwoo, you’re the one who convinced me to do it. You saved yourself.”

He stares at you. The light hits your eyes like it’s finding a way to break through them. In truth, before Sunwoo got sick, he didn’t think he was scared of death, but he is. He’s terrified of it. Sunwoo realized it two weeks after his diagnosis and the day after he was wrongly told he only had three more months left to live. But now, for the first time since he was diagnosed, he doesn't feel so afraid of it. Despite how far he’s come and how close he is to beating this fucking illness, while staring at the light woven through your eyes, Sunwoo thinks he could live with himself if he dropped dead tonight.

That thought alone, is almost as terrifying as death used to be.

act iii. scene v.

“I saw your ghost, you know.” It’s the first thing Sunwoo has said to you in over two weeks. “It wasn’t actually you though, was it?” You don’t even bother looking up from your cup of tea. Through the silence, Sunwoo orders a coffee.

“I didn’t know that.” The coffee turns lukewarm. “It wasn’t me.” You push an uneaten half of chocolate bread towards him. “It’s in your brain this time. Symptoms can include hallucinations.”

“Think you can still save me?” You can’t. If you know that much, you know he’s out of medical miracles, and that this time, he really won’t survive it. But it’s a joke. And you laugh at it.

“Definitely not. I never really liked neurosurgery.”

And all at once, he’s painfully aware of your friend somewhere in the real world that does like it but watched anyways as your brain died before her, split wide open.

“Anyways, how do you know all of this?” But what Sunwoo really wants to say is brains are killer. Literally. Figuratively.

“I’ve known since we...“ you hesitate, mouth stuck halfway through a word he can’t place. “After last time, I read your chart and looked at your scans.” Sunwoo nods. He expected as much. He doesn’t ask how you got them. “I’m sorry you're sick again.” You say to him quietly. “I’m sorry you’re dying.”

“I’m sorry you’re dead.” As soon as the words have left his mouth, he regrets them. Because you aren’t. And he knows you too well to think you’d look past the technicality.

You scoff, shake your head slightly, and with a spiteful smile say, “Can I say it?”

Sunwoo only sighs. “Let’s start over instead.”

You nod. He pushes the chocolate bread back.

act iii. scene iv.

Mr. Choi was the one to recommend that Sunwoo give you and himself space. It’s been a month since you and him last spoke, since that moment hovering above the waves after he read his file and after he found out you read yours. He misses you, and has been for so long now. Mr. Choi was wrong. Sunwoo’s standing outside your forest green door to prove it.

You open the door before he can knock. There’s no shock in your voice when you say his name, like you’ve been waiting for this day, expecting it.

He looks behind you, at your apartment in Clara’s building that looks just like your apartment in the real world. The same one he cleaned out after you died, still filled with things he gave to your family or donated or took back to his place. He wants to crumble just looking at it again. “Can I come in?”

“It’s only been a month.”

And he knows what you mean by it. Three months is the recommended time off after reading one’s file. To reacclimate, they say, to process. But the insinuation that Sunwoo was supposed to go three months without seeing you makes him feel sick. The insinuation that after a year of being without you in the real world he was supposed to be without you here too, enrages him. Then he remembers how long you’ve been here, and how long you’ve been doing this and feels slightly murderous.

All he says is: “It’s been a lot longer than that for you.”

Your lip twitches. You lock and unlock the open forest green door five times before saying, “Are you sure?”

He nods. You let him in.

Sunwoo used to imagine what it would be like to meet you again in the Cloud one day. He imagined tears and hugs and kisses. He imagined i love you’s and i hate you’s and i miss you. He imagined the scenario more times than can possibly be considered healthy. But he imagined something. He was waiting for the day. Waiting for this day. But this moment, sitting at your round wood table while you boil water for tea, is nothing like the million different ways he imagined seeing you again.

And as you set down two mismatched mugs and take the seat across from him, he doesn’t even try to create one of them. “How long has it been since you read your file?”

You watch the steam rise from your tea for a long moment, then stand, grab the sugar and pour a spoonful of it into your tea. You take another spoonful and look at him expectantly. “Want some?” He nods, and you pour the sugar into his. You stir the tea then taste, then cringe, then add more sugar and then ask if he wants it. He refuses. You stir again. Sunwoo watches the whirlpool and waits the eternity it takes you to say: “I read it on my first day.”

You put the sugar away, satisfied with the tea’s sweetness while Sunwoo marvels at how long you’ve known and how silently you’ve been carrying the knowledge of you and him since he came. And that knowledge is what makes him finally remember one of the reasons he came. “Is there something you want to tell me?” You look up at him when he asks it, exhaling like you’ve been wanting to bring it up for so long now, which Sunwoo guesses isn’t as much of a simile as he thinks it is.

“Yes, actually. I…” you hesitate, flicking the mug as if the right words will come hopping out of the tea. Sunwoo watches for it. “I’ve just been here for a long time now, Sunwoo.”

“Two years isn’t that long.”

“Time doesn’t work the same here as it does down there.” You tell him tiredly. “It’s been decades.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“In the beginning, I didn’t mind the waiting. I knew you were on your way, but I just,” you hesitate, “I didn’t think it’d take so long for you to come back to me.”

Sunwoo covers your hand with his. “I’m sorry.” You twist your palm into it, squeeze, then pull your hand away. Sunwoo swallows. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I know. I waited.”

“Do you regret it?” Sunwoo’s terrified of what the answer might be.

You don’t give it. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then?”

“I’ve been here for so long, and,” your head drops, voice breaking under the weight it carries, “it’s been so lonely.”

“But I’m here now.” Sunwoo says, leaning forward against the table. “You aren’t alone anymore.”

“I know you’re here. I know, and I thought that would fix it, but it didn’t. Seeing you in the hall that day was so bittersweet, because you were here but that also meant you were somewhere else dying. Because you were here and I still felt lonely.” You stop, chugg the remaining bits of your tea, and then wipe your cheeks. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“No.” But it’s a lie. He does get it. He knows all about loneliness and the way it creeps inside, so slyly. The way it starts small and then grows, feeding on negligence, until it's too big for your body. He knows how it sits inside you, for all its enormity, and spills into everything. He knows how it lingers. How it has nothing to do with people or lack of them and everything to do with grief. Sunwoo knows all about loneliness. The day he read his file he felt a dam of it burst open within him.

“I’m saying that in the real world I saved you, and now it’s your turn to save me.” You gulp. “I’m saying that I want you to unplug me.”

It takes a moment for Sunwoo to even register what you’ve said, but when he does remember the life support that’s keeping your body alive somewhere in a universe far away, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands and walks out of your apartment.

act i. scene iii.

“Doctor, please present.” The attending announces, stepping into Sunwoo’s room for rounds.

“Mr. Kim,” a resident starts, flipping open his chart, “was diagnosed 14 months ago and has gone through several different treatment plans. When he came to us, the illness had spread and was deemed inoperable and untreatable by several other physicians. Our treatment plan was aggressive and grueling but ultimately, effective. Sunwoo is 20 days post op from his third and final surgery. The surgery went extremely well with no complications and his vitals were excellent. He has been a model patient all throughout recovery, and according to our latest scans, he is also now illness free…”

Sunwoo doesn’t even bother listening to the rest.

“So, now that I’m no longer a patient, if I ask you out on a date, will you actually say yes?”

“Well,” you say, signing his discharge papers, “only one way to know.”

“What is it?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Ask me again.”

He does.

You say yes.

act iii. scene v. take ii.

“I saw your ghost.” The first thing Sunwoo says after the last failed attempt.

You look up from your tea. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know.” Sunwoo orders another coffee. “But the hallucination was how I knew I was sick again. It made me feel like you were trying to warn me, like you were up here somewhere caring from a distance. Right after I pieced it all together you told me to find you here and that there was something you wanted to say.” The coffee turns lukewarm again. Sunwoo can’t bring himself to say it. You sigh and push the same piece of chocolate bread back towards him. This time, he takes a bite from it. And with a mouthful of chocolate bread, he cries, “I just got you back, and now you want to leave all over again.”

You frown. “I didn’t want to leave the first time, and it’s different now.”

“How?”

“I want to go. Isn’t that worth something?”

“And what about what I want?”

“Oh, Sunwoo,” you say, “I’m sorry you’re sick. The hallucination was you and your head, but for what it’s worth, I have been up here caring from a distance. I still…” you don’t need to say the words. He knows. He never had to doubt it. “I never stopped.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked of me.” Sunwoo tells you. He made the decision last week but today, right now, with your confession still falling through the air, is the first time he’s had the stomach to swallow it. “And I’ll do it. I will. I just need some time. You’ve had so long and in comparison I’ve had nothing.”

“Okay.” You say simply.

“How long can you give me?”

You smile. “You know I’d give you an eternity if you asked for it.”

“I’m scared.” Sunwoo confesses then. “I know it’s what you want, but selfishly, I don’t want to let you again. I don’t know if I’m a big enough person to do it.”

“I do.” You say to him, leaning forward against the table and looking straight through him. “I know because I was your doctor. I have cut inside your body, seen all your organs, and during surgery two, I held your heart in my hands. I felt it beating. So I know exactly how big it is, and I know it’s big enough for this”

Sunwoo feels the heart you worked so hard to repair bursting inside of him.

“God. Why’d you have to read your file so soon?”

You laugh. “I missed you. I couldn’t help it.”

And just like that, you’ve stolen the entire concept of fear from him.

“I’m ready.”

“What?”

He looks at you and feels the loneliness slither away.

“Ask me again.”

#sunwoo x reader #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fanfic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo angst #mine #*clouds

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im-so-stuupid · 2 years

Text

lets be friends lol

heyyy, my name is monse but you can call me Mo. i’m an 18 y/o mexican american w ADHD, i think that sums me up ok.

i’ve posted something like this two years in a row so let’s just make it a tradition :)

i’m about to graduate highschool and i’m honestly scared. my first post to try and make friend was about liking one direction, harry styles, and some other stuff i’ve forgotten, last years post was about me liking Minecraft youtubers and all that, but it’s safe to say those are no longer my main hyperfixations. i’m always down to talk about the minecraft community (the good and bad),the toxicity of the internet in general, and to discuss important topics overall, though, my current obsession is now percy jackson again.

To all of the seniors going through tough times right now and are feeling lost,scared, and not ready, i feel you. if you need someone to hear you out just hit me up. really, as dumb as you think you sound or feel, feelings are feelings. dealing with mental illness and other unhealthy habits at this point makes me feel a little bit helpless and scared to move on from high school, but i have to remind myself that i am not alone in this, that other people understand this feeling too. so im here for you, and proud of all of us who have tried our best to make it to graduation.

but anyways,,, let me tell you about me and my relationship with PJO

i loved percy jackson when i was in middle school and it was my whole childhood. i never finished the heroes of olympus series because i think i was scared to have it all come to an end. Now that i’m a senior about to graduate i’ve decided to reread the books and finally finish the series, and i need people to talk to about the books :D i think finishing this series is the closure that i need, but i feel like many people (especially seniors) are going through tough spots right now and if you need someone to talk to and if you are willing to hear me rant about percy jackson once in a while don’t be shy to hit me up! just a “hey” to start a convo and it can lead somewhere

and of course pery jackson isnt the only thing ive been liking recently,if you want to talk music im always open to reccomendations! currently ive been back into tyler the creator but i think he might just be my all-time fav, rex orange county being a close second though, ive also been listening to panic at the disco again lmfao mostly the first two albums tho because they are the best (i don't accept criticism on this), and i guess ive been listeing to some mac miller, will wood, glass animals, harry styles, declan mckenna, and a bit of carseatheadrest loll.

i like minecraft, geoguessr and tbh i love playing fortnite because i suck and its really funny to do dumb shit so im down to game if you want. (i also have stardew and terraria if anyone would like to play with me). if you can teach me or want to learn how to play chess with me that would be sick tooi also quite enjoy crafting, i occasionally like to crochet, make friendship bracelets,make silly little clay things,draw, and paint.

I dont watch many shows or movies but i am really fucking excited for the new season of the umbrella academy to come out and for the new doctor strange movie as well, like SO excited. and ofc the PJO series that is in the works AHHH. my current fave youtubers are the sturniolo triplets and the only podcast i watch/listen to is the chuckle sandwich podcast but i do love emergency intercom as well.

so yeah, hmu if you wanna chat about anything and everything, all of the time ;) (also i forgot to mention that im gay but if you are homophobic please leave)

April 14, 2022

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

MonX Hospital | Changkyun

Pairing: Im Changkyun x reader

Genre: lab technician – hospital au / romance / strangers to lovers

Warnings: medical terms, and the word “blood” is used a lot, considering Changkyun’s profession, illness.

Word count: 4417

Turning around to the next tray of samples to check, Changkyun stopped for a moment after reading the name on the adjoining paperwork. Working at MonX Hospital as a Laboratory Technician meant he could process samples from the same patients at least twice within his working week. It shouldn’t stand out as anything important to him, yet when he saw your name for the eighth time in the past two weeks, Changkyun found himself a little stunned. There were several other technicians in this department who could have processed your blood work but it seemed to always end up in his batches.

“Everything alright?” his co-worker Bora questioned and Changkyun snapped out of his thoughts, however, his brows remained furrowed.

“Yeah, I’m just getting familiar with this patient’s blood samples.”

Bora grinned. “That sometimes happens. I like to think of it as a sense of fate for a technician to see the same person’s samples during their stay. It’s a pleasure to watch as things improve for the patient through their continued testing.”

As Changkyun waited for the results from the automatic analyser to be transferred to the computer he was monitoring, he didn’t hold the same optimism as Bora did. He had been steadily watching the decline in your numbers over the past two weeks. And when the results appeared, his shoulders dropped.

“There’s an abnormality in these results,” he murmured, and Bora swivelled her chair around so she could see the screen. As a technologist, she was more experienced in looking at results such as these. Still, Changkyun could tell the levels to your iron and blood oxygen count were low.

You would no doubt need a transfusion today.

“Just remember that doing these tests are what will help this patient get the right treatment for a quick recovery.”

Changkyun nodded softly. However, your results bothered him for the rest of the morning and he even spent some time staring at a sample under the microscope just to find exactly where the abnormality was. He was invested for some reason and hoped he could find a way to see your numbers improving each second day instead of dropping.

Resigned, he stepped out for a coffee break in the hospital’s public cafeteria, watching as a patient rested her head against a windowpane. She looked far too pale to be away from her room, though she smiled when the sun danced over her skin.

He couldn’t help himself and sat at the table next to her. “Are you here for the sun?”

“After being locked up in this place for two weeks, I’ve finally found a spot where I can get direct sunlight. It’s too nice a weather lately to be cooped up inside so this is my happy medium.”

“I hate to break it to you but you know you can’t absorb vitamin D through a windowpane, right?”

The patient looked at him with a heavy pout which made him regret speaking the fact out loud. “Really? Is it only if I go outside? I’m not allowed out though…”

“Sorry,” he said apologetically. “I once was stuck inside recovering from a really bad virus and used to sit by the window every day until my father, who is a scientist, told me otherwise.”

Peering at his badge, she nodded. “I guess it’s now a bit of a like father like son moment then. He broke your heart and now you’re breaking mine, Im Changkyun.”

Changkyun cringed and waved a hand in dismissal. “I really didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, I’m teasing you. Are you a doctor?”

“No, I work in the lab.”

“Doing what?”

“Running tests on the samples we receive.”

“Like blood tests?” she asked and Changkyun nodded. She then smiled warmly. “Maybe you’ll have come across mine.”

“Maybe.”

“If you can figure out what’s wrong with me, I’d ask you out on a date, you know.”

Changkyun, having taken a sip from the coffee mug, spluttered it everywhere. “Wh-what?!”

“I’m kidding, of course,” she remarked, looking back outside. “The doctors keep saying that monitoring my blood samples will find the answer to why I’m so sick but all that keeps happening is-”

“Y/N!” a voice called out and Changkyun let go of the mug he was holding, gaping at the patient now being fussed over by a distraught relative, the wheelchair she was sitting in now being wheeled away.

Your wheelchair.

It was you, the person he had been staring at under a microscope all morning long. Well, your blood sample at least. He couldn’t believe that the mystery in the lab had appeared in front of him right now. It was his first time meeting a patient in the flesh like this.

“Wait!” he called out fruitlessly and you turned back, shifting around to grin at him.

“I hope you can find what’s wrong with me, Mr Technician! If you do, I’ll go on a date with you!”

Glancing down at the coffee starting to run off the side of the table and then at your departure, he groaned, reaching out for a stack of napkins to clean up his mess.

Changkyun was hopeful this wouldn’t be the last time he saw you outside of the laboratory.

His daily trips for the rest of the week to the cafeteria didn’t bring you back into his presence. Your samples hadn’t been as regular as before and when you did turn up in his batches on Thursday, he smiled when he saw he had predicted right. Your iron and blood levels had rapidly increased, indicating you had received transfusions of both. You would no doubt be feeling a bit better after receiving the treatment, though he couldn’t be sure since you hadn’t returned to the cafeteria since that day. Had his pointing out about the sun having no effect stopped you? Or was it the relative who acted as if you were too fragile to be around others that had prohibited your return?

It was strange. He had never found himself so interested in another human before like this. You weren’t someone who matched his typical type in women, but Changkyun couldn’t deny you captivated him either.

Was it the added bonus that he had seen what your cells looked like up close? Shuddering with the rather creepy thought, Changkyun tried to forget about you. He knew he couldn’t, though. He was too invested in helping find a reason for your illness, as a professional of course.

“It’s not because of the date offer,” he mumbled to himself, ears growing hot despite his outspoken stance.

Though, he wondered if you actually had meant it since you mentioned it twice.

Another two weeks went by and by that time, your samples were almost back to how they had been before the transfusions. The doctors hadn’t figured out anything, he concluded. And every time he ran the automated analyser or looked at a sample on a slide, Changkyun couldn’t figure what was causing your cells to be abnormal. Even after talking with a pathologist for better understanding, there was little to go on aside from having a type of anaemia. But even the more experienced people couldn’t decide on which type it was.

You were a mystery to everyone.

And strangely, he missed you.

“I know you’ve worked extra today, but reckon you could go pick up some samples for me? Dora fell down a set of stairs an hour ago and is in orthopaedics so can’t collect the samples from wards fifteen and sixteen that we need to test tonight.”

Changkyun nodded at Bora. “I can do that.”

“Good, after you fetch them you can go home.”

“How kind of you to let me go like that,” he cheekily replied and Bora laughed.

“Well, I could make you stay on even longer and-”

“Ten hours is enough!” he chimed, diving to door to the department. “I’ll get the samples and then get out of here.”

“Less talk, more movement, Changkyun!”

He chuckled as he headed to the elevators in the lobby to take up to the floor needed. He thanked the nurse after retrieving the samples from ward sixteen, heading across the foyer to the opposite ward. Whistling softly as he walked to the nurse’s station, Changkyun glanced lazily around the ward, skidding to a stop when he noticed your name on the wall. Blinking rapidly, he went towards the door when a nurse caught his attention.

“Are you here to collect the samples?”

“Uh, yeah,” he distractedly answered, smiling weakly. Tearing his eyes reluctantly from your door, he followed the nurse to her station and waited for the package. Changkyun went to walk off, only retracing his steps back to the nurse. “Is room three allowed visitors?”

“Miss L/N?” she spoke and he nodded. “She has restricted access at the moment due to a family request.”

“Ah, that answers that then,” he murmured and then smiled back at the nurse. Thanking her, he then headed back down the hallway, his feet dragging outside your door. He craned his neck as if that would gain him better access to seeing you again. Your blinds were shut and only a small window in the door allowed him a brief look into your space. Sighing, he began to move again when he spotted you coming back into the wardroom.

You were walking this time, albeit with the help of an IV stand. You grinned. “Well if it isn’t Mr Technician.”

“Changkyun,” he corrected awkwardly and clamped his eyes shut. “I mean, please call me Changkyun.”

“Are we one a first name basis now?” you wondered with an animated smile. “I guess you already know mine. Sorry about the other week. My Aunt is a bit over the top. I’m all the family she has left so me being sick has sent her into a perpetual meltdown.”

“It’s fine, though I did wonder if you went in search of other places around the hospital for vitamin D.”

“Do you know, they’re supplementing it through this bad boy to me,” you mentioned, patting the IV machine. “Along with a multitude of other things.”

“Still no definite answer to what’s going on?” he asked and you gave him a wry smile.

“That would be too easy, now wouldn’t it? Every day they propose something else, and then take it back. I wonder how hard medical school must be if they can’t seem to collectively come up with an answer.”

“I don’t blame you for being frustrated.”

You shrugged and then pointed at him. “What about you? How’re my samples looking?”

“I’m struggling to figure out the abnormally. My whole team has looked at it and have suggested a few things but equally can’t come to a conclusion.”

You giggled. “I feel so exposed. Everyone gets a look at me under a microscope except me.”

“Maybe one day you could too,” Changkyun blurted out without much thought, scrunching his face up in realisation. “Uh, I mean not many people would-”

“Can I? Would I be allowed to?!” you wondered, stepping closer to him with a bright expression. You seemed hopeful and who was he to knock you down for that. Changkyun was nodding before he even realised it.

“Sure. I’ll make sure you can.”

You grinned, patting his arm as you passed him to go towards your room. “Sounds like it’s a date.”

It took a lot of convincing and doing the dirty jobs around the lab for an entire week before Bora agreed to let you look at your own blood sample. Bora gave Changkyun a pointed look. “You’re invested in this case, you know.”

“I know.”

“Did you seek the patient out first or-”

“We met by chance, I swear. I’m not going to go against professional conduct and privacy clauses. Further, if you hadn’t of sent me to go retrieve those samples-”

“Okay, blame me, it’s my fault!” she concluded with a shake of her head, a loose grin spreading out her lips. “You’re lucky I’m a hopeless romantic, Changkyun.”

“Wait, I wasn’t, I’m not…” Flustered with his supervisor’s reaction to his request, he fanned a hand at his face, trying to express that it wasn’t anything like that. Bora didn’t buy it and when Changkyun went to collect you for the scheduled visit, he felt hot under his collar.

Why was his good deed being taken as anything more than that?

However, when he reached your room, he stopped in the doorway, finding you out of your pyjamas and in a floral dress instead. You spun around, carefree.

“What are-- I mean… Woah.”

“Thank you,” you said with a broad smile. “I hoped you’d like it.”

“Why did you get dressed up?” he asked hastily, glancing down at his usual work attire and lab coat.

You giggled. “You look handsome for our date too.”

“Oh, this isn’t a date.”

“Didn’t you offer me to come with you to the lab?”

“Yes, but-”

“And didn’t I agree and say it’s a date?”

He nodded quickly. “You keep joking around with that and-”

“Hospital life is boring, let me enjoy experiences like this, hm?” you pleaded and Changkyun bit at his bottom lip before nodding again, holding out his arm for you to take. You were delighted by his chivalry and swooped in around it, clasping his lower arm gently. And you practically skipped at his side all the way to the lab.

You were gracious during the visit. You complimented his team and made them smile, everyone becoming more comfortable with the idea of a patient in the lab. You asked questions and Bora was in her element answering them for you. You were engrossed by the process of their work and by the time Changkyun took you to the back office where he had set up a microscope for today out of the way from the rest of his team, you were buzzing.

“This is amazing. You do so much here!” you breathed, taking a seat next to him in awe. “I’ll never complain about getting another blood test taken again.”

Changkyun looked at your bruised skin around the underside of an elbow and instinctively reached out to run his fingers over it. “You’ve had so many.”

“Those aren’t even the places they get it from me right now,” you lamented, patting his hand gently all the same. “I’m okay if it means I’m helping you all find whatever it is you can in my samples to help me get better.”

“Speaking of samples, should we look at yours now?” he asked after a visible swallow, reaching forward to the equipment and turning it on. He looked through the ocular lens and fiddled with the machine until he was satisfied with the setup. Changkyun then gestured for you to take a look.

You turned timid as you did so, quietly staring into it.

“This is your most recent sample,” he told you and you didn’t answer. Feeling more confident than you in the situation, Changkyun expertly changed settings of the magnification for you and then took the slide out and replaced it with another. “This is a healthy blood sample. Can you see the difference?”

“Kind of. Can you swap them a couple of times so I can get a better understanding?” you asked quietly and he did that for you, hearing you sigh when you were looking at your own again. “So this is why I’m sick?”

“It indicates you have an abnormal cell structure right now, yeah.”

Lifting your eyes from the lens, you glanced curiously at Changkyun. “Are you allowed to show me the other blood sample like this? I mean, I get seeing mine, but another patient-”

“It’s mine,” he confessed with a short laugh. “So you don’t have to worry about any privacy clause.”

“You drew your own blood just to show me this sample?”

“Well, it made sense to have a second slide. In experiments, we always have a control slide when presenting variables and-”

Your lips cut off his explanation then, pressing softly into his. Before he could truly register that you had kissed him, you pulled away, covering your mouth with a hand.

“I uh, I was touched, that’s all,” you quickly told him, turning away from him to recover. Changkyun cleared his throat noisily and then stood up.

“Is there a reason why you’re not allowed to go outside?”

Frowning at his random question, you nodded. “Too many people are out there.”

“Tomorrow at lunchtime, don’t make plans,” he announced and you eyed him carefully. Changkyun, emboldened with your kiss, smiled warmly at you. “I know where you can get direct sunlight without anyone bothering you.”

Admittedly, it had taken Changkyun all this time to find a place where you could access the sun without technically leaving the hospital grounds or leaning out a window to do so. He hadn’t at first understood why he started searching, ruling it down to his logical side needing to find an answer to the question proposed in his mind. But as he helped you up the final metal stairs to the rooftop, Changkyun knew the reason he had searched for this was because he liked you.

A whole lot.

“Wow,” you breathed at the view when you came to a stop at his side, squinting under the bright midday sun. “It’s beautiful up here.”

“I checked with your doctor and also with some medical studies and its safe for twenty minutes for us to just sit here and soak in the sun,” he said and you grinned, going over to the bench on the rooftop and sat down.

You then removed your cardigan and offered your arms out to the light. “Heavenly.”

“I thought you might like this.”

“I should have kissed you sooner if it would lead to this,” you teased as he sat down beside you. “I also have a regret from yesterday’s visit.”

“You do?”

Nodding, you scooted around and promptly laid your head in his lap, dangling your arms and legs out to the warmth from above. You peeked through an eye at his evident surprise from your move and giggled. “You blocked the sun from that side.”

“Oh, so this is merely strategic?”

“And more comfortable,” you admitted, nestling into his thigh some.

Changkyun smiled. “What was your regret?”

“You’ll think I’m mad.”

“Well, you’re certainly not normal,” he quipped and you whined outlandishly. Chuckling, he found himself brushing your hair away from your face so the sun could reach that too. You stilled, looking up at him.

“I like you.”

“I like you too,” he admitted with a shy smile, your own splitting your lips until you were grinning giddily.

“Would you like me even if I wasn’t sick? I’m sure as a medical professional you probably find what you see under the microscope more fascinating than my actual form but-”

“No, it’s not like that at all,” he cut in, still smoothing your hair back from your face. “I like you. Not your illness, not what I see from my work. I can’t deny that I’m invested in seeing the changes to your tests, but that’s just because I saw them before I met you in person. I was invested before I found you trying to soak in sun through a window.”

“Don’t remind me of that embarrassing moment,” you exclaimed, mortified. Throwing a hand over your face to hide your emotions, Changkyun pried it away and held it instead. Your expression evened out and you started to smile again. “You knew my name before you knew me. And you knew a lot more too, I guess.”

“I’d rather get to know you like this though.”

“Me too.”

You sat up suddenly, almost bashing into Changkyun’s chin in the process. Sheepishly flashing him an apologetic smile, you held up your index finger. “That’s right, the regret!”

“You mean not telling me how you felt yesterday wasn’t the regret?”

“I’m pretty sure when I kissed you, it showed you,” you countered and Changkyun rubbed at his neck with his other hand awkwardly. You then looked at him and grinned. “I wanted to wear that!”

“What?”

“Your lab coat!” you explained, tugging at the sleeve of it. “I was in the lab and I didn’t once put one on!”

“Well, you looked so pretty in your dress, why cover it up?”

“Because! Oh, you won’t understand because playing dress-up as a doctor isn’t fun like it is for everyone else who isn’t in the health sector professionally.”

“I’m not a doctor,” he reminded and you rolled your eyes.

“Still, you get to wear a white coat of importance! Let me try it on now.”

“What about the sun?” he asked and you stood up, bouncing around impatiently, almost pulling it off of him when he shrugged it down his shoulders. Slipping it on, you giggled triumphantly and spun around in it. Of course, it was too big and made your child-like request even more obvious. He laughed heartily then, the magic of the moment making his heart soar further for you.

You were right. For him, the lab coat was simply part of his work attire, nothing more. He saw no joy or importance in wearing it since he did so every workday. However, watching you enjoy it made it feel special.

Until you stumbled in your excitement, reaching for your head as you continued to lose your balance. Changkyun lurched towards you, catching you before the ground did. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Just a little dizzy. I guess I went too far.”

“Let’s get you back to your room and get a nurse check your stats, hm?” he offered and you didn’t argue, leaning into his side as he helped you back down the stairs. Once back in your ward, you slipped off his coat and climbed under the blankets, smiling weakly.

The transformation bothered him. Upstairs you were carefree and empowered. Now back under your stark white sheets, you looked weak and tiny. Changkyun blinked back his emotions.

You smiled sadly. “Looks like reality came back for us. Go do amazing things, Changkyun. You’re the one with the power to do so. I’m back where I belong now too.”

He was determined to find a way to make you better again.

“I’ve got it!”

“You have?!” Bora asked immediately, scooting backwards to his station and taking a look at his findings. She grinned. “You bloody have too.”

“Pathology needs to get onto this right away and then the doctors will act upon it, right?” he asked, hope building within his chest. She nodded once and he sent the files through to the team, marching out of the department and over to pathology to follow up.

It hadn’t been easy, and after being in the hospital for over three months now, Changkyun wished he had been able to source the correct abnormality in your tests faster. However, the main thing was they had a definite answer now. You had an autoimmune disease that had triggered the mysterious illness. And whilst knowing that didn’t mean you would get better and be healthier than before, it did give answers. And answers could lead to the right medication to support your health to improve and to help you live with your condition.

Answers meant discharging once better as well.

You stood in the doorway of the department, grinning brightly at Bora who welcomed you in. Changkyun hadn’t seen you yet, still focused on his work. But he stirred as soon as he heard your voice.

“Sorry to interrupt,” you said, looking around the department until you caught his gaze. You slowly grinned. “I just happened to be discharged today and I need to thank the technician who found the answer for my diagnosis.”

He didn’t care about the rest of his team jeering at him right now, getting up from his seat and approaching you. Of course, you already knew of his findings since your treatment began three weeks ago. However, you attempted to keep a straight face as Changkyun stopped in front of you.

“You see, when I was terribly sick, I ran into a lab technician who I told I’d go on a date with him if he helped me get better. I’m here to collect on that date.”

“I thought you were joking,” he murmured and you grinned.

“Oh no, if anything, I asked for the date because you were handsome, not holding onto any hope that you would actually help find the reason for my illness.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and Changkyun walked you out into the hallway, closing the door and the deafening noise out behind him.

He leaned in closer. “Well, I guess I do deserve a reward for my hard work.”

“When can you leave?”

“I think I have some extra hours up my sleeve that I can use to leave work now.”

“Oh good because I want to go on a very long date with you.”

“How long?”

“How much time can you give me?”

Changkyun’s lips were so close to yours now, he merely hummed and you shivered with delight. “How about as long as you want.”

“I’ll be greedy, you know. I’ll want all of your time.”

“I have to work,” he mentioned sadly and you nodded.

“And I have a lot of therapy to attend.”

“But outside of those hours?” he wondered and you pressed into him, kissing him with demand.

It wasn’t his first or even his second kiss with you. And Changkyun knew it wouldn’t be his last either. However, it was one he knew he’d remember forever, the way you tasted so sweet from pure happiness to be leaving the hospital and with him as well.

Finally, you stepped back just enough to catch your breath and answered. “Outside of work and therapy, I hope you can give me all your time. I don’t want to stop repaying you for the rest of my life.”

“Can I ask a question?” he breathed and you nodded. “Did you really mean it about wanting to date me from the first day you saw me?”

“Now that would be telling.”

“So it was a joke!” he whined and you giggled, stepping up on your toes to kiss him again.

“No, I did think you were handsome. I just didn’t believe I’d get this lucky. A cure and a boyfriend. What more could a girl ask for?”

_________________

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#kwritersworldnet #im changkyun #changkyun fiction #changkyun fluff #changkyun romance #changkyun au #monsta x #monsta x fiction #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fluff #monsta x romance #monsta x au #pwyl; monx hospital #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop romance #kpop fluff #changkyun fanfic

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princessjungeun · 4 years

Text

Sunshine on A Cloudy Day: Sana x Reader

tw// chronic illness, hospitals, needles, mention of cancer

it’s a high school au btw

this is based on my personal experience. pls be respectful as it wasn’t easy for me to write this :)

Your alarm played through your room, waking you up immediately. You pressed snooze at least seven times before actually getting up and dressing yourself for the long day that was to come.

You pulled on your favorite t shirt and pajama pants before tugging on a sweatshirt. You checked the time before packing your bag, making sure to add your laptop and phone along with their chargers, snacks, socks, favorite stuffed animal, and a few extra school assignments.

By the time you made it downstairs your mom was already waiting for you. Quickly she handed you an apple and muffin to eat on the car ride.

“Okay sweetie I have a meeting this morning from 8 until 11. I’ll bring you lunch, just text or call and tell me what you want.” Your mother spoke not taking her eyes off the road as she drove.

Your mom pulled out her wallet and handed you two familiar cards, telling you to tuck them away until someone inside asked for them.

“Alright sweet girl I’ll be back soon, if they have any issues call me and I can sort it out.” Your mom kissed your forehead before letting you out the car, watching you walk inside before driving away.

Your feet felt heavy as the familiar smell of saline and disinfectant filled your nose. You grabbed a disposable mask off the lobby desk and put it on.

As you started to walk towards the elevator a woman called after you “maam!”

You turned around and pulled down the mask “don’t worry I’m still a minor. I’m going to the 4th floor.”

The woman nodded and gave you a thumbs up with a smile before turning back to check in adults.

It was still early so not many people were in the hallways, except the emergency wing. It is always packed no matter what.

You made your way to the fourth floor hoping if you wakes slower you just wouldn’t have to go. But that wasn’t how it worked and you knew it.

When you entered the waiting room you found a seat by the window. The dull grey sky offered no source of light, leaving you to rely on the fluorescent ceiling panels for brightness.

“Miss Y/LN?” The woman at the desk called your name, waving you over.

“Good morning sweetie haven’t seen you for a few weeks now.” She smiled as she spoke her tone was calming but also happy.

She asked “you got the insurance card for me?” You nodded and handed her one of the cards waiting for her to tell you how much you owed for today’s visit.

“And you have a $30 copay today, would you like to take care of that now?” You nodded and handed her the second card your mom gave you earlier. She finished checking you in “alright they’ll call you back in a bit.”

You sat down and pulled out your phone knowing that your girlfriend was actually awake now.

Y/N: hey

Sana 💞: good morning jagi

Sana 💞: you have an appointment today right?

Y/N 💘: yeah...kinda just wanna go back home

Sana 💞: it’s okay i’ll come over after school and make it better

Y/N 💘: you don’t have to i’ll be fine, this isn’t new

Sana💞: no girlfriend obligations

Sana 💞: i’m coming and you can’t stop me

Y/N 💘: okay fine

Y/N 💘: i’ll text you later, they’re calling me back now

•

It didn’t take long for your nurse to call you back and get you situated in a treatment room. There was only one other patient along with you. It was a little girl no more than 3 years old. You didn’t know exactly what she was getting but your heart broke at the thought considering what department you were in, Cancer and Blood Disorders.

It took 3 hours for your IV bag to get delivered to your floor so you turned on the tv hoping something good was on. You settled on Moana, the only thing that wasn’t the news.

“Alright love we just got your bag, you know the drill, vitals every ten minutes for the first 30 then i’ll come every hour. We should have you out in 5 hours if everything goes well okay?” Your favorite nurse Haseul explained to you quickly what was going to happen.

You found yourself in this same spot with her every couple weeks so she knew how you liked things to go.

“So how’ve you been missy? How’s Sana?” She poked your side getting you to smile for the first time today.

You told her “she’s really good...I haven’t seen her in three weeks though. She got sick for two and she had finals this week, but today is her last one.”

Haseul checked “so you didn’t see her when she was sick right? You know you can’t be around that with your anemia.”

You nodded softly remembering why you were even in the hospital in the first place. What was once a slight iron deficiency quickly turned into a chronic anemia that couldn’t be healed with oral supplements. Doctors had no other option than to put you on infusion treatments which sucked.

Although people were definitely going through worse, especially in this department, that didn’t take away from what you dealt with. The constant fatigue, dizziness, falling asleep in class, hair loss, being malnourished, all of it a constant reminder that you weren’t like most.

“Y/N!” Haseul snapped her fingers in front of your face.

You blinked rapidly “sorry what?”

Haseul responded “it’s okay I just needed to make sure you didn’t pass out on me. I need to put on your heart monitor.” She placed the stickers on your chest before grabbing the IV kit she placed on your lap earlier.

“Alright in your hand or arm today?” Haseul knows you prefer the arm but she always asks in case you change your mind.

You simply pointed to your arm before extending it so she could access your vein. Finding your vein was no problem, as you still had a raised bump from the last time you got treatment.

“Okay...and one two- there you go.” Haseul secured the IV with a Tergaderm, which was weirdly enough your favorite part of this whole process.

She left you and cane back every ten minutes to check your vitals before disappearing to help another patient for a bit.

You ended up spending the first two hours dozing in and out of sleep, waiting for your mother to call you. Eventually you did in fact wake up, and to the smell of your favorite food.

Your mother sat in a chair next to you on her phone talking to who you assume is a coworker. Quickly she hung up the phone so she could talk to you instead.

“Hey hows it going so far?” She asked with slight concern.

You told her “ fine just sleeping to pass time that’s all.”

She smiled before handing you a bag of food hoping it’d bring some form of joy to your day.

•

You both ended up enjoying an early lunch together but unfortunately she had to leave the hospital for an emergency meeting. It wasn’t unusual for this to happen so you were used to it, she’d simply be back at the end of your appointment.

Your phone buzzed next to you, pulling your attention away from your mother’s absence.

Sana💞: how are you doing so far?

Y/N💘: it’s good. I’m watching Aladdin now :)

Sana💞: i wanna be there with you rn instead of in math class

Y/N💘: your day is almost over then you can see me

Y/N💘: think of it that way

Sana💞: yeah but i still wish i was with you

Y/N💘: soon

Sana💞: ok fine. i have to go i love you

Y/N💘: i love you too babe

Around the third hour you became irritable and ended up walking the hallways with Haseul. She was honestly the only thing that made you feel normal in this place.

When the two of you got back you were tired and worn out from the walk. It didn’t seem like a long distance to most but you definitely were feeling it.

You found your spot back in the treatment room, sitting in your chair and reclining it back. Just as you were going to close your eyes Haseul called your name.

“Y/N. You’ve got a visitor would you like her to come back?” Haseul didn’t bother to open the curtain to tell you who it was so being the curious girl you were, you allowed it.

Sana walked in with a smile on her face, it was like your sunshine on a cloudy day. It was clear she had just finished school as she was still in her uniform, and she was wearing her backpack.

“Ho- Sana? Why? How did you even get in here?” You asked her through a laugh.

Sana responded “nobody stopped me downstairs and I know you’re on this floor. The lady at the desk outside was very nice too!”

You immediately sat up, not realizing that was a bad idea given your position. Closing your eyes tight you tapped your finger on the arm rest of your chair, waiting for the dizziness to stop.

When you opened your eyes you saw Sana in front of you, a frown on her face. It broke her heart to see you, her girlfriend, in this state. You always tried to make it seem like you weren’t sick but it was very obvious that you still were no matter how much you pretended otherwise.

She placed a blanket over you before running her thumb along your face and softly saying “my baby girl...”

You smiled at her knowing it might possibly make her less sad but it didn’t do much.

She could tell you were tired so she told you “it’s fine just sleep.”

By the time you woke up it was time for you to leave. Haseul had flushed your IV and took your vitals for the last time while you were asleep.

Your mother was downstairs in the parking garage waiting for you and Sana so you could go home.

It was clear by the look on your face that you felt nauseous, a common side effect of your treatment, from the second you stood up.

Sana gathered your things and help you put on your sweatshirt and bag before you two headed downstairs.

You interlocked you’re hand with hers as you felt dizzier with every step you took. She could tell you were having a hard time but she knows how much you try to hide it. When you both made it to the car you fell asleep almost instantly.

Sana helped you to your room, quickly helping you to bed before stealing some of your clothes to wear for herself.

You sleepily held out your arms for her, a soft whimper leaving your lips. She crawled under the covers and you immediately clung to her. You were shivering as if you were standing in snow with only a bathing suit on. Your hands and fingers started turning blue, indicating you body temperature was dropping, a side effect of treatments.

Sana pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head as your fingers curled around her shirt, holding her close.

It only took ten seconds before you started sobbing into her chest. As much as you wanted to pretend you were fine and not in pain, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Breaking down in her arms you sobbed until you fell asleep. She felt terrible knowing there was nothing she could do to fix it, but she knew that you appreciated her being there for you.

You only slept for an hour before you woke up in a cold sweat. Your t shirt clung to your back as you kicked off your blankets seeking some sort of way to cool yourself down. That did little to nothing so you scrambled to the bathroom hoping cold water would do the trick.

Sana knew this was yet another side effect of your treatment, a high fever. Your cheeks burned red as you splashed your face with water in the sink. Much to your relief it worked and you were finally able to get back in bed with her.

Your girlfriend held you in her arms tight as if she never wanted to let go.

“Thank you...” You softly spoke as she drew small circles along the small of your back.

“For what?” She asked curiously.

You mumbled “everything...just everything you do for me.”

She giggled softly “you know i’d do anything for you baby.”

Mumbling softly you told her “i love you.”

She responded quickly “i love you too.”

Letting your eyes close you further melted into her embrace as she tightened her arms around you. In the back of your mind you were reminded why you always said i love you before you fell asleep. Besides the fact that you did in fact love her, but if you happened not to wake up tomorrow, the last thing she heard from you was those three words.

Nevertheless you hoped and prayed you’d wake up in the morning to see her smiling face.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #twice fluff #twice scenarios #twice imagine #minatozaki sana #twice sana

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mandelene · 4 years

Note

Arthur is the one who gets sick and the rest of the FACE family freak out? Whether he’s seriously ill or not is up to you. Bonus if he adamantly denies that he’s sick bc I need a character to project onto 🤣. Have a good week! 💕

Here it is! And I hope you have a wonderful week as well! 💖

Why One Shouldn’t Marry a Stubborn Englishman: A Case Study Word Count: 1424

Although Arthur barely touches his dinner on a Friday evening in mid-October, Francis doesn’t immediately see a reason to worry. His husband’s appetite is finicky at best, and there are days when he is simply too caught up in his own mind to remember to eat. It’s relatively normal behavior, and sometimes, if he pushes around his dinner, he compensates by having a large breakfast the following day.

But then Saturday morning comes and he doesn’t finish his eggs and toast either. Arthur flips through his weekly edition of The Economist, and pretends not to see the look of disapproval on Francis’s face. And that’s when the worry in Francis’s heart begins to set in.

He doesn’t even take a sip of tea. It’s tea! Arthur can’t live without his tea. Tea runs through the man’s veins!

“Is something wrong? You haven’t been eating or drinking anything,” Francis points out, and Alfred and Matthew, who are also seated at the kitchen table, stop talking about their English project and shift their attention to a now flustered Arthur.

“I’m fine. Not hungry,” Arthur replies shortly, looking down at his magazine and away from them.

Alfred gives his father a little nudge on the shoulder and adds, “You’ve been acting kinda weird. Are you sick?”

“You do look a little pale, mon amour.”

“I didn’t know it was a crime to not be hungry,” Arthur snaps, rising from the table. He snatches his magazine and swivels around to leave the kitchen, but that’s when a quiet gasp suddenly escapes him, and he grabs his upper abdomen with one hand. His face betrays a pained grimace, and the hand holding The Economist tightens into a fist.

The scene triggers alarm bells in Francis’s mind. He sweeps over to Arthur and tries to feel his forehead, but Arthur waves him off and pulls away, insisting that he’s fine and “it’s just indigestion.”

No one is convinced he’s all right, but Arthur’s stubbornness knows no bounds, and confronting him whenever anything is wrong with him, no matter how big or small, always proves to be a challenge. Matthew offers to get him an antacid from the medicine cabinet, but Arthur rejects that offer and chooses to hide away in his and Francis’s bedroom instead to brood.

“That definitely didn’t look like indigestion,” Matthew whispers once he’s out of earshot.

“I know. I’m going to have to fight him for a real answer, as usual,” Francis sighs as he’s picking up Arthur’s plate and bringing it over to the bin. He doesn’t like being wasteful, but if Arthur truly is sick, then it’s best to toss his breakfast away. There’s no chance he’s going to eat it later, and he could be contagious. “Don’t worry, boys, I’ll talk to him. He needs a little coaxing sometimes. He can be childish and moody when he’s unwell.”

“Doctors make the worst patients,” Alfred notes.

“You could say that again, mon lapin.”

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

The denial continues for the rest of the day. When Francis tries to pester Arthur into having something for lunch and suggests some soup or saltines, he is met with hostility yet again. “I’ve already said I’m not bloody hungry.”

And then, the vomiting begins. While they’re all watching a movie in the living room later that afternoon, Arthur abruptly hurries to the bathroom, holding his stomach once more. Francis trails after him, and Alfred and Matthew come along to watch the drama unfold as well, equally as concerned.

“Oh, mon cher,” Francis murmurs while Arthur retches, rubbing his husband’s back. With his other hand, he finally feels his forehead and is not at all shocked at the warmth he feels under his fingers. “You’ve caught some sort of stomach bug, haven’t you?”

When Arthur is done and has flushed the toilet, he turns to the sink and rinses his mouth. Clearly, he’s too exhausted and miserable now to be in a position to argue because when Francis takes him by the arm and guides him to bed, he follows him without complaint.

“I’ll bring some sparkling water. It always helps me when I feel nauseous,” Matthew offers, and Francis gives him an appreciative nod.

“You always tell us ‘rest and fluids’ are the most important things when you’re sick,” Alfred reminds his father, but Arthur merely lets out a small groan as he lies down.

If this is a stomach bug, then it must be severe because Francis can tell by the expression on Arthur’s face that he’s in a great deal of pain—more pain than one would be in from a simple stomach flu or food poisoning. His right hand is wrapped around his upper abdomen yet again, and his eyes are screwed shut. There are beads of sweat on his brow, and when Francis gently pulls Arthur’s hand away to touch his stomach, Arthur lets out a sharp cry that makes him jump.

Francis doesn’t think he’s ever seen him in this much agony. Even while ill, Arthur hardly ever lets on how poorly he’s feeling. For him to be in such a state…It’s frightening.

“He doesn’t look good, Papa,” Alfred says, biting his lip.

“No, he doesn’t…I think I should take him to the emergency room.”

At that, Arthur opens his glassy green eyes and grumbles through gritted teeth, “No.”

“I can’t look at you when you’re like this. You need a doctor, mon amour.”

“…Don’t need a damned doctor…”

“Arthur. Be reasonable.”

Matthew returns with the promised glass of sparkling water, and hands it to Arthur.

It appears the idea of consuming any liquid makes Arthur turn green with nausea, and he places the glass on the bedside table with another groan.

“Boys, can you grab one of your father’s coats and a pair of his shoes? I need to get him dressed—I’m taking him to the hospital.”

Arthur shoots him a fierce scowl. “Absolutely not.”

“I’ve been your husband long enough to know when something warrants a hospital visit. Can you stand?”

“Of course I can stand, I’m not—”

But when he gets up, the pain flares, and he nearly doubles over. All of the color drains from his face, and Francis has him sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Okay, okay. That’s enough. The boys and I will help you to the car. Do you want some ibuprofen or something before we go?”

“No…”

He should have seen that response coming.

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

It was the right call to bring him in—that’s what Arthur’s nurse in the ER tells Francis and the boys.

Apparently, the silly oaf is severely dehydrated, so he is quickly started on IV fluids and strong painkillers. It’s assumed he could have appendicitis and that the pain just hasn’t localized to the lower right side of his abdomen yet. But then, a CT scan reveals that his appendix is fine. His pancreas, however, is not.

Acute pancreatitis. That’s the verdict. The doctor says it was likely caused by the medication he’s been taking for his arthritis—azathioprine. The diagnosis is enough to have him admitted because it’s decided he will have to be on a course of IV antibiotics to clear up the infection.

“Honestly, only you could have an infected pancreas and claim it was indigestion,” Francis chides him, but he can’t be too angry when he knows Arthur must be feeling awful enough as is. “Fortunately, you should feel all better in a few days, you big idiot.”

Alfred doesn’t hesitate to scold him as well. “You can’t make us worry like that, Dad. You should have said something sooner.”

“Yeah, no one should have to suffer in silence until they get so sick that they can’t move,” Matthew says, holding Arthur’s left hand, which is where his IV is. “It sounds like it could have gotten a lot worse if left untreated.”

“I thought I had it under control,” is Arthur’s lame defense.

“Well, hopefully, you’ll think twice next time and ask someone for help. Now get well soon, all right? You know how much I dislike hospitals.”

“Thank you for putting up with me.”

Francis smiles and kisses his nose, causing Arthur to wrinkle his face. “Anytime, mon amour. Anytime…I love you. Now, rest. You need it. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Given that he’s already been sapped of most of his energy, falling asleep proves to be an easy task for him, and he’s out in no time.

What a troublesome man.

#hetalia #aph england #aph france #aph america #aph canada #aph face family #drabbles #sick arthur

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daaziscoolbesties · 3 years

Text

i yearn for one(1) thing only, and that is to have a nice, simplistic, cartoonish artstyle. an artstyle that doesnt rely on anatomy, but the "movement" of the drawing, if you get what i mean.

i dont want realistic proportions and traditional colors and basic poses and gradient shading, i want funky lil dudes in funky poses with funky styles littering my sketchbook :( but alas i havent figured out how to develop that kind of style yet, my brain wants anatomy to look nice but also i dont want to draw eyes. i dont want to take time out of my day to learn how to draw lips i want to draw a line that extends past the characters face. i dont want all my characters to have pointy chins with curved cheeks i want their heads to be round and friend-like or full of sharp edges depending on their personalities and styles. i want to give them all not-quite human ears, blob feet, simple faces, but at the same time i want enough detail to convey the story or emotion im trying to tell.

ive spent so much time recently agonizing over how to use 3d model websites, using real-life references and tracing over them for practice, color-picking from real images to try and do realism and failing miserably, but you know whats easier than that? funky little dudes. little dudes who do not care if their legs are too long or their hair is too bouncy. i dont want my characters to look human.

ive spent enough time on the artfight website to realize that most people who classify their characters as "human" have the most basic ass designs (no offense to people who like basic human designs its just not my thing) or its like dnd-medieval style outfits which i cant draw for the life of me (ive tried). again no offense to people who actively enjoy and draw characters like that. i just need my dudes to have that certain,,, off-ness to them. tails are cool. wings are swag (especially if they arent even like,, fully attached,, ), elf ears are so wonderful to me no matter how much theyre overused, horns are so much fun to draw, and colors!! i have no knowledge in the color theory department so this works great for me!! the only thing i really know is dont shade with black, other than that i just colorpick from references usually but i dont want to do that!! i want the colors to hurt people's eyes but in a satisfying way. like the character's design is so nice to look at that you dont mind your eyes hurting a bit. like how im enjoying writing this post even though its 2 am and the brightness on my computer wont go any lower.

and then another thing ive noticed from being on the artfight website is that a lot of people classify their characters that are anthro/have anthro features under humanoids/monsters. like i made a google form to find some people to attack and someone sent me in a character with some sort of animal (wolf? idk) arms and legs. like dude!! peak character design i love her. but me personally? i cant draw that shit, its so hard for me. i tried a while back and its just Not my thing. nothing against furries i just. cant. and i dont want to either.

and i got another submission that i accidentally deleted that was like full anthro/wolf-like like my comrade,,, i cannot draw animals what makes you think i can draw an animal who acts like a human lmao. i can do like. very basic tails, and also animal ears but i cant do the arms and legs and such i just dont know the anatomy, and i know i was talking about how i dont want to care about anatomy but i feel like for anthros you really do need to know at least basic animal anatomy so you know how the limbs look and shit and i dont have that knowledge and dont feel like gaining it.

and then there were some submissions that i absolutely adored. there was one that like, was vaguely human shaped but definitely was not a human. they had a dark-ish lavender colored skin and horns and tusks and like goat ears and a sorta fluffy tail with spikes on it and they had wings and such and they were such a pleasure to draw i love them. and they had a fairly simple outfit too, nothing too complicated. and then i also enjoy object head characters, theyre so neato to me. i got one of those and i really wish i had the motivation to work on it cause it looks so fun.

i want to make funky characters but id have nothing to do with them because the only book i ever tried writing (key word tried - never got past planning it out) had strictly human characters in it, and most of the books i read are humans/humans with powers in situations specific to them so id have no idea what lore to make with the dudes. assuming i have the motivation to make lore and backstory because honestly i just really enjoy character designing its super duper fun.

(side note a song about trucks doing the deed came on just now and its interrupted my flow, apologies).

i only have three actual characters right now. one is an original roleplay oc whos design is literally athletic shorts, an oversized long sleeved grey sweatshirt, long purple hair, and demon horns. the second one is my persona whos design some sorta medival knight outfit kinda thing? but not ugly it looks really cool (idk one of my friends designed it bc i won some contest from him but the drawing was on a super small scale so idrk the details,,,) with a plague doctor mask and crown, and shoulder length wavy brown hair, dyed bright pink at the end. and then my last one im not too comfortable using other places because theyre a character my friend is using in the story hes writing, and thats really the only place theyve been used. but theyre easily my favorite and im already writing a ton so ill talk about them too.

they're a sorta elf species thing from another planet, with pale green skin and pointed ears. they also have a tail, its like,, super thin, but with a feathery bit at the end. probably not the texture of a feather but i dont know how else to describe it. they have short, curly, almost-draco-malfoy-blonde hair that when it gets too long they can put in a man bun. their eyesight is kinda shitty so when they got to earth, they were exploring some supply closets around the airship. drop off area. thing. like airport but for rocketships and also fancier. yeah. they were exploring that area and found a nice big pair of round glasses with grey frames. and they also found a cowboy-style hat and a sharpie so they wrote their name on the underside of the brim of the hat and stole the hat and glasses (but left the sharpie in the supply closet).

yeah theyre my favorite, my absolute beloved, my child, so cool. i want more characters like them but with maybe a bit more snazzier designs. theyre super cool and all but they could have more pizzazz if they werent in a story where its too late to give them more pizzazz. i just want to be able to give my characters thigh-high boots with a bunch of buckles and fluffy hair with tons of accessories crammed in and abnormally large and long ears that can harbor many piercings and horns that can hold rings on them and special little details on their outfits like who knows what but i dont have any characters to do that too, so i have to make them from scratch, which is always hard especially when you have artblock.

and i also have like 17 characters i need to fully draw, line, and maybe color for artfight before august 1st. so i dont know. i have many things to do and plenty of time to do it but instead i spend my time halfway watching repetitive youtube videos that get boring or sleeping all damn day because i stay up too late doing things like this or i just do nothing at all and its tiring and frustrating but i also feel nothing about it like theres no consequence if i dont do it besides you know. not doing it, not gaining that experience, not making something i enjoy.

so i should do it but i dont for whatever reason, i think its called executive dysfunction but im not sure. this post started out very differently than it ended and i said somewhere up there that i was writing this at 2 am but now its almost 3. this is so many words why couldnt i have put this energy into something productive

#long post #sorry its so messy but like i said its almost 3 am and i dont want to go back and format all this #i might come back and make it look nicer in the morning #maybe not who knows #i just checked and this is 1.5k words what the hell

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celosiaa · 4 years

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steady, love (chapter 7)

Summary:

Martin is not doing well.

Jon is there with him through every step.

(because I became obsessed ™ with the idea of Martin dealing with the physical and emotional aftermath of leaving the Lonely)

Chapters 1-7 are up on ao3 under the same username!

(The EYE speaks in glitched text. Jon’s thoughts are italicized.)

WARNINGS: illness, hospitals, medical talk, addiction mention

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

P̘ͮnͯͧ͋̏e͓̳̭͗ͩu͔̲ͥ̽̿ͯ̾m̲̑̉̿̏̅ͨ̿̔o̭͚͗̏̉̂̌ͪ̿͗n̪̟̫̩͉̍̓ͤ̈̿̂i͙̥͕̱̯̿ͮ͋̄ͣ̄̀a͎͔̮̻͗͊ͣ̓ͯ̄͛͒͑ ̝͇͍̯̫̺̋ͫͯ̍́ͤ̄ͤS̹͍͓̪̠̙̯̟̥̔ͬ̑̋ͪ̚e̻͉̳͈͕͔̟͍̲̖ͭ̈́̎̿ͦv͈͓̼̲̭͍̖̲͐̒̿͊ͬ̉ͭͅe̻̫̞̬̬̤̯̹ͨ̃ͤͩͤ̉ͦ̈r̪͚̙͖̩͉͓͙ͤ͐̆̽̑̊͒̚i̼̘̖̼͕̫̦̻̩̙̬͐̓ͣ̇̚t̤̙̹͉̭ͭ̄̔ͭ͊̍̓͛͋̚ẙ̼͙̩̻͈͙̈́́̒ͣ̿̋ͣ̚ ͙̺̱̣̪̒ͩ̋͑ͫͤͭ̓̌Î̺̼͓͇̖͖͋͒ͥ̓͋̇ṇ͇͎̓̿̄͛̐̂̽̿̓d͚̤̩̹ͤ̍̈ͭ͐̄͗e̫̺͓̺̤̺͋̒͋̂x̖̟̦͊͂͂̾̓ ͈ͨ̈̾ͣ̿̅Ŝ̗̗̈́̇c͓ͪͧ̓o̭̜re:

aͦ ̀c̤̏l̠ͪi̻͍n͉̿̋i͖ͨ̉c̘ͬͬa̗̖ͅl̹͊͂̈ ͉̊̉̔ẗ̗̥̣ö̻̳̓̄o͒͛̋̈́̚l̘̳͂̃͒ ͎̋͌ͪ͋f̙̖͑ͥ̒̍ọ̼̭ͭ̈̃r͎̥̪̓̏̇ ͖̞͍̐ͫ̀m̱̣̖̤̎ͯͩe̮̫̙ͯ͐̚ͅȧ͉̥ͨ̂ͧͣs̮̟̗͇ͧ͒̅u̥̥͕͔͕̔̾r͙͍̘ͨ̈́͗̂ḯ̠͙̹̘͒̍n̗̐̌̎̋́ͭ̊g͚̝̜̳̬̈́ͦ̂ ̘̗̗̓͂ͭ͊͑t͓͙̯̩͒͌̾͌h̲̳̝͓̊̓̆̚ẻ̥͚͉͙̑͒̑ ̫̤͊ͦͥ͊̄̈́l̮̦̯̏̎̽̈́ͥỉ̟̖̲ͯ̿̓̊k̜̬̮̙ͬ̑͂̂ḛ̭͕̽͊̄ͦͅl͇̺̼̤̿ͦ͒̚ï̠̙̮̪̠̓̎h̯̱͔͖ͭ͗̉ọ͖̝̘̔̊ͮo̳̬̬̩ͧͩ͋d̲̦̩̰̿̍͒ ̲ͨ̀̾͋͋ͩo̤͖̤͋ͨͭ̚f͌ͥ̈͂̄̅̈́ ̞ͨͭͬͭ̚m̮̪̄̆͋̔o̬̰̺̤ͥ̈́r̘̳̈́̔̐ͅt͕̳͇̎̉a͓̤̫͕ͪl̤͍̰͋ͮì̫̠̂͒t͙̥ͧͥẙ̤ͦ̓ ͓͇̺̻f̤́͂r̼͑̏o̦̱̘m͐̓ ̲ͮp̙̀ṉėu͉monia.

A̮ ̞s̬ͨc̥͈ǒ͆r͈͂e̪ͤ̚ ̼ͬͯiͭ̾̑s͙͗̌̓ ̮̪̝͙g̻̿̊͛i̹͛̒ͬv̯̄̿͊ͦe͚̺ͣͨͦn̙̹͂ͤͩ ̠͙̝̊͒b͊̇̔̆̉a̝̰ͧ́ͨs͕͖̝͗̌ḛ̣̥̄ͣḓ̥͌̄ͩ ͚̙͈͊ͯu̘ͪ̋̊̂p͕̥ͫͫ̚ȯ͖̙̒ͬn̗̓ͮ̎̿ ̘̽̈́̊͂t͙̞̻̯̏ḫ͉̰͕͚e̼̫̳̩̤ ͇̐͆͆̅f̓ͭ̄͛ő̜̯̫l̹̉ͪ̂l̩̘̻ͦo͔͕̊w̯̞̃i̇̍̈́n̞̾ͩg͙͒ ̻̊f̻̚a̽c̰t̄ors:

God, shut UP.

Jon buries his face in his hands, the familiar hunger-driven brain fog beginning to settle in. It’s been nearly thirty minutes since Martin had his x-ray, and he’s been dozing ever since. Left with nothing but the silence for company, Jon’s head has been spinning with information that he doesn’t want, he doesn’t need, he doesn’t understand.

He rubs at his eyes.

Christ, I am exhausted.

Before he can sink further into his misery, there is a sharp rapping on the door, and Jon is forced to pick up his head and push wearily forward. Martin’s eyes flutter open along with the door, which reveals Aaron, cheery as ever.

“Hi again, how are we doing in here?” he says, flashing a wide smile in Martin’s direction.

Eyes still half-lidded with sleep, Martin gives yet another thumbs up in response. At this, Jon cannot help but roll his eyes and sigh, sharing a sidelong look with the doctor. Aaron returns the look, nodding at Jon in acknowledgment before he continues.

“That good, eh? Well, the results are in, and—drumroll please…”

With a flourish, he slides Martin’s x-ray in front of the lightboard and points at dense-looking white spots on Martin’s lungs.

“You’ve got a pretty significantly sized infection in your left lung, with a small spot of infection in your right. Which means that it’s a double pneumonia, and a pretty nasty one at that. But you knew that already, I’d wager.”

Martin lets out a faint sigh, and nods. Seeming to sense his growing fatigue, Aaron lowers himself to sitting on a rolling stool, and turns to address both Martin and Jon in a softer voice.

“What happens next is this: we need to get that fever down a bit and get you some antibiotics. So we’re going to keep you here for a few hours while we get you those, as well as an IV to get you some liquids, and see what happens from there. If you seem to be doing better, we’ll send you home with oral antibiotics and oxygen, in case you need it. If not, we’re going to have to send you to the hospital in Aberdeen for treatment tonight, since I can’t keep anyone overnight here. Does that all make sense?”

Sending a glance towards Martin, Jon squeezes his hand to elicit some sort of response, but he merely continues to stare at the doctor, blinking owlishly. Jon clears his throat.

“Err, yes—that makes perfect sense, thank you,” Jon replies for him, certain that Martin had not taken in anything that had just been said.

“Happy to help,” Aaron replies, shooting Jon a lopsided grin. “Anything else I can do for you in the meantime?”

Jon takes a moment to think, watching as Martin’s eyes droop closed once again.

Basira. She’ll want to know.

“Actually, yes—is there a phone I can use here?”

“’Course, just take a right down the hall. Can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.”

Aaron stands from his stool then, clapping a hand on Jon’s shoulder.

“No trouble! Isla—Martin’s nurse—will be around to get all that stuff to you. I’m just a shout away if you need me, alright?”

“Right. Thank you, Aaron.”

He dims the lights as he exits, closing the door behind him. Turning his attention back to Martin, still drifting into fever-induced slumber, Jon takes up his left hand again, holding it in both of his own. Slowly, nervously, he begins working his fingers over Martin’s palm, clumsily imitating Martin’s well-practiced massage technique. He looks down at his own hands, scowling at the scars peppered across them, faded and pale against the dark of his skin.

My hands are too rough, this is foolish.

He is proven definitively wrong when Martin lets out a soft sigh of contentment, fogging up the mask instantly.

Jon grins from ear to ear and keeps going.

(13:37)

His left knee aches as he walks unevenly toward the hall phone, old injury pulling at him in the wake of half-carrying Martin to the car that morning.

Should have brought my brace.

Martin has been sleeping on and off for the past few hours, rousing only to cough or smile pleasantly at Isla when she comes by to tend to him. He’s been set up with IV fluids and fever reducers since noon, and his first dose of antibiotics went down with little issue. Left only with the prospect of waiting to see what happens, Jon finally feels comfortable enough to leave a sleeping Martin in the room for a while to call Basira, grab some coffee, find a bite to eat, and—

No, you will NOT smoke today. Not an option.

Reaching the phone, Jon hesitates for a moment, mulling over what to say before finally dialing Basira’s number. She lets it ring out a few times before picking up brusquely.

“Hussain speaking.”

“Basira? It’s Jon.”

“Jon? I don’t recognize this number. Where are you? What’s going on?” she asks rapidly, voice ticking up in concern.

“I’m calling from the village clinic. You said to call if Martin got worse, and…well, he has.”

“Shit. What happened? Is he alright?”

Jon sighs exhaustedly, running a hand through his hair. He can’t quite keep his voice from shaking.

“I’m…not sure, yet. They’re keeping him under observation for the rest of the day to see if he needs to go to the hospital.”

“Jesus.”

“He was running a fever of nearly 40 this morning and sounded like…well, like he couldn’t breathe, so I took him here for help. Apparently he’s got pneumonia. He’s fallen asleep, so…I thought I’d call to let you know.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“Y…yeah.”

Jon’s voice breaks roughly.

“How are you holding up?” she asks, in what might be the gentlest tone Jon has ever heard from her.

A lump forms immediately in his throat, making his eyes sting and his vision swim at the edges.

Pull it together, come on.

Tipping his head back for a moment, he blinks away the tears and takes a damp, shuddering breath that must have been audible on the other end.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” she soothes, her voice nearly a whisper.

Jon clutches at the receiver, as if it will somehow bring her closer.

“I-I’m fine, Basira. Just…just tired. And worried,” he says, voice thick.

“And hungry?”

“…yes.”

She sighs at this, pulling her phone away from her face for a moment. Jon braces for her tone to be harsh upon her return, but to his relief, it remains decidedly softened— understanding, even.

“The statements should be there by tomorrow. So there’s something good, at least.”

“R-right. Something good.”

Silence falls for a moment before Basira continues, her voice returning to her usual matter-of-fact register.

“He’s going to be alright, Jon. Even if he does have to go to the hospital. He’ll recover, and then you can get back to your usual hopeless pining.”

At this, Jon can’t resist huffing out a laugh.

“Well…it’s not so hopeless anymore, actually.”

She gasps in shock.

“You’re joking! You actually went for it, then?”

“Not-not exactly, it just sort of…happened. I don’t know exactly how, but—yeah. It’s…good. Really good, actually,” he stammers, unable to keep his smile from bleeding into his tone.

“God, listen to you. You’re like an enamored schoolboy,” she replies fondly.

Jon sputters in mock-indignation, pulling a hearty laugh from Basira.

“Well, I’m happy for you both. You deserve something lovely, for once.”

“So do you, Basira,” Jon replies softly.

“…thanks.”

They allow the silence hang for a moment. Basira then exhales sharply before continuing.

“Well, enough of the mushy shit. Let me know what the doctors say, alright? And tell Martin I hope he feels better soon.”

“I will. Call you later, then.”

“You’d better.”

She hangs up on him, as always.

(14:43)

Half-empty coffee and a bagel in hand, Jon walks back to Martin’s room from where he had been standing outside, fiddling with an unlit cigarette for the better part of an hour. It had taken everything in him, but he had managed not to light it, instead walking back through the clinic doors and deciding to snag some food on the way back to the room. He cannot help the guilt welling up inside—for his struggle, for the way his hands are shaking, for bringing the cigarettes with him in the first place—

He opens the door to see Martin smiling back at him, and it all fades away.

Cheeks flushed and face pale, Martin is half-sitting in up in bed now, the heat no longer rolling off him with such vicious intensity as before. His oxygen mask has now been replaced with a nasal cannula, allowing Jon a clear picture of the sunny smile Martin offers so freely.

Something warm tugs at Jon’s heart, and a wide grin spreads across his face.

“Well, well, look who’s got an upgrade,” he says lightly, stepping toward the bedside.

Martin’s own smile widens at this, and he reaches out for Jon’s hand as he sets his coffee and bagel on a nearby table. Scooting his chair closer before sitting, Jon gently takes Martin’s hand in both of his own, closing his eyes and lowering his lips to the back of Martin’s palm.

3̙̩8͖̓͊.̘̹̎7͖̏.͙

At last.

Jon smiles against Martin’s hand for a moment before looking back up.

“Your temperature’s down,” he says, trying not to sound as dizzy with relief as he feels.

Martin nods quickly before clearing his throat, causing something to catch in his chest. Turning away at once, he presses his face into his elbow as heavy-sounding coughing erupts from him, causing Jon’s brows to knit closer together in worry with every moment that passes. Mercifully, the coughs fade away after about fifteen seconds. Martin flops back gracelessly against the pillows, panting and exhausted.

And still smiling.

“Lucky to have you,” he rasps, lifting a hand to Jon’s cheek.

Jon leans closer, expression lightening, and brings up a hand to press against Martin’s palm where it rests.

“Lucky to have you,” he whispers, gazing intensely into the warm hazel of Martin’s eyes.

They remain like this for several seconds, neither wanting to violate the sanctity of this moment. Martin then inhales sharply, mouth open to say something—before snapping it shut again, looking suddenly nervous. Jon’s brows furrow instinctively.

“What is it, darling?” he asks, head tilting to the side of Martin’s palm.

The corners of Martin’s mouth curl up at the term of endearment, pulling a deep flush to his cheeks and ears. Looking up again, he determinedly matches the intensity of Jon’s gaze.

“I…I love, you, Jon.”

He inhales more confidence.

“I love you. Just…so much.”

Every nerve in Jon’s body is on fire. Vacantly, he knows that his mouth is hanging open, his eyes wide, his face flushing with heat—but for a moment, he cannot move, nor breathe, nor speak.

Martin LOVES me.

Martin loves ME.

At last, he regains some measure of control, managing to keep hold of Martin’s left hand while shifting his weight to sit on the edge of his bed. Reaching out his other toward his face, he cups Martin’s cheek with a still-shaking hand. Their faces are just inches apart now, hovering, begging to be pressed together.

“I love you too, Martin Blackwood. More than…more than I know how to say.”

Martin smiles then, wide and charming, before craning his neck up to brush his lips against Jon’s, questioning.

“Say it like this, then?” he whispers.

“Gladly.”

Their lips meet in a gentle blush of a thing, hesitant and brief, before deepening into a warm, unhurried kiss. Martin’s hands move into Jon’s hair as they find the perfect rhythm, gentle and passionate and utterly their own. When he manages to pull small noises of pleasure from Martin, Jon grins against his lips in pride before pulling him back in for more.

After nearly a minute, Martin urgently pushes back against Jon’s chest. Immediately breaking contact, Jon pushes himself away frantically, careful not to touch him, panicked at the thought that he’d done something wrong.

“M-Martin, I’m so sorry, what ha—”

He is cut off as Martin pitches forward violently, coughing deeper than Jon has ever heard—as thick grey fog pours from his mouth, his eyes, his nostrils.

“God, Martin, here, here—”

Jon braces him by the shoulders as he leans forward, chest rumbling in desperation to clear the way for oxygen. Guilt floods Jon as he feels the force of Martin’s convulsions beneath his hands.

Why did you kiss him? Damn it damn it damn it

Dense fog is filling the room now, and Jon is struck with terror at the thought of anyone entering the room to see this. The tendrils have nearly reached the door, could snake beneath it at any moment—

Tͮ̀h̥ͫ̎̂ë̗̹̯̜y̬͔͖̝̅̇ͧ ̯͙͈͖͙̈́͛̚w̮̺̻̜̔̈́ͬͩͮi̙̠̙͍̤̒ͩ̂̽l̺̣̣͕̩̥̟̈́̔ͨl̯̺̩̳̰͂̍̉̈́͌ ̼̼̬̟̞̘̏̈́̌͑ñ̩̞̲̯̤̅̉ͮo͓̝̠͌ͤ͊͗̿ͤṭ̯͂̈ͥͧ̂͆ ̳̦̣̃ͬ͒c͓ͥ̍͛̃o̔ͪ̈́m̓ͮe.

Jon pays for this knowledge with pain, every Mark on his body throbbing furiously.

Breathe it in, and let it go.

Breathe, let go.

Focus.

At long last, Martin’s hacking subsides, leaving him utterly spent and hunched forward on the bed. Jon begins rubbing slow circles on his back with aching hands, calming him as he finally manages to regain his breath. After a few moments, Jon gently guides him to lie back against the pillows. Tears leak out of the corners of Martin’s eyes as he does so, and Jon’s heart clenches briefly with sympathy before Martin begins to laugh, a toothy grin spreading across his face.

“Wh…what is it, Martin?” he asks, confused.

“I think…I think that was the last of it, Jon,” he says, voice wobbling.

Jon inhales sharply, taking Martin’s hand.

“What? Really?”

“Y-yeah, really. I can feel it, I…I think it’s really gone. I’m not…I’m not Lonely, anymore.”

More tears spill over Martin’s cheeks as he resumes his weak laughter. His own eyes brimming, threatening to cascade over a growing smile, Jon cups Martin’s face in his hands, wiping gently at his tears with his thumbs. He then moves upwards, stroking a hand through Martin’s soft curls, watching as the last remaining bits of the fog dissipate forever.

A few minutes later, Martin smiles up at him, playfully swatting at his forearm.

“Let’s not do that again until I can breathe properly, though.”

At this, Jon laughs in earnest, before pressing his lips tenderly against Martin’s forehead.

I love him I love him I love him I love him

And he loves me.

He loves me.

#tma #tma fic #tma sickfic #jonmartin #tw illness #tw addiction #time for Peak Softness (TM)#my writing

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iamtheprotagoneil · 4 years

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@cutekitten6 okay let’s do this (reading through your tags on my posts is my one of my favorite things to do since i made this blog btw. you’re so precious. i appreciate you a lot, dude!)

#bruh the pure romance of their name meanings man #nolan really out here playing us lmaooo #but yo yeah neil introducing himself to protag with his real name #goes against what we saw established with clemence posey's character having strict division boundaries #to keep their identities hidden #even ives and wheeler could be pseudonyms because they are professionals who know the dangers #but neil? #neil just wants for his beloved to know his real name #when he sees him again #because you know when older protag sees young neil #neil def would flirt with him and not think twice about giving him his real name #regardless of whether he searched for tenet or was brought in #neil is just a sappy love bug like that wow #iamtheprotagoneil (via)

i think when it comes to neil, the protagonist was always willing to bend the rules a little. he would allow neil to use his real name - middle name or whatever you hc it as, really - because in his head, he couldn’t really think of neil with any other name (like us, really). he must have spent days, weeks, months even, obsessing over this one guy that showed up to save his life, then ultimately died for him. he called him neil so much in his own head as he went through the mission again, that he just couldn’t imagine calling neil as anything else. so he’d allow neil to use his real name, because the protagonist relied on it just as much.

and, god, neil would definitely flirt, but i don’t think he genuinely meant it – or at least, he didn’t mean it at first. he started out as just a way to get close to the protagonist. he put on this charming persona, always smiling with an alluring gleam in his eyes that he knew people wouldn’t be able to resist. he insisted on using his real name because he wanted to build a foundation of trust between him, wanted the protagonist to let him in – in ways that neil knew he wouldn’t with other agents, or people in general – so neil could finally figure him out.

and the protagonist allowed him all of it, easily. sure, he wouldn’t have access to any classified information, but the protagonist still trusted him with much more than he did any regular tenet agent. neil still held some doubts, but the closer they got, said doubts began to wade and wane. it was something in the way the protagonist’s said neil’s name – with warm, with familiarity, with a certain sort of affection that neil was beginning to catch for himself.

so yeah, neil flirted, at first, with hidden intention, but as it went on, it became less about getting a clue into the protagonist, and more about getting the protagonist all for himself.

#hmmmmm yeah #im actually now thinking about this #and what if its sorta both #what if neil is his middle name #and he usually goes by his first name but changed it to his middle because #1. job security in tenet is top priority #but also #2. the first time protag sees neil again and neil is shiny and new #he calls him neil (either as a 'do i know you" shtick) #(which makes neil think hes flirting with him) #(or in a breathy realisation that neil just so happened to hear and turned around being like yeH?) #and neil just decided that yup neil is what I'll go by now (via)

okay, listen....... what if, neil was the name the protagonist gave to him? what if, after neil recovered from his test – dying in some way for a mission, refusing to give up any information pertaining it and his teammates, just like the protagonist once did – the protagonist met with neil, and just casually, unthinkingly, called him neil.

neil would pause, looking at him strangely because the protagonist must have known his name already, must have read it on the files they had on neil. he didn’t voice his question, but the protagonist still saw it in his expression, in the confusion passing through his gaze.

“that’s your name, from now on,” the protagonist explained, in addition with what priya had once told him, that they needed the secrecy to protect not just themselves but also the mission they would go on. then, he added, a bit for forlorn, “if you don’t like it, you can pick another one.”

he said it, and there was nothing in his expression or his voice that betrayed his words, but somehow, neil could still hear the hesitant, the way the protagonist didn’t actually mean it – was hoping against it. neil watched him for a moment, trying to gauge more than what could very well be a delusion on his own parts, before shaking his head.

“no,” he said, titling his head a little, considering, “neil’s fine, i think.”

the protagonist didn’t exactly exhale in relief, but the relief passing was unmistakable. neil smiled, didn’t mention it, only thinking about how the road ahead of him would be so interesting.

(there’s just no shortage of ways we could go about this. n*lan handed us a giant sandbox that we can mess with as we please lmao)

#HAHAHAHAHA #i wanted to point this out in the fic you wrote out of my kat jealousy ask #because you wrote that neil left his older protag two weeks before he died #and i was like HMMMM THAT DOESNT SEEM RIGHT BUT ILL TAKE IT (via)

lkfjsdlkfjsdlkfj BRO THE SHAME. that was a giant bruh moment for me, goddamn. honestly competely forgot about that science mumbo-jumbo, only focused on protagoneil ripsdlfkjslkdjfsldkfj i’mma go back and fix that part of the fic later, right now that screenplay really needs a good reading 🙈

#bruh for some reason this gives me doctor who/river song vibes #not like i didnt have those vibes the moment the movie ended for me the first time lmao (via)

yeah, my friend chris directed me to river song/the doctor because i don’t watch doctor who and all i got to say is 😭😭😭😭😭😭

#BRUH I MADE A PROTAGONEIL COLLAB PLAYLIST A WHILE AGO #PLEASE ADD THIS TO IT IF YOURR INTERESRED HMU BECAUSE YO (via)

bro where can i find this playlist? i’ve been looking for some good songs that would fit these two for a while now. only that song by labrinth truly hits all the points for me.

#cutekitten6 #replies #protagoneil #tenet #y'all really got me talking about a few names for multiple posts huh?#i ain't complaining but goddamn there's just so much to talk about #so many possibilities #n*lan threw tenet at us and we just gotta make up the character traits since there was barely any in the movie skdjfsdlfkjklj #*my ramblings

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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In Sickness and In Health (Branjie)- athena2

A/N: Brooke gets sick and ends up in the hospital. Luckily Vanessa is always there to keep her together.

This is just a little sick fic I’ve had in progress and decided to finish to work through some writer’s block and hopefully get some writing inspiration. It’s fluffy with some mild angst, and I hope you enjoy! Please leave feedback if you’d like, it always means a lot to me! Thank you Writ for betaing and all your encouragement!

*There is hospitalization and mild medical talk. It’s not graphic, but do be cautious*

—

Vanessa wakes when the sun slips through the curtains, rolling over to bury her face in Brooke’s neck. For two years now she’s been waking up next to Brooke and each morning still feels like that first one, body bursting with tenderness and love Vanessa knew she’d have forever, even after just one night.

“Saturday morning pancake time!” Vanessa nudges Brooke’s side and she winces, covering it up with a loud groan.

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa’s trying not to worry, but Brooke hadn’t hidden that pain as well as she thought, and she just can’t help it.

“I’m just not really hungry for pancakes,” Brooke says quietly.

“You didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday either,” Vanessa adds, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

“My stomach’s a little off, I guess.”

“Is there anything you are hungry for?” she tries.

“Toast, maybe?”

Vanessa leads Brooke out of bed and seats her at the table, setting a plate of toast in front of her a few minutes later. She watches with intense eyes as Brooke takes two bites and sips at a glass of water.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to watch me like I’m a baby,” she insists when she sees Vanessa staring. Brooke hates to be fussed over, and Vanessa tries to be more discreet the rest of the day, as she keeps her eye on Brooke, watching her act less and less like herself. They go to the farmer’s market and Brooke doesn’t eat the strawberries right out of the container like she always does, her normally graceful walk slow and hunched slightly, and has nothing but a cup of tea for lunch even though it’s her favorite cafe.

She shoots Nina a text with Brooke’s symptoms, needing someone reasonable. Nina is a fellow kindergarten teacher and one of Vanessa’s best friends at work, and she commands Vanessa and Brooke to come over for dinner once a month because she loves them so much. The reply makes her legs quiver: My niece had something similar. Ended up being her appendix. If she’s still sick Monday, you might want to get her to a doctor. Though I know that’ll be hard with how stubborn Brooke is.

By the time she checks Brooke for a fever that night, the worry is like a block of cement in her chest.

“You feel kinda warm,” Vanessa says as Brooke bats her hand away from her forehead.

“I’m fine.”

Vanessa sighs. “Brooke, you haven’t eaten in two days and your stomach still hurts. You been wincing all day, don’t think I can’t see it. And I’m pretty sure you have a fever. If you’re not better by Monday, you’re going to the hospital, and I don’t want to hear a single argument, Mary.”

Brooke holds up her hands in surrender. “Okay. But I’m not sick. It’s just a little stomach ache. I’m sure I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

—

It’s just past 6am Sunday morning when the sound of someone throwing up wakes Vanessa from her sleep, and she rushes to the bathroom, Brooke kneeling on the floor by the toilet.

“Brooke, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she groans, flushing the toilet. “Nothing in me to throw up, really.”

Vanessa hands her a cup of water and sits on the floor next to her, stroking Brooke’s long hair. Brooke’s skin is always fair but she’s white as a sheet now, with purple circling her eyes. She’s going to the hospital, no matter what Vanessa has to do to get her there.

Brooke swishes the water around and spits back in the toilet rather than the sink, and Vanessa thinks it’s because she’s too weak to stand.

“Your stomach still hurts?”

“It’s not that bad.”

Brooke is still denying it, but it doesn’t escape Vanessa that she’s gone from ‘I’m fine’ to ‘It’s not that bad’. That’s about as close to an admission of illness that she’ll get from Brooke, and Vanessa rests a hand on her forehead again. It’s not burning hot but it’s warmer than last night, and her hand comes back sticky with sweat. Brooke hasn’t even swatted at her, another sign of how sick she must be.

“You’re warmer now, I think,” Vanessa says gently. “You’ve been like this since Friday and I don’t think you’re getting any better. Will you let me take you to the ER? Please?”

“Okay.” Brooke caves softly, and Vanessa worries more than ever as she speeds to the hospital.

—-

The next few hours are a whirlwind. They spend about 15 minutes with a doctor in one of the exam rooms before Brooke is admitted with a likely case of appendicitis and set up in a hospital bed, nurses in and out drawing blood samples, placing thermometers in her mouth, inserting an IV in her arm, sometimes taking Brooke away for more tests. The doctor orders some sort of scan and a nurse tells Brooke to drink two jumbo Styrofoam cups of something that Brooke grumbles tastes like chalk, grimacing with each sip.

Vanessa just sits in the hard plastic chair next to Brooke’s bed, giving her encouraging smiles that aren’t working. All Vanessa can do is watch as Brooke flinches each time her IV gets caught, her hand clutching at her side when she moves wrong. It must suck to be in that bed but it sucks just as much to be in the chair next to it, watching Brooke suffer and being unable to do a thing to help her. Vanessa would take her place in an instant.

She’s trying to stay calm for Brooke’s sake, but her wife looking so small and fragile in a hospital bed is one of the scariest things Vanessa’s ever seen in her life. Brooke never gets sick. She hasn’t had anything worse than a cold in the two years they’ve been married, and hated every second of them; hated having people fuss over her and act like she was weak. Vanessa, on the other hand, caught every virus known to the world from her kindergarteners and didn’t mind having Brooke cover her in blankets and make her soup. Vanessa’s never been the caretaker before, and she’s not sure how much longer she can keep this up.

“It’s freezing in here,” Brooke complains, pulling the blanket up high over her thin hospital gown, grimacing as it tugs on her IV.

It is cold in the room, cold enough that Vanessa can’t just blame it on Brooke’s fever.

“Here.” She takes off her coat and lays it on top of Brooke’s shivering body, met with immediate protests that she shuts down just as fast.

“How did I even get sick in the first place? I shouldn’t be sick. Do you think I did something to my appendix? What if–”

Leave it to Brooke to blame herself for being in the hospital. “Brooke, you didn’t do anything. Something like this is totally beyond your control, there’s nothing you could have done to cause it,” Vanessa soothes. “And besides, we don’t even know for sure that’s what it is.”

“Well, based on Google, I’m pretty convinced, but if I had my phone back–”

“You’re not getting it back.”

“Please? I’m so bored.” Brooke whines, her pout so pitiful Vanessa almost caves. But the whole reason she took it is so Brooke can’t type her symptoms into WebMD and convince herself she’s dying, and Vanessa holds firm even though it physically pains her.

“How much longer am I gonna be stuck here?” Brooke taps her fingers impatiently on the bed rail.

It’s not even 10am yet, but it feels like they’ve been through an entire day, with no idea of how much longer this will go on. Brooke is restless in the bed, wringing her hands, flicking through TV channels and not watching a single one, fiddling with her hospital bracelet. She keeps touching the empty space on her ring finger, the ring currently in Vanessa’s purse since it had to be removed for the scan. She’d give it back to Brooke to comfort her and maybe help her relax a little, but what’s the point? It’d probably have to come off again eventually, and she doesn’t think anything could relax her wife right now. Brooke is color-coded schedules and careful planning, her days laid out in detail, from meetings at work to shopping trips and dinner dates with Vanessa. She likes preparation, knowing exactly how her day will go. Being trapped in a hospital bed, not knowing how long she’ll be stuck there, how long until a nurse gets her for another test or tells her what’s wrong, must be one of the worst things in the world for her.

“I know, baby, but we just gotta wait.”

Brooke heaves a loud sigh, followed by a wince. “I don’t want to be here! I hate this! I hate this stupid bed and I can’t even move without this stupid IV digging in my arm and I had to drink a gallon of fucking melted chalk for that CT scan and they still won’t even say what’s wrong with me and my stomach hurts, Ness.”

The outburst scares her just as much as it breaks her heart. Vanessa has noticed Brooke slowly losing her grip over the past three hours, but it doesn’t mean she’s any more prepared when she finally crumbles. Brooke has always been her rock, keeping them focused with her schedules, doing the grocery shopping when Vanessa forgets, taking the day off work just to help Vanessa decorate her classroom every year. It was Brooke who Vanessa would cling to when she was stressed and having a shitty day, Brooke who would give her a massage and listen to her rants. Even during Brooke’s times of insecurity where she was up all night stressing over case notes, worrying that she wasn’t good enough, she’s never fallen apart quite like this, and Vanessa knows she’ll have to weather the storm to keep Brooke whole.

She loosens the deathgrip Brooke has on the railing and rubs her thumb over the back of Brooke’s hand in soothing circles. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get through this together, okay?”

Brooke gives a weak nod.

“Why didn’t you say the pain got worse?”

Brooke just shrugs. “Didn’t want to bother anyone.”

Oh, fuck her Canadian politeness. Vanessa takes a breath. “Okay, first of all, you’re not bothering anyone. You gotta say when you need something. Now how about I call the nurse and have her bring you some more painkillers?”

Brooke nods again.

A minute later a nurse injects something in Brooke’s IV, saying that the test results should be coming soon, and Brooke’s shoulders lose some of their tightness, the pinched lines that had taken over her features smoothing out. She keeps frowning at her missing wedding ring, but she does nod along as Vanessa talks to distract her, telling her stories about what the kids in her class got up to last week. Brooke even manages a smile that is erased the second the doctor walks in.

The doctor is talking, telling them it’s appendicitis and they have Brooke scheduled for surgery in an hour; the surgery is some laparo-something mumbo-jumbo, it’s minimally invasive and the recovery is so quick Brooke can probably go home tomorrow.

Vanessa’s trying to listen, she really is, but the second the word surgery comes out Brooke’s face falls, and Vanessa can see the wheels spinning in Brooke’s mind as she spirals.

The doctor says the nurses and the surgeon will be in soon to go over some information, and then she leaves, Brooke’s breaths turning to shallow pants.

“Brooke–” Vanessa begins.

“I don’t want surgery,” Brooke huffs.

“Br–”

“Ness, please, I just wanna go home.” Her voice is small, barely more than a whisper, and Vanessa would rip her out of the bed and take her home right this second if she didn’t know Brooke needed to be in the hospital.

She’s scared, Vanessa realizes as her heart shatters. For all the cool confidence Brooke projects at her law firm, all the men she makes quiver with a single glance, Brooke’s never been sick like this, never even been hospitalized before. Vanessa squeezes her hand, trying to find the right words to soothe Brooke and keep her together. She’s talked several kindergarteners down from temper tantrums in her day, and while she knows Brooke would protest at being compared to a five-year-old, the calming process is roughly the same.

“I know you wanna go home, honey, I know. But you need to stay here and have the surgery to make you feel better, okay? And then once you’re better, we’ll go home and we can lay on the couch and watch anything you want. Even them scary-ass murder shows.”

Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa thinks it worked, but then more comes pouring out of Brooke as she lifts her head up from the bed.

“But what if something goes wrong, what if it’s more serious than they think and they can’t fix it, what if-”

“Shh,” she whispers, stroking Brooke’s hair with her other hand. “You’re gonna be fine. They do this shit like a hundred times a day. It’s no big deal. The doctor said it’s quick and you can probably go home tomorrow. It’s gonna be okay.”

Brooke bites her lip and Vanessa thinks she might protest, but her eyes search Vanessa’s, see the love reflected there, and Brooke settles back against the pillows. “Okay.”

Vanessa climbs up into Brooke’s bed, turning on her side, careful to avoid her abdomen. “I ain’t giving you your phone, but how about we watch cat videos on mine?”

Brooke smiles in agreement. The two of them are still huddled together, watching a cat play the piano, when nurses arrive to take Brooke down for the surgery.

“Ness,” she pleads, hand flailing around, breaths coming in quick pants, as the nurses start moving the bed.

Vanessa’s starting to worry too despite how relaxed she’s been for the past four hours, and she digs for the last ounces of calm within her.

She takes Brooke’s hand and squeezes it tight. “You’re okay, Brooke. You’re gonna be fine. It’s gonna be over really quick, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” Brooke asks nervously.

“I promise.” She twirls her pinky around Brooke’s larger one, bending down to kiss Brooke’s forehead.

The nurses take Brooke away, speaking calmly to her as they move down the hall, one staying behind to take Vanessa to the waiting room, where she finally, finally, loses her calm.

She paces back and forth across the waiting room rug so fast she makes herself dizzy. Her phone buzzes with a text from Nina, who Vanessa has been updating the past few hours.

Brooke will be fine. She’s tough as nails. Try to stay calm. Don’t forget to drink and eat something too.

She knows Nina is right, that she doesn’t need to worry about Brooke. Brooke has made her way to the top of her law firm over men who constantly wanted to bring her down, has spoken at meetings where she was the only woman in the room. Brooke told Vanessa she once did a dance performance with a broken toe as a teenager. She has no doubt in her mind Brooke will come out of this just fine and recover even faster than expected. She knows it’s a routine procedure, that there’s probably nothing to worry about.

But still.

How can she sit down and relax or eat anything when Brooke is behind those doors, all alone in a sea of scrubs and monitors, having her skin cut open?

Vanessa sits down in another uncomfortable chair because she might start crying soon. She spins her wedding band and engagement ring around her finger, thinking of how Brooke had proposed on her birthday and Vanessa was so surprised it took her a few seconds to throw herself at Brooke and say yes.

She wants Brooke back now. Neither of them did well when they were apart. Vanessa had gone to a teachers’ conference last year and was unable to sleep in her plush hotel bed that was just too empty, coming home to see Brooke with deep bags beneath bloodshot eyes as she admitted that she couldn’t sleep without Vanessa kicking her in the middle of the night.

She checks the time. It’s only been 15 minutes. The doctor said the surgery would take about an hour and then they’d bring Brooke to the recovery room for the anesthesia to wear off before Vanessa could see her. Vanessa hates that she won’t be there when Brooke first wakes up, but the doctor said Brooke would be very sleepy and disoriented and might not even remember the recovery room.

She gets another text from Nina suggesting that she visit the gift shop to keep herself busy, and that’s what she does. It better be well-stocked, because Vanessa is a stress shopper and she could clean the bitch out right now.

She strides past bags of chips and candy and cookies, knowing Brooke won’t be able to eat for a while. She finds bright sunflowers and lilies and grabs a stuffed whale with Get Whale Soon printed on its back, which should make Brooke smile at least.

She stashes her bags on a chair and resumes her pacing, minutes ticking by like sludge until she hears a doctor call her name.

“Everything went well. She’s okay.”

Vanessa hears those words and can’t really pay attention to the rest, body ready to run to wherever Brooke is, to see her with her own eyes and know she’s okay.

“Can I see her?” she blurts, not caring about her rudeness.

The doctor smiles, probably used to people ruder than her. “We’re moving her into her room now, and then a nurse will take you to see her. She’s asleep right now; she’ll probably be in and out for another couple hours and she’ll be a little groggy. We’d like to keep her overnight for observation, but there were no complications and she should be able to go home tomorrow.”

The relief is overwhelming, and Vanessa has to grab at her chest to stay standing. She’s okay. Brooke is okay. The thoughts are on loop as the nurse takes her to Brooke’s room, leaving with instructions to call if they need anything.

All she needs right now is Brooke, every ounce of Vanessa’s focus trained on her wife. Brooke is pale, almost as pale as the sheets, and she looks so small, not like Vanessa’s entire body can fit against her. But her face is peaceful as she sleeps and Vanessa is grateful she’s at least not in any pain.

She arranges a florist’s worth of flowers on the window and rests the whale against Brooke’s leg, avoiding her abdomen. The doctor said they made three small incisions and sealed them with sutures that dissolve on their own, which sounds like some sci-fi shit to Vanessa. The rise of Brooke’s chest is soft and steady and Vanessa finds herself matching it, all her fears from the past hours melting away. She’s okay. Brooke is okay.

She settles into another hard chair and waits.

—-

“N-Ness?” Brooke’s voice is hoarse and foggy and it’s the best thing Vanessa’s heard in hours.

“I’m here.”

Brooke is trying to turn her head but not getting anywhere, and Vanessa stands up so Brooke can see her.

“Good.” Brooke’s glassy eyes slide shut and she takes a deep breath before forcing them back open, like she’s afraid Vanessa will disappear if they close too long.

“You can go back to sleep, baby. I’ll still be here.”

“‘Kay.”

Brooke is asleep seconds later.

—-

“Ness?” Brooke’s voice is a bit clearer, a bit stronger this time.

“I’m here, honey. Do you feel okay?”

“Mmm. You’re here.”

Brooke’s right hand is moving, or trying to anyway, the motion wobbly and slow. A frustrated wrinkle forms between her eyebrows. It’s adorable, but Vanessa reaches down to take Brooke’s hand so she doesn’t get too upset.

“I’m here. I promised, didn’t I?”

“I love you.” Vanessa’s not sure if it’s just her or the leftover anesthesia mixed with painkillers, but Brooke’s eyes are clearer than before and she’ll never tire of Brooke saying she loves her.

“I love you too, baby.” She reaches down near Brooke’s leg and pulls up the gift resting there. “I got you a whale.”

“I love it,” Brooke gasps, mouth falling open, and Vanessa releases her hand so Brooke can hold it, her fingers clumsily stroking the whale’s head.

“Thank you for staying,” Brooke says.

“Of course, baby. I’m always gonna stay with you.”

She leans down to kiss Brooke, and she knows the words will always be true.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #fluff #hurt/comfort #mild angst #athena2 #tw hospitalization #tw mild medical talk #concrit welcome #submission

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luckyspike · 4 years

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Eleventh Hour Admission - A Good Omens fanfiction

Hey guys remember when I talked about writing a hospital AU

i did it but no one is a doctor they’re all nurses

title refers to literally getting an admission during the eleventh hour of your shift, possibly a fate worse than death

CW: hospitals, medical procedures, automobile accidents, the joint commission

this will never be continued (probably) or posted to AO3, so enjoy it

Ari Fell liked it his job. That wasn’t sarcasm. He really, truly liked his job: he liked helping other people, he liked watching the sickest of the sick get well again and, when he couldn’t do that, he liked being there for them, trying to help them peacefully and painlessly move on. He liked meeting the families of his patients, he liked getting to know his patients when they could talk, and he liked that every day was a new day, something different and unknown and rife with opportunity to learn something new, or to help someone.

He liked his job, but he didn’t like 6am admissions.

Which, he had a feeling, was precisely why his ASCOM phone was going off at 5:55am. The caller ID informed him that it was Gabriel, the charge for tonight. He winced and the other nurse working the east pod with him tonight, Tracy, nodded sympathetically. He picked up the phone, and answered the call.

“Ari!” Yes. Yes, that was Gabriel. By the sound of it, he was in the cafeteria, likely having coffee with the other charges during their morning “bed meeting”. Ari had long since suspected that “bed meeting” was an excuse to get coffee and kvetch for the last hour of their shift, but he’d never really had the opportunity to find out, after he’d refused the offered charge position last year.

“Gabe.” He stared gloomily at the empty room before him. It had been empty all night, after he’d packed the last patient off to IMC to make room for a possible admit. He had known it was too good to be true, known with a sort of icy certainty that a quiet night would never last, and soon enough there would be some kind of admit rolling up. He’d hoped it wouldn’t be an hour before shift change but, well …

Maybe it would be an intubated pneumonia. Sedated, even. That would be nice.

“Got an ED trainwreck coming up. You heard them call that level 1 trauma, yeah?”

His heart dropped into his stomach, which dropped all the way to his Danskos. “Yes.”

“MVA, lady was flying and ran off the road into the orchard. Hit like three of the apple trees, Bee told me. Anyway, she’s a hot mess. I told them they could call report and bring her up any time.”

“I’ll need to stock the room -”

Gabriel ignored him. “I’d love to help get her settled but we’re gonna be in bed meeting until 6:30 and then I have to do the board for day shift, but I’m sure you and Tracy’ll have it in hand. Holler if you need anything!” The line went dead.

“What do you need?” Tracy asked, already half out of the pod, aimed toward the supply room. The supply room, Ari knew, where the housekeeper usually hung around this time of the morning, surreptitiously drinking instant-brew coffee behind the Pyxis.

Ari sighed. “A whole set-up. I don’t have report yet, but it’s a trauma. Probably need suction and the whole nine yards.” The ASCOM chirped again. “That’ll be report.”

“I’ll get some culture bottles and extra red tops as well.” He nodded to her as she vanished around the corner, and picked up the phone. “Ari Fell, ICU 4 East.”

“Ari!” He might have groaned. “It’s AJ!”

“Great. You’re calling report, I assume?”

“Well, yeah, but also I was just thinking I’m off for two days after this, and I don’t have any plans after my shift, was thinking about kegs and eggs at the place across the street. Care to join?”

“Somehow,” Ari said with rather more chill to his tone than usual, “I think I’ll be getting off my shift late.”

AJ laughed. “Oh, yeah. I’m bringing up the hot mess express.”

“Oh, boy.” He half-sighed, half-groaned. “I’m ready.”

“Right, patient’s still a Jane Doe but ID in her purse said Eve Smith, 22 years old, just waiting on family to confirm. Chaplain called her parents but no answer yet. Anyway, adult female, unrestrained driver in car-versus-tree MVA, GCS of 3 at the scene, flown here, went into SVT on the way but we’ve got her on amio now at 0.5mg/hr, pan-scan showed a left-sided pneumo -”

He rattled on, Ari jotting down notes as AJ moved through the systems. At least there was that: report from AJ was, usually, good, although he did like to linger on the gory details a little longer than necessary sometimes. If he was going to get a 6am admit, at least he’d have a good report to hand off to the next shift when he inevitably presented them with this hot disaster.

Tracy was back from the supply room, a suspicious damp spot on her scrub top. The navy blue shade hid the color of the spot, but if Ari had to guess, it would be the color of Svanka instant coffee. “Enough?” she asked, holding up two bags of supplies and a handful of lab tubes. He cupped a hand over the phone.

“Two straight poles and an IV pole,” he whispered. “And an EVD hookup for the monitor.”

“Gotcha.”

“Anyway,” AJ was saying, “she’s got a Foley, so you don’t have to worry about that, and, ah … Hm. Multiple lacerations and abrasions spread out all over, but no pressure wounds or anything otherwise. Right. Anything else you need?”

“Ah …” He looked at the report sheet, the notes about infusions and lines and testing left un-done, and shrugged. “You’re coming up with her, right?”

“Oh, yeah. It’ll be a miracle if she doesn’t crump on the way up. I’ll probably be bagging her when we get there.”

He grimaced. “Wonderful. I’ll have RT ready. Otherwise, uh … no, I think I should be alright. Whenever you’re ready, we’ve got the room stocked.”

“Okay.” A little distantly, as if he’d moved away from the receiver somewhat, he heard AJ call, “Hey, you ready Erica? Time to move!” And then, back into the phone. “See you in ten.”

Ari ended the call, placed a quick SOS to respiratory for a vent delivery, and tossed the ASCOM onto the desk. One last chance to check his other patient - a post-op heart cath they’d sent for access site observation overnight before planned discharge in the morning - and then he headed into the empty room, fussing around with the lines and waiting. The vent was there, already pre-programmed with the settings, blue screen glowing in the dark room as it waited. Tracy returned with the required equipment, and rolled a pole across the room, around the end of the bed, toward Ari.

“Disaster?”

“Complete train wreck.”

She patted his shoulder. “My two are primped and propped and ready for seven. I can help all you like, dear.” She was always nice like that, calling him ‘dear’. He supposed it made sense, given that Tracy was old enough to be his mother, but he had noticed she never used the term for anybody else. He’d never asked her about it, though, mostly because he was sort of afraid that if he pointed it out, she would stop.

“I think we just wait, now.”

“Fresh meat coming?” The gruff voice of the custodian drew their attention to the doorway. “I’m off duty at 6:30, so if you think I’ll be coming in here to clean up whatever mess you and those hideous interns make -”

“I’m sure your relief will have it well in-hand, Mr. S.” Tracy fluttered her eyelashes, and leaned across the bedside table, the front of her V-neck scrub top gaping open just enough to draw the housekeeper’s eyes. “You know, I was thinking of getting breakfast and coffee at The Pantry across the street after shift … been craving their waffles.” It was a statement, but it hung open like a question. Mr. S blushed a little.

“I … I’m a little hungry myself. Could go for a nice thick pat of scrapple.” He cleared his throat. At the far corner of the ICU, Ari heard the elevator - the direct-from-the-ED elevator - ding open, and the distant sound of alarms suffused through the early-morning bustle of the unit.

“Think they might have two seats at the breakfast bar?”

“Maybe.” He smiled a little, and then remembered himself and glowered. “If an educated woman’ll deign to eat with me, that is.”

“Mm, I think I might be able to bring myself to slum it this morning.” She waved a hand. “Here she comes, move over, there’s a love.”

And come she did, in a wail of alarms and machines and, Ari was both relieved and exasperated to see, AJ, who had, as long as Ari had known him, struggled with the concept of ‘reserved’. “Heyo, told you so!” AJ was, as promised, bagging the patient, his arm snaked between various lines and tubes, the critically-ill human attached to them almost so covered as to be invisible. “Ari.”

Ari looked at the lines, horrified, and then to AJ. “What happened?”

“Huh? Oh. She came back from radiology like this. Didn’t have time to untangle everything.”

“Nothing’s even labeled!” He waved his hands at the mess. “You’ve got fluids and pressors and is that blood? What’s going where?”

“Ah. All in the subclavian, I’d imagine.” The redhead added, with scathing sarcasm, “Pretty sure I didn’t hook anything up to the EVD. Got a slide board?”

Tracy had, and she and Ari tucked it under the unconscious young woman as AJ and Erica rolled her to the side. “Hang on, let me check her back while she’s there.” There were abrasions, and lacerations, too many to count or list as part of a specific area, and then, between her shoulder blades, was an apple blossom. He plucked it off. “Really, you couldn’t clean that off?”

“Had bigger fish to fry. You done?” AJ raised an eyebrow at him, visible of the rims of his dark-tinted glasses, and Ari nodded. AJ and Erica let the woman down. “On three -” She was light enough, and with four of them they had her slid into the ICU bed in one smooth motion, still piled with a tangled mess of lines and tubes.

“You really had to bring this mess up,” Ari griped, trying to decide where to start first. His eyes widened. “You left the EVD lying under her pillow!”

“It’s clamped!” AJ replied with an exasperated groan, gratefully flicking on the vent and plugging it into the ET tube.

Erica rolled her eyes. “You done here? I’ve got to get back to the department.”

“Be right behind you,” AJ said, waving the other nurse off. “I’m gonna help whiny here get organized.” He pulled the EVD from under the pillow, carefully threading the buritrol back through the other lines until the tubing lay neatly over the rest of the tangled mess. Carefully, he hung it on the straight pole, leveled it, and opened the clamp. Pink-tinged spinal fluid started to drip out. “Come on, hand me the cable, I’ll even hook it up for you.”

“How charitable,” Ari grumbled, tossing the cable behind the headboard and bouncing it off AJ’s shoulder. “Bastard.”

“Now, boys,” Tracy admonished from the foot of the bed, where she was busying herself with untangling the Foley and the SCDs*. “Let’s not argue.”

[* Are SCDs really that important in a fragile immediately post-trauma patient, you may ask. To which the answer is: only if the Joint Commission is there.]

“Oh, we’re just having a good time.” AJ was tracing the IV tubing containing the fluids down through the sheets. “Alright, so this is going to the peripheral, just untangle this -”

“You know,” Ari said, as he fiddled with the monitor and the arterial line, trying to check for level in spite of the level being, as always, conspicuously absent. “I’m sure you have patients back down in the department. You don’t have to help. I was just giving you a hard time.” He ended up seizing a length of blood pressure cuff tubing and eyeballing the line between the transducer and the phlebostatic axis.

“Well, what if I want to?” He snorted. “My only other patient down there is a kid with a head lac, and he’s on ice until the LET kicks in and we can do staples anyway. Which will be, fortunately, after shift change. He looks like a screamer.” He smirked at Ari, and passed the IV pump with all of the various central line tubing across the bed to him. “Never let it be said I’m not occasionally nice.”

“You’re not.”

“Hey.”

At the foot of the bed, Tracy shook her head, tapping in the vital signs as she did. “Did anyone page the fellow to let them know she’s arrived?”

“Not yet,” they replied, in unison. And then exchanged a look, very briefly, before Ari looked away to busy himself with setting the monitor alarm parameters and AJ became absorbed in scribbling labels for the IV tubing.

“I’ll do it, then.”

It was quiet for a minute while they worked, but after a time, Ari realized the white sheet atop the woman was clear, the lines were meticulously untangled and laid properly, with messily-written but legible labels. It would have done the Joint Commission proud.

“Think she still needed cultures,” AJ muttered, grabbing the bottles off of the counter. “Where do you keep the tourniquets up here?”

“Here.” He set to checking orders, with the black-clad invader from the ED pulled the first set of cultures on the first stick. Ari frowned, impressed. “Nice one.”

“Eh, you get good at ‘em when you have to get a line in anything.”

“Seriously,” Ari said, more quietly now, noting that for the most part, all of the ED orders had been cleaned up, taken care of, and signed off before the patient had arrived, “you can go. Really, I’m grateful, but I can handle it and you don’t have to -”

“I know. But this is really selfish for me.” He tore the tip of the index finger off the fresh pair of gloves he’d donned, the better to palpate a vein in the opposite arm, where the splint would allow. “Don’t wanna eat breakfast alone.”

Ari stared at him for a minute. Blinked. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah,” AJ replied, tone flippant. “I think it counts as alcoholism if you drink alone too much. Have to keep up the facade of being a normal, healthy, functional adult.” He winked at Ari over the rim of his glasses. “You know how it goes, choir-boy.”

“I -” he glanced into the hallway, where Tracy and Mr. S were chatting. Mr. S had clocked out - was it past 6:30 already? And Tracy had her ASCOM in hand, although by the looks of it she hadn’t yet called. If she waited much longer, the fellow wouldn’t arrive with new orders until after shift change. He could have laughed. What an angel. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. You want to get a pitcher?”

Aj laughed, although he was watching intently as the second bottle filled. “You know, I have two days off coming up - what the hell? Let’s do it.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #human au #crowley #aziraphale #hospital au #i did it i did the thing #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much

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its-pronounced-quoassoint · 5 years

Text

Hospital

Just a little logicality fic that I wrote late at night. I hope you enjoy it. I would love to post a part two or more. If I do I’ll link to it here.

Inspiration for this post

Patton had been getting better until his condition took a turn for the worst. He was born with a rare blood disorder and was certain he was going to die around the age of two. But now, as a fourteen year old, he was the most optimistic person, likely to ever live.

He had been in and out of the hospital for all his life and hadn’t been there for six or so months when he had fallen extremely ill. Being rushed to the hospital was a rush that he sadly knew all to well and was no longer scared by the sirens of the ambulance or the musings of his mother in her attempts to soothe him. Instead, Patton found this whole ordeal rather annoying. His breathing mask was a little crooked and the straps around his ears were itchy.

They arrived at the hospital and Patton was placed in a room he had been in many times before. Doctor Marcie came in and out, checking one thing then leaving to attend to another patient before returning, only to leave yet again. There were no children’s hospitals nearby so the child section of the St. James hospital was often understaffed and over filled.

Patton waited patiently, though he had his iPad to help with that. Soon he was told that he would have to stay overnight for a while and was sent to an empty room. There were two beds, though the other had no patient. Two TVs and a curtain separating the room in two. Patton was put in the bed farthest from the door and was left with his mother and older sibling Talyn.

“Oh, Pat, don’t worry.” His sweet mother assured him.

“I’m not worried momma!” He giggled.

You’re so brave.” She cooed.

“Momma, he’s been here so many times, I think he’s used to it by now.” Talyn stated.

“Talyn!”

“Momma, they’re right.” Patton said. He grasped his Mother’s hand and smiled.

“Oh hun, you are perfect.” She sighed.

“No I’m not momma.”

“Pat, you know this isn’t the time to argue with her.” Talyn reminded their small sibling.

“Yeah.” He replied grinning up at his sibling.

As the night drew closer Patton’s mother and sibling had to leave. It was a bit tearful for the older woman but Talyn helped their mother out and soon Patton was left in the room. Alone.

Oh, he hated being alone. No one to talk to, no one to smile at, nothing but silence.

Luckily, he had his iPad and the room had a TV. Patton began absently flipping through stations until he found reruns of The Office. Using that as background noise he started scrolling through Instagram, liking posts and watching makeup tutorials and satisfying videos.

Then, around eight pm, another kid was rolled into the room and put in the other bed. He too, had glasses and Patton desperately wanted to point out that fact.

However, he knew that many kids didn’t want to talk with their ‘roommate’ right away. So he kept quiet.

After assuring the other kid was comfortable in his bed all but one nurse left. She walked over to Patton and began checking on him.

“How are you doing Pat?” She asked.

“I’m doing good Nora.” Patton smiles. Nurse Nora was Patton’s favorite. She was often his nurse while he was at the hospital and she never looked at him with pity and sadness like all the others. He wondered if her eyes were always filled with hope.

“You’re lookin’ alright. Everything seems fine. Other than you being sick that is.” She made Patton giggle.

“When is Emile coming?”

“He’ll be here to see you in morning Honeybee.” Nora told Patton.

“Yay! Oh, I have to ask him Remy!” Patton exclaimed.

“I’m sure Dr. Picani will be happy to tell you all about it.” Nora said looking at the chart.

She set down the chart and turned to Patton.

“Pat, this is Logan. He’s gonna be here for a while like you.” She told him.

“M’kay.” He replied side-eyeing the boy quickly.

Nora gave him a small ‘bap’ on the head and turned to leave.

“I’ll be back in to check on you again around eleven Honeybee.” She called.

Nora left the room and Patton felt his face ease out of the bright grin he had and into a smaller, more comfy smile. Patton lowered the volume on his tv as another episode of The Office began. He laid back his pillow and watched intently at the screen. Well, at least he was trying to watch intently. Instead he was sneaking glances at the other boy in the room. Logan, as Patton now knew, had his glasses off and his nose in a book. In fact, it appeared he had been left with a rather large stack of books.

Patton particularly liked how the boy’s facial expression shifted as he read. Logan’s small smile turned to shock, then his eyebrows creased into an angry look, then he softened and stared at the page in endearment. At one point Patton thought he had caught Logan re-reading the same paragraph several times. He was chewing on the inside of his lip in nervousness, but his eyes betrayed that action. Logan’s eyes were shimmering with a glow Patton knew only as love. He must be reading something he loved.

Logan flipped the page and that glimmer of love in his eyes faded away. Patton felt his own face waver as he saw this.

Patton then realized he had likely been looking at Logan long enough for it to be considered rude and turned away. After not being able to fully focus on the show Patton decided to turn off the TV and play on his iPad. The WiFi at the hospital was horrid but Patton had time to waste. While one particular game was loading Patton decided to take another glance at Logan.

The boy had somehow fallen asleep. The book rested on his chest that rose and fell and his hair was tossed carelessly around his face. Patton felt a grin grow on his face as he saw how content Logan was. The other kids that Patton had shared a room with in the past weren't usually content. Those kids slept with a permanent look of pain. Their eyes were so full of sadness. Some had tear stains on their cheeks that Patton didn't know how long were there or how long would last. Seeing a boy so peaceful like Logan made Patton so simply happy.

Logan then turned on his side toward Patton, the book falling to the floor. When the sound didn't wake Logan up Patton grabbed the IV on the side of his bed and got on his knees so he could wheel it around the bed. He got it to the left of him and attempted to quietly get off the bed. Once his feet were safely on the cold floor, Patton walked to the book and picked it up. Good Omens, Patton read. The cover was a simple sketch of a man with angel wings reading a red book in front of a black background. The font was funny looking and Patton made a mental note to try and read it once he was out of the hospital.

He went to place it on Logan's dresser when he heard a sudden intake of air next to him. Patton looked over and saw Logan suddenly sitting up in the bed, staring at him, clearly startled.

"Uh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Patton rushed to say. "It's just, your book fell while you were sleeping and I didn't want it to be on the dirty floor."

"Oh." Logan seemed to calm once given the explanation, his shoulders relaxed. "Thank you."

"Of course." Patton squinted as he ginned. He placed the book on the stand next to Logan's bed and walked, his IV in hand, over to the right side of his bed before sitting down cross-legged on the soft blue blanket his mother had left.

It was quiet. Patton decided he didn't enjoy the quiet and perhaps this was the time to talk to Logan. He looked over at the boy who had put his glasses on and was fixing up his hair a little. Patton felt a giggle rise from his throat. His glasses were crooked. Not enough that Logan could tell but Patton sure could.

"Um, Logan?" Patton asked.

"Yes?" He looked over at Patton.

"Your glasses are crooked." Patton told him.

"Oh." He began his attempts to fix them. After several tries where he would look to Patton for assurance that they were level and get a 'no' as a response Patton decided to simply fix it for him.

Once again pulled his IV to the other side of the bed, Patton walked over to Logan and adjusted the glasses on his face. He smiled at Logan once done and the boy smiled back, though Logan's was, a smaller simpler smile.

"You seem to know the hospital staff very well." Logan pointed out as Patton sat back down on his bed.

"Yea, I've got a blood disorder so I'm in and out of here a lot." Patton explained.

"Hm." Logan appeared to be assessing Patton's expression, though Pat couldn't tell what he was looking for. "Why did the nurse call you Honeybee."

"Uh, well," Patton felt embarrassment creep into his cheeks. "Nurse Nora was one of the very first nurses that I had on the regular rotation and when I first met her, I was obsessed with this stuffed animal. It was a bee with a little pot of honey on top. So, she started calling me Honeybee. Only a few people call me honeybee around here. Nora, Dr. Picani, Dr. Bollis, the secretary at the front desk, her name is Virginia, and the pastry chef down at the cafeteria, Mr. Thomas."

Logan nodded along as Patton gave him unasked for information. He didn't mind however. There wasn't much else to do.

Once it seemed like Patton was finished Logan decided to speak up. "I suppose I should tell you about my condition, seeing as you told me yours."

"Oh, you don't have to Logan! I understand if it makes you uncomfortable to talk about."

"Really?" Logan tilted his head.

"Yea!" Patton gave him another toothy grin.

"Thank you." Logan reciprocated.

"I never would want to make you uncomfortable. A lot of kids here don't like to talk about why they have to be in the hospital." Patton told him. "It's normal."

"I've heard you mention a Doctor Picani, who is that?" Logan asked.

"He's the child therapist at the hospital. He comes to visit all the kids at least once when they're here over night." Patton explained.

"Ah." Logan nodded in understanding.

The two continued to chat for a while. Patton would explain something about the hospital to Logan and Logan would ask some more questions until Patton had a question of his own.

"What is your book about?"

"Sorry?" Logan looked at his other bespectacled friend.

"Your book, I think it was called Good Omens. It had funny font and an angel on the cover." Patton clarified.

"You want to know about my book?" Logan asked.

"Well, yeah, that's why I asked silly!" Patton giggled.

"Oh, uh, well, it's about this angel and demon, both were sent to Earth to observe human evolution and perform miracles, that's the angel's job, or create mischief, the demon's job." Logan began to tell. "After a few thousand years the angel, who's name is Aziraphale, and the demon, who's name is Crowley, realize that whenever one does something beneficial the other just counteracts it with a bad deed."

Patton looked at Logan intently as he explained away the book. "Eventually they become good friends and both live in central London. Aziraphale owns and runs a bookshop while Crowley has a Bentley, you know the old car."

Patton nodded, reading the excitement and glee plastered all over Logan's face.

"Then the Antichrist is born, and he's supposed to bring about the end of the world. However, neither Crowley or Aziraphale want that so they attempt to stop the end of the world on the Antichrist's eleventh birthday. So they-" Logan looked Patton directly in the eyes. "are you planning on reading the book?"

"Oh, uh, I suppose so." Patton shrugged.

"Then, I guess I shouldn't tell you what happens. People tend to not like it when I explain in detail the plots of the books I'm reading." Logan looked down.

"No! No, no, keep going. Though I know how it ends that doesn't mean I won't want to read it." Patton assured him.

"Really?" Logan asked. Patton nodded quickly and Logan continued.

He explained every event in the book in great detail and would even draw Patton a diagram of confusing plot points so he could better understand it. Patton tried very hard to focus on everything Logan was saying but he found that when the boy was joyfully going on about something he's passionate about, Logan is hard to look away from. At some point Logan had walked over to sit on Patton's bed with him and was giddily showing Patton the diagram he had drawn up though at this point Patton had completely given up on paying attention to Logan's musings. Instead he had zoned out, his mind racing, never stopping to think about one thought or another too quickly. Though he somehow always tied his thoughts back to the boy sitting next to him, Patton decided to not unpack all of that at the moment. Besides, what real harm was being done if his absent-minded staring just so happened to be in the general area where Logan sat next to him.

"Patton."

"Ya-huh?" Patton's eyes came back into focus as once Logan got his attention.

"Oh, uh, I was just making sure you understood what I was saying." Logan gave a small smile before turning back to the "evidence" he had laid out on the bed.

"Yep." Patton continued to stare in Logan's general area as the smart boy went on.

"So, as I was saying I think-" Logan turned his head to the right and looked at Patton realizing the cheery boy was staring at Logan's hair. Logan exhaled and lightly took Patton's chin in his fingers, tilting the other boy's head back to the diagrams on the bed. This time assuring that he could fully understand what Logan was saying.

Patton pursed his lips and visibly pouted a little but didn't complain. He did however sneak one last look at Logan who had just the lightest hue of pink dusting his ears.

As Logan drew to a close on his lecture about his the current book he was reading he transferred back to his bed and was organizing his belongings.

"Thank you for listening to me Patton. I usually can't find anyone willing to listen to me talk about my interests."

"Oh of course, to be fully honest I spaced out a little, but a book about an Angel and a Demon falling in love," Patton laid back in his bed, a dreamy look on his face. "what's not to be interested with?"

"What?" Logan looked at his curly haired friend, flabbergasted. "They're best friends, they're not in love."

"Yeah ok." Patton raised his eyebrows and chuckled.

"They aren't." Logan stated.

"Oh, please." Patton sat up, turning to look Logan directly in the eye. "Logan, I have been in and out of this hospital my entire life. I have memorized almost every facial expression there is. I can tell how someone is feeling just by how they walk. I can see past every faked smile and forced laugh. I know what eyes filled with pity or pain look like better than, I dare say, anyone. People's actions portray their feelings more than they know. And from simply all you have told me about Crowley and Aziraphale, I can tell you with complete certainty. They are in love." Patton punctuated the last four words forcefully.

Logan looked at Patton with a small amount of shock. That however, faded quickly. Replaced instead by a content resting face. "Well, I guess it is a possibility." He mumbled.

"It's essentially a fact." Patton once again laid back.

It was quiet for the first time in a while. Though, the silence wasn't awkward as Patton had become used too. Instead, it was an easy silence. Logan, though Patton couldn't see very well, was going over the notes he had made, clearly searching for something to disprove Patton's conjecture. Patton felt a smug smile reach his lips as he closed his eyes. Enjoying the silence. That is until Logan gives a frustrated grunt and slammed his note book shut. Patton sat up, concerned. This wasn't the outcome he had expected.

"Hey, uh, Logan." Patton tentatively began. "Your voice is really nice."

"What?" Logan jerked his head up, his voice breaking a little.

"Your voice. I liked listening to you talk about the book, but your voice is very calming." Patton continued explaining. "You see, my older sibling Talyn has a friend, Virgil, he's read those H. P. Lovecraft books and he loves talking about them. I usually tune it out, which sounds rude but sometimes I just cannot continue hearing him vent about such yucky topics. However, I loved listening to you talk about Good Omens. Though the book itself isn't as gross as Lovecraft I also think your voice is part of the reason why I was so interested."

"Oh, well," Logan took a shaky in take of breath. "Thank you."

Patton smiled as a response and let his head rest on the pillow behind him. The minutes ticked on. It was slow but Patton turned on his TV and the two watched reruns of whatever shows they could find that was somewhat enjoyable. At some point the clock had struck eleven and Nora came back in. Checking both boys vitals before turning off the TV and wishing them a goodnight.

The dark room was once again plunged into silence that neither boy seemed to enjoy. Patton found he could not sleep for the life of him and figured Logan had drifted off at that point. So, when Logan shifted in his bed and spoke Patton jumped just a little.

“Patton, are you still awake?” He whispered.

“No.” Patton admitted. Opening his eyes and allowing them to adjust.

“I cannot seem to rest.” Logan sighed.

“Neither can I.” Patton giggled.

It was quiet for a beat too long.

“I feel I should admit something to you.” Logan whispered, his voice full of hesitation.

“Shoot.” Patton assured his friend.

“Earlier. When I initially awoke from my nap.” Logan began. “You told me my glasses were crooked. I purposely never fixed them correctly.”

It was quiet.

“Wow.” Patton began a soft giggle that grew. “You are a lot more subtle than I am.”

“Oh?”

“Very much so.” Patton continued his giggle. “That was a pretty smooth move there.”

“My friends would have called it desperate.” Logan admitted. Patton pursed his lips.”However, I’m not good with emotions at all. I’m not the best at, well, anything of the sort. I can’t just tell you I think you’re cute now can I?”

“Why not?” Patton asked, completely dodging the fact that this adorable boy had called him cute.

“Well, for one you could be straight.” Logan pointed out.

“Me? I’m as gay as everyone’s first impression of Aziraphale, Logan.” Patton chided.

Logan chuckled. Patton too laughed at his own comment. It was quiet. Though he couldn’t see any colors other than dark grey and black Patton could feel the red on Logan’s ears. Or perhaps that was just Patton’s hope that Logan’s face felt as hot as his did.

"I love sleepovers." He sighed.

"Patton, I don't believe this counts as a sleepover."

"I'm in a nightgown aren't I?" Patton said as though this was an argument.

"It's a hospital gown and attire doesn't really make it a sleepover." Logan countered.

"Truth or dare?" Patton asked, turning on his side toward Logan.

Logan was quiet. Clearly searching Patton's face once again, this time likely for a sign that he was joking. After some time Logan looked away.

"Dare." He sighed.

#logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #logic sanders #morality sanders

36 notes · View notes

caws5749 · 4 years

Text

This took SO LONG thanks @natthisback

1: Name Madison

2: Age 21

3: 3 fears spiders, not becoming a doctor, becoming like my parents

4: 3 things i love marvel movies, my blanket (whoops), and scrunchies

5: 4 turn ons compliment me, be chivalrous, (idk if this means sex turn on too or not but) moaning my n- ANYWHO uh and the last one definitely like showing you want me

6: 4 turn offs someone who only talks about themselves, being like wishy washy, being arrogant/cocky, complaining about the same things

7: my best friend that would be shea @cloversofshea

8: sexual orientation lesbian

9: my best first date okay SO this like isn’t a first date but it was my first like nicer dinner date so I’m gonna count it. It was just this past weekend actually and i just i loved it so much it was amazing

10: how tall am i 5’2

11: what do i miss honestly, feeling like i was good at things

12: what time were i born 11:14am

13: favorite color purple, although it’s slowly been turning to like a baby light pink

14: do i have a crush yes yes i do and i likes her a lot

15: favorite quote “Truth is a matter of circumstance. It’s not all things to all people all the time. And neither am I.”

16: favorite place Chicago or New York City

17: favorite food SALMON

18: do i use sarcasm yes, but i feel like i don’t use it as much as i used to

19: what am i listening to right now Christmas pop playlist on Spotify

20: first thing i notice in new person whether they only talk about themselves

21: shoe size 8 or 8.5

22: eye color blue

23: hair color right now, it’s a brown that goes to blond at my ends

24: favorite style of clothing so if this means like fav style to wear daily, definitely athleisure. If it means in general, i love love love preppy looks? But not super preppy.

25: ever done a prank call? Absolutely, many times

27: meaning behind my url i explain this in my about me page (linked in bio!)

28: favorite movie captain America winter soldier

29: favorite song i don’t really have favorite songs but rn it’s prob December night by Michael buble

30: favorite band i don’t really have fav bands

31: how i feel right now it’s really hot in here, so warm. I feel okay

32: someone i love i love lots of people but ill stick with @cloversofshea

33: my current relationship status I’ve answered this so many times literally just look at the ask game tag

34: my relationship with my parents um yikes

35: favorite holiday Halloween

36: tattoos and piercing i have i have 6 tattoos! “Breathe” on my right inner ankle, a heart on left shoulder, heart w equal sign in it behind right ear, basically an ecg on my left inner ankle, Aquarius symbol on right bicep, and caws 5749 on my left side. And my ears are pierced.

37: tattoos and piercing i want definitely the black widow symbol in the same place Scarlett got her og6 tattoo, an amino acid tattoo that spells out “wah” , definitely more little tattoos! And maybe more ear piercings idk

38: the reason i joined tumblr so, I’ve had a tumblr for many many years. I originally joined bc my best friends at the time had them, and i was like sure! Ive deleted that personal blog since, and started my new personal blog a few years ago. I also have a studyblr that i started i think back in high school, and i just started this blog back in the end of July!

39: do i and my last ex hate each other no, I’d say far from it bc i likes her a lot

40: do i ever get “good morning” or “good night” texts yes from her and i fucking love it, it used to be a bigger thing almost every day and i loved it

41: have i ever kissed the last person i texted lmao no and for those who were wondering it is @cloversofshea

42: when did i last hold hands LMAO WITH @michelinaamour WHEN I WAS STUMBLING HOME DRUNK IN HIGH HEELS

43: how long does it take me to get ready in the morning it depends, anywhere from ten minutes to an hour and a half

44: have you shaved your legs in the past three days no! I am super lucky and have really light colored hairs on my legs and so i dont’ have to shave very often. Also i just want to say that i personally love shaving my legs and it is my choice to do so.. girls, you do not need to shave!!

45: where am i right now so i started answering this in the research lab, but i am currently sitting at one of the dining places on campus finishing it

46: if i were drunk and can’t stand, who’s taking care of me LMAO DEFINITELY @michelinaamour because she’s done it ALREADY FOR ME MULTIPLE TIMES

47: do i like my music loud or at a reasonable level it depends, in car trips, definitely blast it. But just driving around or listening in doors, definitely reasonable level

48: do i live with my mom and dad nope i live with @michelinaamour

49: am i excited for anything yes, I’m excited for lots of things. I get excited easily

50: do i have someone of the opposite sex i can tell everything to no. I used to

51: how often do i wear a fake smile this is a really interesting question. I don’t consider smiles i give to random people like ordering food or something to be fake, so i would say fake smiles are when I’m not okay and trying to hide it. Which happens less often now bc I’m just much happier of a person

52: when was the last time i hugged someone I think it was @michelinaamour two days ago but i think i hugged @cloversofshea that day too so

53: what if the last person i kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me I’d be heartbroken tbh

54: is there anyone i trust even though i should not yes, certain adults in my life

55: what is something i disliked about today my hair won’t do what i want it to :(

56: if i could meet anyone on this earth who would it be probably Chris Evans or Scarlett Johansson

57: what do i think about the most tumblr and everything with that, or probably her or school stuff definitely

58: what’s my strangest talent i don’t think i have any lol

59: do i have any strange phobias yes definitely haha, I’m terrified of stepping on worms

60: do i prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it i think a few years ago i would have said behind, but honestly I think I’d love to be in front of the camera now

61: what was the last lie i told i actually don’t know. Maybe this past weekend as to like the fact that i was going out on a date instead of just going out with a friend

62: do i prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online I’d say talking on the phone bc then they cant’ see me lmao

63: do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Yes and yes

64: do i believe in magic? Yes, or at least, that’s what i tell myself

65: do i believe in luck yes

66: what’s the weather like right now snowy!

67: what was the last book I’ve ever read The Butchering Art, it’s about the history of surgery

68: do i like the smell of gasoline omg yes yes yes yes yes yes

69: do i have any nicknames yes, madz, madi, girl who lives by the kitchen, queen (a new one) and clown (also a new one) thanks @natthisback

70: what was the worst injury I’ve ever had back in freshman year of college, i did something stupid and my foot swelled up like hell and hurt so bad. There were no fractures detected but the swelling stayed for a really long time, as well as the bruising and pain, and it never returned to normal

71: do i spent my money or save it SPEND IT BABY

72: can i touch my nose w my tongue no I’m not that talented

73: is there anything pink in 10 ft from me. Hmm part of my backpack? And my rings are pinkish bc they are rose gold. Oh and my scrunchie is pink, as well as my iPad

74: favorite animal cat

75: what was i doing last night at 12am i was still at work In the emergency room!

76: what do i think satan’s last name is uh honestly Jim lmao (it’s demons Jim! @cloversofshea )

77: what’s a song that always makes me happy when i hear it so good by dove Cameron

78: how can you win my heart suggest we watch a marvel movie, and I’m prob straight up in love. There are other things too but they’re pretty general, like compliment me, show you want me ya know

79: what would i want to be written on my tombstone haha, as a joke, “so realy its very thing. Just to keep everyone guessing.” But idk something funny

80: what is my favorite word i have no idea, maybe like sophisticated or something like that or aesthetic , champagne is a good one too

81: my top 5 blogs on tumblr ooh! Okay so @markiplier @lesbian-deadpool @americasass-romanoff @lesbianmariahilll @shining-rey-of-sunshine but i love so so so so so many more, and i have a lot of top blogs

82: if the whole world were listening to me right now what would i say fuck trump also I’m gay as hell and I’m growing tired of hiding it from people

83: do i have any relatives in jail not that i know of

84: i accidentally eat some radioactive vegatables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super power of my choice! What is that power lmao this question is great. Prob same powers as Wanda

85: what would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on any weird fetis- JUST KIDDING. Do you still think about them?

86: what is my current desktop picture so on my laptop, it’s fall flowers. But since that’s broken af, i use my iPad and that background is one of the apple ones. It’s just a beach idk why but I’ve never changed it

87: had sex WHY IS THIS IN EVERY SINGLE ASK GAME WTF

88: bought condoms nope i am gay as hell bye

89: gotten pregnant nope i am gay as hell bye

90: failed a class nope, definitely come close though

91: kissed a boy yes

92: kissed a girl yes

93: have i ever kissed somebody in th rain honestly, probably at some point, but I’ve never had one of those romantic kisses in the rain. I really really want to though and i think about it a lot

94: had job yeah, I’ve had three true jobs

95: left the house without my wallet probably

96: bullied someone on the internet no bc I’m not a fucking douche

97: had sex in public not yet

98: played on a sports team yeah, played softball and basketball in middle school

99: smoked weed yeah, but i didn’t get high

100: did drugs nope

101: smoked cigarettes nope, i think i asked drunk once if i could smoke, but my friend was like “really?” And i was like uhhhhhh just kidding haha

102: drank alcohol lmao i drink fucking all the time i mean. I literally have drunk writing nights , I’m drinking tonight too

103: am i a vegetarian/vegan i was a vegetarian for a while, and then an aspiring vegan, and then vegetarian, and then pescatarian now!

104: been overweight no

105: been underweight yes

106: been to a wedding yeah, but like not for a long time. I was like 4 and the flower girl. Oh WAIT. Does playing a wedding count? I played cello at a wedding so i was there???

107: been on the computer for 5 hours straight hell yeah, how would i function not doing this with class and relaxing

108: watched tv for 5 hours straight lmao definitely

109: been outside my home country yeah

110: gotten my heart broken yeah

111: been to a professional sports game yeah. I don’t really do sports though , so when i go it’s usually in suites and I’m just there for the food

112: broken a bone nope!

113: cut myself this is...a. Really deep question but bc i want to be able to speak about mental health on here, the answer is yes.

114: been to prom yes! I went to my junior and senior proms!

115: been in airplane too many times

116: fly by helicopter no, I’m not sure if i want to do this or not

117: what concerts have i been to I’ve been to lots. So first off, I’ve been to hundreds of classical concerts (and performed in them). As for pop, Bruno mars twice, maroon five like three times. Selena Gomez. Josh groban. American authors. Definitely others that i don’t remember

118: had a crush on someone of the same sex yes I’m fucking gay

119: learned another language so if this means fluent, no. I took a decent amount of French and am learning Russian right now!

120: wore make up absolutely. When i choose to wear makeup, its because i fuckign love makeup haha. Most days I’m lazy though and like to let my skin breathe and be natural

121: lost my virginity before I was 18 no

122: had oral sex yeah

123: dyed my hair many times

124: voted in a presidential election okay i think so but honestly can’t remember. But I’m pretty sure i did.

125: rode in an ambulance no and i never want to.

126: had a surgery no and i never want to haha. Well i cant say that. Depending on how my life plays out, I might freeze my eggs or something.

127: met someone famous yes, several I think, but probably Henry winkler was the one I remember most.

128: stalked someone on a social network yeah

129: peed outside nope don’t think so and definitely don’t want to

130: been fishing yes I have been ice fishing and regular fishing

131: helped w charity i have!

132: been rejected by a crush I’ve been not liked back but i don’t think I’ve ever made like a move on a crush and been rejected

133: broken a mirror ooh i don’t think i have actually

134: what do i want for birthday nothing bc i dont’ like my bday

#madison speaks #ask game

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killerwhitequeen-blog · 5 years

Text

Black Cloud (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x reader)

Anonymous asked: Hi! I aw that requests are open and was wondering if you could do a Roger Taylor one where the reader has amnesia and they are on a relationship and the reader doesn't remember. It can be angsty or fluffy, completely up to you!

A/N: I decided to go with both angsty and fluffy, hope you all enjoy, feel free to give criticism. Tbh this one is sad gamer hours so have fun with that

Warnings: Parent Death (brief mention), drunk driving, swearing.

The day had been off to a bad start for Roger, with Freddie making him redo his perfected drum solo a multitude of times, the skin on his snare tearing, having an argument with Brian over how convoluted his songs were and of course, not being able to see you.

You were stuck in work that day, with people you disliked and customers you detested, on your feet, for eight hours straight. Breathing out a sigh you cracked your neck, letting the vertebrae down your spine pop with it, feeling an instant release from some of works tensions.

You didn't know what would happen later but you had a sinking feeling in your chest whenever you thought about the walk home. Roger was unable to pick you up that day, busy with prior engagements, like the trip to the pub the band had been promising Fred for months. You understood completely and were actually looking forward to a nice quiet walk home before settling on the settee with a cuppa and watching mindless drivel on the TV before a good, deserved nights rest. But the storm cloud brewing in your stomach would not calm, it could not be satiated until the deed was done.

You called the boys before you left work that night, wanting to hear Rogers voice before he became mindlessly drunk, the phone picked up on the second ring.

“Yuh huh?” you heard Roger moan down the phone, obviously annoyed that he was the one to have to pick it up.

“Oh what a lovely way to greet your girlfriend Roger, really something to write home to mum about” you said sarcasm practically dripping from your voice.

“(Y/N) Fuck, I'm so glad you called, I've had the worst day imaginable... but you know what would make it better?” you could nearly hear him wiggling his eyebrows through the phone, making you giggle.

“No Roger, look, I only called to say, I'm leaving work now to try and get back home before it gets dark”

“Okay sweetheart, do you want to say hi to the guys before you go? We all miss you terribly” you laughed at his horrible attempt at a posh accent before giving your affirmation.

“SAY HI TO (Y/N)!” You heard Roger call through the studio and suddenly harsh footsteps were heard from the other end of the line.

“HI” all three boys shouted at once making the phone to your ear rattle slightly from the sheer force of the vibrations.

“Hiya boys” you paused for one second before saying “now ive really got to go Rog, I love you all and Ill see you soon, love you the most Rog, see you tonight right? No sleepovers at Brians, I dont care how drunk you get, I want to see you tonight”

“Bye (Y/N)” the lads yelled, rattling the poor landline once again.

“Bye love, I promise I'll see you later, I love you more than anything princess, bye” he mumbled so the others wouldnt hear him.

“bye” you said, putting down the handset and reaching for your bag, the sinking feeling in your gut getting worse by the minute.

You decided to take the front door out of work rather than the side, opting for visibility on the main road rather than taking the scenic route back to your flat. First mistake. You decided to look to the ground whilst walking. Second mistake. One minute you heard gravel crunching beneath your feet and in a split second you heard nothing but a blood curdling scream that you realised was ripping though your own throat. All you could see was black, the dark was so dark you could hear it, maybe even taste it but you weren't sure if that was the dark or the taste of your own blood filling your mouth.

You awoke in a sterile room, that looked like it had been scrubbed floor to ceiling so many times the plaster was ready to fall off of the foundation. You went to cough, suddenly aware of the thick tube that had been shoved down your throat, you gagged around it, throat closing up in protest to the intruder before you felt it being pulled out by the gentle hand of who you assumed to be the nurse but when you looked up you saw a man with a mop of blonde hair and striking, crystal eyes. Dressed in a simple blue linen shirt that was half buttoned and tight black trousers.

He looked at you as if you had just created the world and given it to him on a silver platter.

“You're awake! They said you wouldn't wake up for another two days at least. I missed you so bad princess” he exclaimed, grabbing your hand and just as his lips where about to graze your knuckles, you screamed. And you screamed bloody murder, it go so high to the point where you were pretty sure only dogs could hear you.

Your eyes darted around the room looking for something to throw at the man in front of you, before landing on the bed pan on your bedside table. Gripping it tightly in the hand that wasn't hooked up to any machines, you swung for the stranger in front of you. Or who you at least thought was a stranger.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU CREEP” you screeched, your throat sore and scratchy, whether that was from the tubing or the screaming, you were unaware, but you knew that you wanted this man far away from you, you were only 18 and this guy looked around 30, if not slightly younger, but still weird.

“(Y/N) darling what's wrong?” he looked so hurt by what you said, you almost felt bad for the guy.

“I DON'T KNOW YOU! WHY ARE YOU HERE?” you saw the sheer pain flash in his eyes before he slumped into the chair beside you, looking as if the world you had given him was burning and crumbling before his eyes.

A dazed nurse walked over to you, so you assumed it was the small hours of the morning. “What seems to be the problem Mr . Taylor?” she asked the man sat in the chair next to you and all he did was point at you before his features broke completely tears tearing down his face at an alarming rate.

“I don't know who that is” you whispered to the woman, afraid to upset the man more though you did not know why you worried, or why your heart ached for him in the way it. A sinking feeling filling your stomach like a dark storm cloud stretching throughout your insides.

“Thats your boyfriend miss (Y/L/N)” she said to you “I'll call for the doctor” she mumbles to the sad stranger.

When the doctor finally come into the room you had been sitting with the man for around fifteen minutes, him weeping into his hands, looking up at you every once in a while just for you to stare blankly into his crystalline eyes making him sob even more. The doctor checked you over, shining lights in your eyes and all other kinds of bullshit you didn't take the time to remember, you were too busy trying to memorise “Mr . Taylor's” face .

“Roger” the doctor said in order to stir the man too deep in sadness to think of much else. “She has amnesia, it should begin to pass in a few weeks but you're going to have to help jog her memory. You can take her home now, make sure to bring her in weekly for a check up on her stitches okay?”

“uh... yeah definitely, I definitely will thank you doctor Phillips.”

The doctor turned to you and started unhooking you from the machines before helping you to your feet.

“Thank you” you mutter, an unexplained guilt still filling you whilst thinking of the sad stranger.

You let 'Roger' lead you out of the hospital and into his car, Wheel in the sky by journey playing faintly through the radio and you could've sworn you had deja vu of a moment just like this from a few years ago, a man with a blurry face sat in the drivers side singing his heart out and you told him you loved him. The memory was gone as soon as it appeared and your head spun from the concentration needed just to look around the car.

By the time you were at Rogers flat, his tears had dried but he was still snuffling his nose as if in an attempt to suck the emotion back into his body. “well we're home (Y/N)”

“I don't know this place” was all you could weakly whisper in response before stepping out of the car and towards the towering block of flats in front of you.

Stepping into the cramped flat you're hit with a wave of nostalgia, making you weak in the knees, Roger holds you up by your arm pits and leads you over to the sofa in the centre of the room allowing you too fall back onto it.

“You alright love? Do you need anything? Water? Crackers? Cheese on toast? Say the word and im on it okay? Just ask”

“Tell me about “us”” you say gesturing over the 'us' with air quotes and pointing to the seat at your side.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything Roger” that was the fist time you had said his name since the incident and just hearing it made him smile radiantly, the sun should've been ashamed to shine compared to the glowing smile of the man next to you.

“Well, I'll start with what actually happened a week ago eh?” you nodded at this suggestion.

You were walking home from work alone, I couldn't come to pick you up, and you were all alone. You were just walking on a clear patch of pavement when a driver swerved due to being drunk at the wheel. Majority of the blow hit a lamppost next to you but you also took some of the brunt, you were knocked out cold (Y/N), christ as soon as I found out I ran to the hospital to see you but they said they had to induce a temporary coma due to blood on the brain. I didn't know how long I could last without you princess, you keep me level headed and I love you for that... we all do; me, Brian, Fred, Deaky especially. I need you with me always my love you keep me sane.

“I'm so sorry I wasn't there when it happened baby, I'm so fucking sorry” you sighed and took his hand

“I might not remember you right now, but I know that what happened was not your fault and you have nothing to be sorry for” you said with a conviction which your voice had not had yet that day, you knew this man was good inside and out.

That week people came to the flat to visit you, never remembering peoples faces had a tendency to make them cry. Roger continued to tell you stories throughout the time some beginning to jog memories like the angelic car moment.

We had our first kiss the first time we met, it was at a shitty uni new years party, at least it was shitty unil I saw you. You took my breath away angel, when you spoke you had the voice of a songbird, and your body... fuck it was difficult not to just ask you for a cheeky shag to be completely honest. It reached midnight and I saw you stood alone so I took my chance and asked if I could kiss you. You had been drinking beer and I could still taste it on your tongue it was heavenly. That's when I decided I wanted to take you out, do things properly date.

Roger broke the news to you that you were in fact twenty-seven and not eighteen like you though you were. He broke the news to you that your mother had died a few years prior of breast cancer. He told you how much he loved you and slowly but surely you returning to normal, remembering small details as he told a story, even the mundane ones where you would be reading in one corner of the flat with him writing songs in the other, staring at each other every once in a while eyes just filled to the brim with love.

He reminded you of all the arguments.

All the love.

The first time you told him you loved him.

The first time he said it back, nearly six months later.

He hid nothing from you and it worked wonders.

One morning you woke on the bed with Roger not lying beside you, confused you stepped out of bed, before remembering your accident, the amnesia, the pain you put roger theough.

“Babe?” you called as you stepped through the flat towards the sofa and when Roger looked at you, he already knew you remembered, there was no slightly vacant look behind your eyes. You had returned to him, his baby had returned to him and he could hope for nothing more.

He jumped off the sofa wrapping his arms securely around you and holding you tightly, he wasn't going no lose you again not now, not ever.

“(Y/N) I was working up the courage to do this before the accident, looking for the perfect time but I've now realised there is no perfect time there is only the now and we're lucky if we get that so (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) will you marry me gorgeous”

You gasped softly at the look of adoration of Rogers face as he held and you nodded, holding an onslaught of tears.

“Yes, Rog, a thousand times yes”

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 years

Text

One Short Day

A JSE Fanfic

Yay, I wrote something that isn’t connected to pain for once in my life! Or at least, the most you get are hints and maybe a moment. I was planning on working on something else, but...I don’t know, I just felt like I needed something softer, and I’m sure there are people who need that too. So behold, an attempt at mostly-fluff! I just wanted to write the boys having fun out on the town, simple enough ^-^

It was rare that there was a full day they could all be together. A day where Schneep wasn’t working, Chase wasn’t recording, Marvin didn’t have a show, and Jackie didn’t have to bolt off at the last minute to do heroic vigilantism. A day where they could just do whatever they wanted, all of them, together.

They met up at Jackie’s apartment building. Naturally, JJ arrived first, then Schneep and Chase at about the same time. Just when they were starting to get worried, Marvin showed up, sprinting up to the group and skidding to a halt beside them.

“Late again, I see?” Jackie said when Marvin finally caught his breath. “Maybe we should just tell you we’re meeting thirty minutes earlier than we actually are.”

“Gimme a break.” Marvin rolled his eyes. “My phone was out of battery so I couldn’t check the time, then I got distracted.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “With what?”

“Um...” Marvin looked away, embarrassed. “I may have started playing Plague Inc...for an hour...or more.”

“Dude. Set a timer next time or something,” Chase said. “Ask JJ if you can borrow one of his watches if you have to, I dunno, anything.”

“Enough of this, we are wasting minutes,” Schneep said, checking his own watch. “Jackie decided what to do, what is it?”

Jackie immediately brightened. “Okay, so, we all know JJ hasn’t seen much of the town.” Everyone nodded. “So I thought we could give him the grand tour! Get lunch, go to the park, and I think the fair is open tonight so we can finish with that. That good with everyone?”

“So we’re just gonna walk all over town?” Chase asked. “Only two of us can drive, and none of us have a car right now.”

“Toughen up, Chase, walking’s good for you!” Marvin teased. “Right? Schneep, you’re a doctor, tell him I’m right.”

“He’s right,” Schneep said.

“See?!”

JJ snapped his fingers for attention. I thought we were wasting time? I certainly can’t lead the way, so I’ll ask one of you to.

“Right!” Jackie started off. “C’mon guys, lunch is waiting for us!”

They ended up at a local restaurant near the center of town called Kassie’s. It was a quaint little place, and since it was a warm day they decided to sit at a table outside. The chipper waitress gave them a plate of free fries, then took their order, and headed back inside.

“Is it just me, or is it kind of hot today?” Chase asked, fanning himself with some of the napkins.

“No, it’s not just you. God, I’m dying,” Jackie agreed.

“Jackie, you are not only wearing long sleeves, you are wearing two layers of them,” Schneep pointed out with a smile.

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Mr. Sweater-all-the-time!” Jackie rolled his eyes. “What about Jays? He’s got that vest/dress shirt on.”

JJ looked aghast. You four can run around and show your arms all you like, but I’ll have you know it isn’t proper for a gentleman!

“Are you implying we aren’t gentlemen?” Marvin asked, right before tossing a fry into the air and catching it in his mouth.

JJ raised an eyebrow. Indeed.

“I don’t care, it’s hot. I’m taking this off.” With a few flailing arms, Jackie pulled his hoodie over his head and tugged it off, revealing a Marvel-themed T-shirt underneath. “Ah. That’s better.” He looked around to see the others staring at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Holy shit, Jackie!” Chase yelled. “Your arm!”

“Wh—oh fuck I forgot I was wearing short sleeves today.” Jackie looked down at his left arm. “Yeah, okay, I got scars, you can look all you want.”

“So that’s why I’ve never seen you in T-shirts,” Marvin realized. “Jackie, what the fuck happened?”

Jackie frowned, then coughed awkwardly. “Y’know...I’d rather not talk about it right now. Maybe later. Besides, Schneep already knows the story. ‘S how we met.”

“Honestly, you three are making mountains out of mole hills,” Schneep said. “Is fine now. You should see his torso, now those are scars.”

That only made the other three look more worried. Jackie sighed. “Look, guys, we’re having a fun day. We’re gonna have fun, and not gonna get all concerned, though I do appreciate it. And you—” he glared at Schneep “—need to stop saying that, ‘cause it makes it sound like I lost some epic battle instead of just having top surgery.”

Chase and Marvin relaxed in unison. “I’m still convinced you have, I dunno, fucking bullet scars or something,” Marvin muttered as Chase pulled the remains of the fries towards him.

“Oh yeah, but Schneep’s talking about the surgery. He’s done this before, and it’s no longer funny!” Jackie looked pointedly at Schneep when saying that last part, who just responded with a massive grin.

JJ was the only one who still looked concerned, but now that was paired with confusion. He looked around at the others. What is top surgery?

You could almost hear the hiss as the others all inhaled sharply in unison. They’d all forgotten for a moment that JJ didn’t know. Schneep cleared his throat. “Jackie, would you like to explain?”

“Right yeah. God, where do I start with this?” There was a slight pause in the conversation as the waitress returned with their food. The moment she was out of earshot, Jackie started up again. “Alright, so...” he leaned forward, hands clasped together, eyes wide and nervous. “You know how I call myself Jackieboy Man, right?”

JJ nodded. A moniker I never understood, but yes.

“Well, I didn’t always call myself that. Neither did anyone else. Because, well, they all thought that...I was a, uh, girl. Even I did. For the longest time I just sort of...accepted it. I only started to figure it out in high school. I got my first job, and one of the customers called me ‘that nice lady,’ and hearing it...just sort of surprised me. Like someone gave the wrong answer to a really easy test question. So...I started thinking, and eventually I realized that I wasn’t...actually a girl. That was when I renamed myself.”

JJ didn’t look any less confused. Why would they not understand that? Wouldn’t they be able to...see that you are not?

Jackie winced. “Well, no...you see, I...fuck.” Jackie put his head in his hands, took a deep breath, then looked up again. “I was born...in the wrong body. Top surgery is...it’s to get rid of the parts I didn’t want. Are you...are you getting this now?”

After a moment, JJ’s eyes widened. He nodded hesitantly.

“Okay. Good. Great.” Jackie sighed. “I don’t know if this word existed in the twenties, but nowadays we have ‘transgender’ as...a thing. When someone is something other than what their body is born as. I’m still a he. Or, just, anything but she, really. Literally call me anything but a girl. And please, don’t ask about what my name was before. Or what’s...down there. Those questions make me...really uncomfortable.”

My good man! JJ signed. Why would I do such a rude thing? And to my dear friend, nonetheless.

Jackie’s shoulders slumped. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled in relief. He’d been dreading this conversation, but better to rip the bandaid off now. “Thanks, man. I...appreciate your understanding.”

JJ smiled. No trouble at all, Jackie! I may not fully grasp the concept, but that’s no reason to disrespect your wishes.

“If you want, I can answer questions. Just...later. And as long as you get I don’t represent everyone who’s trans.”

JJ nodded and gave a thumbs-up. There was silence for a moment, before Chase broke it by saying “Hey, guys, I made a Jenga tower out of fries.”

Schneep rolled his eyes, and immediately knocked over Chase’s tower.

“Aw you bitch!” Chase gasped. “You didn’t even play the game right!”

“Fuck your games. Actually eat the food like it’s supposed to be.”

“You’re just jealous cause you got a salad instead.”

“Maybe I am! Did you think of that?!”

“Dude, I just said I did!”

The rest of lunch was covered in the blanket of familiar banter. Jackie smiled to himself. God, he was so glad nothing changed.

About two hours later, the boys had made their way to the southern part of the city. That was where the park was. It had an official name, but everyone just called it “the park” because there was only one of them and it was shorter. The park itself was pretty big, with trees, paths, flowerbeds, and two playgrounds at either end.

Since it was the middle of the afternoon, there were quite a few families with young children hanging around, parents watching their kids climb all over the jungle gyms and pushing them on the swings. While Marvin and Jackie walked ahead, pulling JJ with them and talking his ears off, Chase and Schneep hung back a bit. Chase was staring at the families on the playground.

“Chase? Are you okay?” Schneep asked gently.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m fine. It’s not a down day.” Schneep gave him a Look. “No, really! It’s just...y’know, seeing all the kids kinda bums me out. You know?”

“Of course I do, Chase,” Schneep said. He was probably the only one of the boys who did. “If you are feeling upset, you can go home.”

“No! God, no, that’s not what I meant at all. This has been good so far. I don’t want it to end.” Chase frowned. “Now I’m just...man. I’m starting to lose it.”

“Chase.” Schneep grabbed his hand. “If you are not enjoying yourself, we can always go do something more quiet. We would hate to push you to do something you are not up to.”

Chase considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, it’s not too bad. It helps that you guys are here, I think. But I’ll let you know...if it gets too much.”

Schneep gave him a long look, before finally judging that everything was alright. “Okay. You have to do that, or I am going to break into your home at night and yell at you for lying.”

“Okay, okay, I get the idea,” Chase laughed. He looked down at their clasped hands. “You’re not worried people are gonna think we’re a couple, then?”

“What? Oh. Is there no such thing as regular hand-holding in this country?! Besides, it should not fucking matter. Also you are not my type anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re not mine, either. You’re a guy.” Chase and Schneep both had a good laugh at that.

Marvin looked over his shoulder at the two of them. “Are you two gonna walk fast or what?”

“Or what,” Chase said with a smirk.

“Oh, you’re hilarious. A fucking comedic genius. Hey guys!” he said that last part to Jackie and JJ. “We’re gonna slow down so these two assholes can join us.”

“Marvin, how dare you,” Schneep said, mock-offended. “At least be more creative in your insulting us.”

“No.” The two mini-groups merged together to form the main group once again. “So what’re you two talking about?”

“Chase is worried that hand-holding makes a couple,” Schneep tattled.

“Bullshit,” Marvin stated. Jackie went “yeah!” in the background. JJ frowned at the use of language, but nodded. “What makes a couple is the kissing. And romantic interest in each other, which leads to the former.”

“You say, having not been on a date in at least five months,” Jackie muttered.

“Shut your stupid face, you...lovely person.” Marvin pulled his wand out of his pocket and twirled it, like he did when he was nervous. “We’ve all been kinda busy lately.”

“Yeah...that’s true,” Jackie sighed. “But maybe if you went out more, you could find someone you could go out with. Just once, if a commitment isn’t your thing right now.”

Marvin frowned. “Why in the wide world of wingmen would I go on a date once deliberately?”

“A night of fun?” Schneep suggested.

“With a complete stranger that I have no interest in? No. I need to have some intrigue in whoever they end up being.”

“None of you are gonna get anywhere with him,” Chase said. “He doesn’t get one-night stands.”

“Damn right I don’t! There’s no point!”

And it just seems improper, JJ signed. If you aren’t going to court someone, don’t approach them at all.

“Marvin! You have an ally!” Jackie gasped.

“Good. Finally, someone who agrees with me.” Marvin held up his hand and, after a moment of figuring out, JJ high-fived it. “Yeah! There we go, you got it!”

Jackie checked the time on his phone. “Alright, it’s starting to get a bit late. If we want to get enough time at the fair, we’re gonna have to book it to the eastern side.”

They didn’t actually run the whole way there, despite Jackie wanting to. By the time they got to the fair the sun was starting to set. They bought tickets and headed inside, where the Ferris wheel and the roller coaster towered over the smaller rides and the carnival games. It was a weekday, but it was one of the first days the fair was open, so the fairgrounds were crowded but not packed.

Chase gasped. “Games. We can do the games first.”

You do realized they’re all rigged, right? JJ asked.

“Who cares? They’re fun! Games now.”

Soon, the others started to suspect that the reason Chase was so eager to play games was because he knew he would win every time. The dude was scarily good. A combination of sheer luck, skill, and fuck-it-let’s-take-a-chance-ness led to many more victories than the others, something Marvin and Schneep immediately called him out for.

“You are cheating, I am sure of it!” Schneep huffed, folding his arms.

“Nah, just have a knack for it. And, in this case, practice.” Chase tossed one of the wooden balls back and forth while he waited for the carnival worker to hand him his prize. “Ya gotta aim for a bit above the spot where the third jug sits on top of the other two, then throw hard. It’s a bit of an arc.”

“No, you’re a cheater,” Marvin asserted, muttering darkly.

“Aw, c’mon! Here, will this make you less salty?” Chase accepted his stuffed prize from the worker, then handed it right over to Marvin. “I got it for you! You like cats.”

Marvin glared down at the plushie. “You’re lucky it has a cute face,” he said.

“See?!” Chase smiled. He was actually having a good time. It was a good change of pace from the park.

Eventually, everyone had a prize except for JJ. They were running out of games to play, but then Jackie spotted one of those ‘find the ball under the shuffling cups.’ “Hey guys, you up for that one?”

JJ brightened. I’m actually quite skilled at those!

“Well, then, let’s go!” Jackie pulled him over, the others in tow.

The carnival worker was calling out the rules of the game. “You get one, you win one of these lovely roses, you get two in a row, you win one of these tiny fellows here, and you get three in a row, you win one of these adorable penguins! Step right up, step right up!”

“Hey!” Jackie waved to get the worker’s attention. “We want to play!”

“Well then, young sirs, the rules are simple. Keep your eye on the ball, see right here, right here, it’s under the middle cup. Now watch as I take the cup this way, then that, then this and oh look at that! It’s goin’ fast, it’s goin’ fast don’t lose it don’t lose it! Now, which one is the ball under?”

Jackie was fairly sure he knew where it was, but he turned to JJ anyway. “So, which one?” he asked.

JJ bit his lip, then reached forward to point at one of the cups...only for the worker to slap his hand away. “I’m sorry sir, please don’t touch the cups. To prevent tamperin’, see? Just tell me.”

JJ looked a bit stunned at the worker’s aggressive tone. But he signed It’s under the left one.

“Excuse me?”

“He says it’s under the left one,” Marvin jumped in.

“...ah, I see.” The worker lifted up the cup to reveal the ball. “Seems you were right. Do you want to try again?”

The boys glanced uneasily between each other. The worker’s tone had dropped from the polite-carnival talk to one that was a bit...short. She was also talking much slower than she was before, drawing out the vowel sounds. “He can hear you perfectly fine,” Chase said. “He just can’t talk.”

“Mmm...I see...” The worker pursed her lips. “Do you want to try again?”

They all nodded. The worker was silent this time as she shuffled the cups, faster than before. When she stopped, she looked at Jackie. “Which one is the ball under?”

Jackie had a vague idea where, but he wasn’t sure. “JJ, do you know?”

The left one again, JJ signed, less enthusiastically.

“The left,” Jackie translated.

The worker frowned as she revealed the ball under the left cup. “You boys aren’t cheating, are you? Those weird gestures seem like symbols.”

Marvin laughed bitterly. “Yeah, they’re symbols alright. They stand for words. Do you not know how sign language fucking works? He’s telling us the answers ‘cause he’s the best one at it. Now let’s do this one more time.”

The worker shuffled the cups impossibly fast. Once more, she asked Jackie where the ball was. This time, he had no idea, and just looked at JJ. JJ, in turn, stiffened a bit, eyes hardening. It’s under the right one, though I wouldn’t put it past her to sneak it up her sleeve.

“Right,” all the boys said in unison.

The worker reluctantly lifted up the rightmost cup to show the ball sitting underneath. “Congratulations,” she said dully. “You win one of the big prizes. What color do you want?”

Turquoise, JJ signed. “Turquoise,” Jackie translated.

They walked away from the booth in silence. After a few moments of walking, Marvin said, “I could totally put a curse on her.”

“No,” Jackie said firmly.

“Just one little spell. She can lose her voice for a week.”

JJ shook his head, then tucked his prize under his arm so he could use his hands to sign. Revenge is never the best answer.

“It’s what she deserves!” Marvin snarled. “She was making that difficult on purpose. I saw her, she was going much slower with the customers before us. JJ, I’m so absolutely sorry on her behalf, cause god knows she’s not gonna fucking apologize.”

It’s okay, JJ insisted. Believe it or not, I’ve faced worse, especially in my day. They were much less friendly back then.

“I am sure you are not using that word in the correct meaning,” Schneep mumbled.

Marvin shoved his hand into the pocket containing his wand. “One hex. Come on. Just one. I won’t even make her ears fall off or anything.”

Everyone refused to let Marvin curse the carnival worker, and he reluctantly relented. At this point, they’d finished with the games, and all that was left were the rides. They took turns, one or two of them sitting out to watch the accumulated prizes while the others spun and flew and then stumbled off the rides. After trying most of the rides out, they took a snack break for ice cream and cotton candy.

“I think the Ferris wheel is the only one left,” Jackie said. “Unless we want to catch that sideshow thing. There’s supposed to be magicians—”

“Fake,” Marvin interrupted.

“—clowns, animals, and they advertised a knife-thrower—”

Schneep nearly choked on his ice cream. “No.”

“Okay, got it. No show then.” Jackie nodded. “But I’m not too sure about the Ferris wheel. I know at least one of us is afraid of heights.”

“Yeah, uh, me.” Chase bit his lip. “But I think I’ll be fine if I don’t look over the edge. Unless someone else doesn’t want to go on it, then I’ll stay off with them.”

“I’m good,” Jackie said. “Schneep? Marv? Either of you scared of heights?” Both of them shook their heads. “Alright. JJ?”

JJ signed, A bit, but after all these dizzy rides, I’ll take something calm like the Ferris wheel, if you please.

“Alright. Guess we’re going on the wheel, then!”

Night had truly fallen by this point. The Ferris wheel wasn’t exceptionally tall, but it still rose above everything else in the fair, providing a fantastic view of the colored lights below. Instead of having the traditional two-person seats, this wheel had booths that could fit up to eight people, so all the boys fit into one just fine. The wheel turned, and the booth turned with it. Chase squirmed, resolutely not looking over the side. Jackie and Marvin did the exact opposite, practically leaning out of the booth to look down below.

JJ tapped Schneep, signing something real quick. Schneep nodded, then yelled “Can you two stop that?! You are going to fall out of the fucking side, and you are making Jamie nervous.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jackie sat back down.

“Aww,” Marvin groaned, but pulled back into his seat. “I hope you know I do this for you, JJ.”

JJ smiled. Thank you, it’s appreciated. And I’m sure your body feels the same way, having narrowly avoided a fall to great injury.

“Nah, I would’ve been fine.”

The wheel stopped. Their booth was right at the top. “Oh, fuck,” Chase muttered, covering his eyes with his hands.

“You know, you didn’t have to come,” Jackie said quietly. “We would’ve been alright letting you stay down on the ground.”

Chase peeked between his hands. “I know. But...it’s really nice up here. Quiet. And with just you guys. As long as I ignore the distance from the ground, I’m good. You’re my friends, you know, and you make everything better.”

“Oh, Chase,” Marvin gasped. “That’s...really sweet!”

“What? Didn’t think we where friends?”

“It’s...always nice to be reminded.” Marvin smiled softly.

Well then consider this your reminder, Marvin! JJ wiggled his mustache happily. I consider you all my friends, maybe even family. You are all wonderful people and I love having you in my life!

“Nooo, stop.” It was hard to see in the dark, only lit up by the lightbulbs on the Ferris wheel, but it was possible that Marvin was actually blushing.

“You know what? I love you guys.” Jackie grinned. “Not afraid to admit it! Best friends I’ve ever had.”

Schneep cleared his throat. “Yes, I feel the same. You are all great people, and I am fortunate to have met you. I...love you as well.”

“Aaaahck!” Marvin appeared to be trying to fold into himself. “Too much love! Fatality!”

Chase chuckled. “Marvin! Accept our love!”

We love you, Marvin! JJ signed eagerly. Now you have to say it back!

Marvin made a strange sort of groaning exhale before inhaling deeply, calming down. “Yeah...I—I love you guys too. God, I love you guys so much. You should all know that.”

“There we go!” Jackie said, triumphant. “Marvin, you are, truly, the emotionally constipated one. And I thought Schneep was the worst.”

“Excuse me?!” Schneep gasped. “I assure you I am very love-sharing. I just do not use words too much because they are complicated.”

“Understandable,” Chase shrugged. “I can barely speak half the time, and I was born in English.”

I thought you were born in Ireland, JJ signed, amused.

“Oh, you know what I mean!”

The Ferris wheel started lowering, stopping and starting as it let passengers off. The boys stepped out of the booth and onto land once again.

JJ yawned. I must say that I’m rather tired after all this. I think it’s time we go home.

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel it,” Jackie agreed.

“You all are weak!” Marvin countered. “I’m good for another couple hours.”

“Watch you crash immediately upon entering your room,” Chase laughed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I think JJ is right,” Jackie said. “It’s time to go home.”

Schneep nodded. “Yes, I could stay up longer, but I have morning shift tomorrow so I should not push my luck. I will see you all later?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Course, dude!”

“Definitely.”

Count on it!

With that, they left the fair. Eventually they split up, each heading their own separate ways until they eventually got to wherever they were staying that night. Some went to sleep immediately, some stayed up a bit later, but eventually they all went to bed.

And when they decided to do it, none of them had trouble for once.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #jameson jackson #brigid writes fanfiction

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