#its cold and flu season babe! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

terrm9 · 3 years

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!!! WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH; DEATH; FUNERAL; TRAUMA; ALCOHOL CONSUMING; SUICIDAL THOUGHTS; MENTIONS OF ILLNESS

seriously guys this is very very very dark and angsty, there is no glimpse of anything else.

Author’s note: okay, the angsty fic is here. PLEASE, read the warnings and consider if you want to read it. I would hate to cause some triggering feelings in anyone, so please if you are not sure, DO NOT READ. The story will not be relevant for any other of my fics, it is really just angsty one-shot that I needed to write and will not be mentioned ever again. You won’t miss anything important because my other fics will be pure fluff again - there is a fluffy fic about Ramsey family coming where they are all happy and healthy and very much alive. (for more notes, see the end of the story)

„You are overreacting, babe,“ Chiara chuckled and wrapped herself tighter into the sheets.

„You literally just called me ‚babe‘,“ Ethan rolled his eyes. „I have every reason to be overreacting.“

Chiara laughed – or she tried to laugh, the sound soon turning into painful groans.

„It’s just the flu, Ethan. Really, I am doctor and a capable one, so stop questioning my judgement on my own flu. It’s flu season after all. It sucks but I’ll be fine in no time.“

Ethan was not as sure, not at all. Her strained voice and burning forehead kept his mind on the edge.

„I promise I’ll let you take me to the hospital if I don’t feel better in the morning,“ Chiara added as she noticed the wrinkle of concern between his brows.

„Okay,“ Ethan nodded relucantly and kissed her cheek softly. „Now, let’s try to get some sleep. And wake me up if you need pills or water or anything.“

Nodding, Chiara shut her eyes and allowed herself to hope that the throbbing headache would disappear by the morning.

Switching the lights off, Ethan took Chiara’s sweaty hand into his a put another gentle kiss on her knuckles.

„I love you,“ he whispered into the dark room, not sure if Chiara heard him.

„I love you more,“ she whispered back, a small smile on her lips.

Ethan chuckled, the fact that Chiara couldn’t resist to play the little competition with him even now giving his mind the peace it so much needed to sleep.

Impossible, he thought before letting the sleep overtake him.

The sharp, bright rays of a sun that has risen long time ago made Ethan stir in the bed. He didn’t even check the clock, his hand already reaching for Chiara – she was the first thing on his mind every morning and this one was no exception.

With his eyes still half closed, he put his palm on her forehead and a relief washed over him at the feeling of cold skin under it.

The fever was gone.

The relief lasted mere seconds, however. Mere seconds until the words ‚cold skin‘ echoed in Ethan’s mind again.

Her skin was cold. Not feverish, not warm and not the way it normally was.

It was cold.

Cold.

Ethan sat up in an instant, the last traces of sleep long gone. He turned his head to see Chiara clearly and the terrifying, dreadful knot formed in his stomach.

Chiara looked as if she was sleeping very deeply.

But Ethan knew better. Ethan knew that Chiara has never been a deep sleeper.

„No,“ he whispered as he kneeled next to her and pulled the sheets of her.

She was pale. Her lips had the unnatural shade of purple. She was not in a deep sleep – her chest wasn’t moving up and down with her every breath. It wasn’t moving at all.

There were no breaths.

Ethan slapped her; slapped her really hard.

Chiara didn't move. The skin on her cheek didn't get flushed by the harsh contact with Ethan's palm.

"What the fuck are you doing, Chiara?" Ethan screamed at her while laying her down on the floor, as gently as ever.

But there was a part of his brain that was starting to fathom the truth, the part that knew exactly what Chiara was doing.

And that there was no need to be gentle with her anymore.

His head was spinning. Years of medicine worth nothing with the hands shaking so hard he couldn’t perform a proper CRP.

Ethan grabbed a phone and realized it was Chiara’s the moment his own face looked back at him from her locked screen.

He wanted to throw it across the room, to break it. But then, does it really matter whose phone do you use when you need to call 911?

He dialed the number, put the phone on a speaker and got back to pumping Chiara’s chest, praying to God he stopped believing in long time ago that any force that made Chiara’s heart stop could make it beat again under his hands.

The morning became a bizzare blur of action, fear and emptiness with Ethan dictating his adress to the phone one moment and sprinting to open the door for the paramedics the second, not giving them a chance to ask questions before he was kneeling next to Chiara’s motionless – lifeless – body.

The shock on all of the paramedics‘ and Dr. Stock’s face at the sigh of Dr. Ramsey in his pajama bottoms and trembling hands and Dr. Ray on the ground was evident – after all, they knew both doctors. They worked with them for years.

The young paramedic man – Ethan felt like his name was Eric, but maybe that was a pure lie his mind made up – pushed Ethan gently aside and started to perform a CRP himself, while Dr. Stock – a man Ethan’s age – asked him many questions.

When did you find her? What happened before? Was it a long time before you called us?

But Ethan couldn’t answer. Ethan didn’t know. Was it an hour or a day? What happened? He had no idea what happened. He wished he knew what happened and he also wished he would never have to find out.

Dr. Stock knelt down next to the young paramedic and with a solemn nod gestured him to stop with the CRP.

He checked Chiara’s pulse, he foricbly opened her eyes and observed them, he gave her feet a light tap.

And then he shook his head softly.

The three paramedics – two younger men and one older woman – shared a look and all of them checked their watches at once.

„8:08 AM,“ one of them spoke quietly and raised his eyebrow, a question for the doctor.

„Write that down for now,“ Dr. Stock nodded and stood up. „The autopsy should tell us more.“

The autopsy. 8.08 AM. They way they stopped with the resurrecting. Stopped with trying.

As if there was no point in trying anymore.

Ethan didn’t quite register everything going on around him. He wanted to throw up. He felt like fainting. Screaming. Knocking and throwing fists.

He hadn’t done any of those.

He kept standing on the spot, frozen and unable to move. He didn’t want their words and their actions to make sense.

"Sir - Dr. Ramsey - we are sorry."

The paramedic put a sympathetic hand on Ethan's shoulder, her eyes concerned. Perhaps it was supposed to bring some steadiness into his breaths, however the result was the opposite.

"I don't need your sorry," he shook her hand down and took two steps back.

The two other paramedics along with Dr. Stock wheeled the stretcher with Chiara’s body on it out of the bedroom, throwing one last glance at Ethan's trembling figure.

"Stop looking like that," he was screaming now. "Stop with the sorry and those looks, there's no need for them, there's no need for them."

His voice was cracking and the little part of his brain that wasn't completely coated in denial whispered 'Please tell me there's no need for them'.

"You are taking her to hospital, right? That's good, that's great," he muttered but noticing the exchange of their worried glances, his rage came back.

"Just STOP! Take her to the hospital, make her feel better! Make this okay!"

The tree men left the room, however the woman remained standing next to him.

„Why are you still here?“ Ethan asked.

„We already informed Chief Banerji, Dr. Ramsey. He asked one of us to stay with you until he arrives here.“

Ethan shrugged and turned away before replying.

„There is no need for that. You can go. Or at least leave the room, I am going to get changed.“

The paramedic didn’t look happy about his command but left the room anyway and Ethan opened his closet to choose a shirt for the day.

What a busy morning, he thought. At least Chiara is in the hospital now. I will be better at taking care for her there.

He almost laughed at the situation. They were supposed to go to the opera tonight and instead, she ended up in a hospital with the flu.

Maybe he could stop at the Derry Roasters and buy her some good coffee. But then, she probably doesn’t have the appetite and it would be just a waste of time.

No, he will go straight to the hospital. She will surely be confused when she wakes up in a hospital bed.

Ethan just finished tying the knot on his tie when the door to the bedroom opened and Naveen stepped in.

His face was grave and his eyes red, as if he was crying recently.

„Ethan,“ he said softly, not entirely sure what kind of reaction was he expecting.

„Naveen,“ Ethan nodded in a greeting. „I am sorry but I won’t even invite you for a coffee. I can’t be late for work.“

„I don’t think you should go to work today, Ethan.“

„I can’t see why not. I want to be there when Chiara wakes up.“

Every single cell in Ethan’s body, every single atom in it denied the truth. The new reality.

Ethan couldn’t admit what was happening and he wasn’t going to.

„Chiara is not going to wake up, Ethan,“ Naveen whispered, his voice broken.

„Oh, she is,“ Ethan laughed shortly, waving his hand in the air. „She has a nasty flu, but now that she is in the hospital, it’s going to be okay. They took her to Edenbrook, right?“

„They took her to Edenbrook’s morgue. Chiara is dead, Ethan.“

The air stopped moving around them.

The clock on the wall stopped ticking.

Neither of the men – the friends – moved for a long moment.

The truth has finally found its way into Ethan’s brain. His cells were not able to deny it any longer.

Dr. Banerji was ready to catch Ethan if he falls. If he faints.

But there was no need to catch him.

Ethan cleared his throat and nodded once again.

„Yes, right. Right. I need to call her mother and let her know. The funeral will probably take place in San Francisco, so we need to take care of the transport of her body.“

Naveen recognized what was happening. He has seen the scenario many times in his career as a doctor. The husbands that lost their wives, the sisters that lost their brothers – the first reaction was not always a breakdown.

Sometimes, the defensive mechanism was a forced rationality.

„I will inform Mrs. Ray. In the name of the hospital.“

„I should do it,“ Ethan replied stubbornly.

He wanted to fight with Naveen. He wanted to tell Diana Ray that her daughter died on his watch.

He wanted to take care of a funeral.

He needed to.

„Let me handle it,“ Naveen insisted.

After a long moment, Ethan agreed.

As he muttered silent ‚alright‘, little did he know that those would be the last word he would say in days.

Naveen left the room and Ethan’s glance fell on the bed.

Their bed. Her bed. The bed she died in.

The bed she died in.

She died.

She died and there was no way to reverse the fact.

It hit him like a wave, a wave one would never believe could be formed in such calm waters.

Dead. Gone.

Ethan fell on his knees and the room was filled with a desperate scream.

His scream, he realized.

It was as if the world as he has known it stopped existing in the moment Ethan’s knees met the floor.

His hands formed into tight fists and he punched the wood once, twice, he kept punching until his knuckled were all bruised and bloody.

He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Naveen heart broke at the sight in front of him as he opened the bedroom door.

The man he considered son curled up on the floor, screaming and crying and clearly not registering the room around him.

The back of Ethan’s throat was burning from all the screaming and his temples were throbbing from all the crying.

There was a gentle hand on his shoulder and Ethan believed it to be Naveen’s, but how could he be sure?

How could he ever be sure of anything anymore?

How could he be anymore?

The time stopped existing for Ethan after his first breakdown. Whether it was a day or a night, he didn’t know and he didn’t care.

The days became one and they were all coated in a thick fog, precluding Ethan to remember them.

It is as if there was a window in his mind that swallowed the memories of the first days after Chiara’s death, leaving only occasional snippets to torture his mind.

Ethan remembers the moment Chiara’s mother Diana, her sister Alicia and her aunt Livia stepped into his apartment. He remembers not being able to say a word to them and he remembers their gazes – broken and vain.

He remembers how Diana’s gaze is something more even – so, so distant.

She is sedated, Alicia explained to Naveen, who hasn’t left Ethan’s apartment. She kept fainting and her doctor presribed her the strongest pills.

Alicia cries the whole time and Chiara’s aunt Livia bites her lower lip so hard it never stops bleeding.

He remembers how he wanted to say that he was sorry, wanted to explain, but no sound left his mouth.

Ethan doesn’t sleep and doesn’t eat.

He hasn’t even cried since his breakdown. He just stands by the window, hand deep in his pockets and stares out of it – never saying a word to anyone.

Lost in the fog.

He remember the moment Chiara’s autopsy results come with the meningitis as the cause of her death.

The quickest, deadliest form, Naveen tries to explain. There was nothing that could have been done.

Ethan knows that that is a lie.

The hate he feels towards himself grows impossibly bigger at Naveen’s words – of course there was something that could have been done.

He is the best diagnostician in the country and he let his fianceé die while sleeping next to her.

He failed. Himself. Chiara. Chiara’s mother. Everyone and everything.

Chiara mentioned a stiff neck – that was it. That was a clear sign of the illness so how could he overlook it?

Why did he let her persuade him that it was just a fucking flu?

He still doesn’t cry. He grits his teeth and his hands formed in fists – always in fists – cause his nails to break the skin on the palms.

He should get ready for a funeral. They all should leave to San Francisco.

But nobody moves. Nobody is strong enough to make a first move.

That’s when Bryce Lahela walks into Ethan’s apartment, his eyes haunted and sobs leaving his body as he hugs Diana and Alicia.

Ethan remembers what happens next very well.

Most clearly of everything, it seems.

Chiara left this with me some weeks ago, Lahela speaks quietly while pulling an envelope out of his pocket. In case something happens to her.

It’s a letter. A letter Ethan doesn’t want to read but know he needs to.

My dearest,

now is the right time to use the Hollywood cliché and I am going to do it.

If you are reading this letter it means I am dead.

And I am sorry. I am so very, very sorry because I know I have hurt you all terribly. And that’s something I never wanted to do.

Mom and Alicia – I failed. I remember how we promised each other that nothing would ever happen to us after dad and Liam died and now I broke my promise. Again, I am sorry. You still have each other – please remember that. And you still have me. Just as you still have dad and Liam. We are with you wherever you go, I promise. You know how much I believe in an afterlife – and with that, I cannot only be sorry for dying, because it also means I finally get to be reunited with them and that makes me happy. Let it make you happy too. Alicia, I am the proudest older sister and I beg you to continue with your life, to find your happiness and to follow your wild heart, just as you always have.

I would also like to ask for a favor – I know that I always wanted to be buried next to my brother. I know you want me to be buried in San Francisco. But Boston is my home now. And Boston is where Ethan is. Me and Ethan, we are forever. In any form. And if I am dead, I want to be resting forever next to him – find me a place in Boston, please. Ask him where he wants me to be buried and bury me there.

I love you both. I love you more than life.

Bryce – thank you. I wish you never had to deliver this letter, but I am eternaly thankful that I have had you to do it. Thank you for being part of my life. You were the brother I lost and you were my constant. No matter how stormy my life got, I knew that somwhere out there, there is my sun, my light Bryce, my safe port I could always run to when things became too much. You deserve all the happiness this world has to provide, Bryce Lahela and never settle for anything less than that. Please, let eveyrone else know how much I loved them – and how sorry I am. Sienna, Jackie, Aurora, Elijah and Rafael – my bestest of friends.

Forgive me for screwing this, Bryce. I know we had plans and I know you were looking forward to the wedding – me too. I love you, surfer boy. Always stay so irresistably amazing.

Oh and I think you really should ask Kyra for that date.

Ethan – my dearest Ethan. My greatest love. My forever. We have both believed in a different future for us, but we were destined for this. I am sorry I left without saying a proper goodbye. I am sorry I left you, period. You know how much I love you, Ethan. And I know how much you love me too – trust me, I do. Don’t torture yourself with regrets of not telling me more. I have always known. I have always felt loved with you and I have always felt happy. Until my last moment, I felt happy because I knew you loved me. I know that no matter what caused my death, you blame yourself for it and I need you to stop with that. Unless you killed me, you are not responsible for my dying.

Ethan Jonah Ramsey, you deserve a lifetime of happiness. I am sorry I ruined that for you, for I know that there is no happiness in your life now. But you still have a lifetime. Lifetime of chances, lifetime of love and friendships and miracles (stop muttering that you don’t believe in those, I know you are doing it now!!!). There are people who love you deeply and unconditionaly and those people will help you. Don’t push them away.

We deserved better. You deserved better, Ethan. We had plans, we had a wedding date, we had a vision of a beautiful future and that has been taken away from you, from us. But I have been part of your life and I am not truly gone as long as you remember me.

Please, never forget that there were five years in your life when you have been loved so deeply and so strongly it didn’t even make sense to the person that loved you sometimes. I will never stop loving you, no matter where I am and where I am not.

You are my greatest love and greatest adventure and I am proud of the man I had the honor of calling mine.

Find your happiness again, Ramsey. Find it and keep it. Love again. Laugh again. Live again.

I am somwhere there, watching you.

I loved you, I love you and I will love you always, Ethan.

So, that’s it. If someone cares about my last wish, do you think you could arrange for Benedict Cumberbatch to crash my funeral and shout: „She was clever. Clever, yes! She’s cleverer than you lot and she’s dead!“ ? (it’s the scene from S01E01 in Sherlock, you know).

Haha this was a joke but I suppose nobody really laughs at it at the moment. I hope one day you will.

I love you all with my whole heart.

Don’t you fear for me, I am where I am supposed to be.

-forever yours, Chiara.

Ethan reads the letter over and over until he can’t anymore, until his hands are shaking so much he fears he would tear the paper, until his vision is blurry and he cannot read the words anymore.

And then he runs. He runs into to bathroom and throws up, even though he hasn’t eaten in days and there is nothing he could throw up.

He still does.

He coughs and acid that leaves his mouth burns his throat. He throws up and his whole body strains so much it brings tears into his eyes.

First tears after days and they are caused by the vomiting.

Once they are there, however, the first one is followed by another and that by another until Ethan Ramsey is hunched over his toilet seat, vomit and tears falling down.

He doesn’t remember anything after that.

He might’ve fainted and maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. He doesn’t know.

The last thing he remembers until the day of the funeral comes is Harper Emery and her stern gaze as she sits down next to him.

"Take the pills, Ethan. You need to sleep.“

"I need Chiara."

His voice is raspy and speaking for the first time in three days feels unnatural. It makes his thorat sore and takes another remnant of his energy away.

"I understand."

Ethan almost snickers at the absurdity of her statement. Nobody could understand. Because if anybody could comprehend his desire to just wrap his arms around Chiara for one last time, they wouldn't survive the pain that came with it. He doesn't snicker, however. Instead, he whispers.

"No you don't."

"I do," Harper replies firmly and takes a deep breath, deciding to tell Ethan about the man she has never mentioned before, not once in their relationship.

„Michael and I were together for three years. We met while I was in a med school and the flame between us burned almsot immediately. We fell in love and for the first – and the last – time in my life, I felt like I found my true love. But we weren’t meant to last. The relationship was too passionate, too stubborn, too exciting, too much. It became toxic and we had a very rough breakup. I moved on and I knew that we were better off, but there was this part of me that always knew that Michael was the only man I could see my forever with.“

„It was my fifth year at Edenbrook when there was an emergency surgery needed for a motorbike rider and I was the one to perform it. I didn’t need to look twice to recognize Michael – with his face all bloody and bruised and awful, I knew it was him. And I didn’t tell anyone because they wouldn’t let me perform the surgery and I needed to do that. I needed to save him.“

Ethan doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look at Harper – he just keeps staring out of the window. He is surprised but he doesn’t show any emotion.

„I didn’t save him. He died on that table, he died under my hands. For so long I felt like I killed him. I blamed myself, I thought that if someone else did the surgery, they would keep him alive.“

She trailes off and doesn’t give Ethan the answer he needs.

He doesn’t find out is she ever stopped blaming herself.

He doesn’t know if there is a chance that he could ever stop blaming himself.

Ethan doesn’t cry at the funeral.

He is sitting on the front bench in the cathedral, next to Diana, Alicia and Livia.

He doesn’t want to sit there. He doesn’t deserve to sit them.

Can’t they see that it was his fault? That there would be no funeral if he only did his job right?

Alicia cries softly, her lips trembling. Diana, just like Ethan, doesn’t cry – no, she even smiles a little. It is the effect of her sedatives and Ethan knows that she probably won’t even remember the funeral.

Seeing Chiara’s smiling mother hurts more than seeing her crying sister.

The whole ceremony is filled with tears and love. Because everyone loved Chiara and Chiara loved everyone.

And Ethan just sits in his spot, staring at the casket, his gaze never leaving the wood it is made of.

And he doesn’t cry.

He wishes he would. He wishes the tears could get him through the day.

But he doesn’t and there is nothing to get him through the day.

People shake his hand and say their condolences and he keeps nodding and murmuring fake „thank you’s“.

He wishes he could go home, only to realize that there is not a single promise of some kind of peace with returning home.

There is no home for him anymore. There is an apartment. A place to live.

His home is gone. His home is lying in a wooden casket. His home is having ground scatterd all over her.

His home is buried six feet under him.

He is destined to be homeless forever.

Days go by and Ethan doesn’t come back to work – not that anyone expects him to.

His days consist of staring out of the window and sitting next to the toilet in case he needs to vomit again.

People insist on staying with him. Alan and Naveen mostly.

But he doesn’t want their company. He doesn’t want their compassion even.

He wants to be alone and to let his guilt and regrets kill him slowly.

He wants his medical licence removed. He should be charged for killing someone out of negligence.

He doesn’t want to be Ethan Ramsey anymore.

And he always expects Chiara to come back to him. He checks his phone for a message from her. He walks into the living room and it surprises him that there is no stupid movie playing on the TV – the one only Chiara would watch.

He opens the fridge and is shocked when he sees that the Toblerone chocolate is still there – how did Chiara not eat it already?

It is one evening, weeks after the funeral, when Ethan opens a drawer in the bedroom and jolts into Chiara’s perfume that meets the floor with surprising force and the bottle breaks into dosens of pieces.

The smell – Chiara’s smell – hits him with a force of a train and Ethan stumbles involuntarily at the feeling.

He broke her perfume bottle and it doesn’t matter anymore.

Because Chiara will never use the perfume anymore.

She is not coming back.

Ethan chokes on his sobs and leaves the room, his decision suddenly thoroughly clear.

There is no world in which he could live if the world is one where Chiara doesn’t live.

He can’t do it.

He can’t stay alive if she is dead.

Grabbing a bottle of scotch, he fills the glass and drinks the liquor in one swing.

Then the second.

Then the third.

There are the sleeping pills Harper has brought him on the counter and Ethan knows.

For the first time in weeks, he has a plan.

The plan that is supposed to be his last one also.

Chiara asked him in the letter to go on with his life. She promised him that there are better days waiting for him.

How could she? She was dead. Dead and gone and indifferent to everything she left behind.

Everyone she left behind.

Ethan Ramsey has always been a rational man. His rules and princlipes leading him through the life, the life that was predictable and safe.

That was until Chiara burst into his life without ever asking and burned his principles to the ground.

That was until Chiara left his life without ever asking.

All he wanted was to die. Ethan never believed in an afterlife and he didn’t believe that killing himself would reunite him with Chiara. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t need to be with Chiara – he just couldn’t handle being without her.

And so he drinks some more.

Suddenly, he sees it. The picture forever burned into his brain.

Diana Ray.

The eyes of a woman who lost her husband, her son and her daughter.

There is a glimpse of rationality after all. And with that part of his brain, Ethan realizes that no matter how much he hurts, Diana Ray hurts more.

He feels like he can’t breathe and he knows that that is how Chiara’s mother feels for every second every day.

He thinks of a mother that lost two of her children and with that, he thinks of his father.

Alan would lose his only child.

And Ethan sees it. Feels it. Knows it.

With his desperate desire to escape the misery surrounding his whole being, he would not only kill himself.

He would kill Alan Ramsey’s child.

The pain he feels would become the pain he caused.

It is the same exact moment the terrible, sobering realization hits him when the heavy crystal glass falls from his hand and shatters on a wooden floor. Ethan follows its trajectory almost identically and with a inhuman sob leaving his throat, his knees hit the floor - and the broken glass.

He can see blood.

The glass is quickly stained by the maroon red and with combination of an artifical light in the kitchen, the most omnious of shadows project on the wood.

There's a lot of blood and even in his state, Ethan knows that it is his own blood. He can see it, he can perceive that his skin has been cut by the sherds. But he doesn't feel it.

There is no physical pain to be felt.

It is as if the pain coming from his core - the pain that doesn't have any visible source - was at such unbearable rate that his body protected him by refusing to let him feel any more.

He could be shot right now and he wouldn't feel anything.

Ethan just wishes he could be shot right now.

He wishes he could vanish, he wishes he could erase the existence of Ethan Ramsey from the universe.

If only it was that easy.

And so with bloody hand, he reaches for his phone and dials his first emergency contact.

„Ethan?“ Alan’s concerned voice responds immediately.

„Dad,“ Ethan gets out of himself, though he is sure Alan hardly understands him thorugh the violent sobs leaving his mouth constantly. „Could you please come here?“

*** *** ***

so... one thing. The whole meningitis thing being so deadly is not something I made up. It is the very same thing that killed my best friend 7 years ago - he fell asleep with light flu (so everyone thought) and never woke up again.

If Ethan seems out of character here, I am sorry. However I believe that when one is grieving, there is nothing as out of character. People do really unexpected and weird things while grieving.

This was actually self-indulgent (even though I guess it’s weird to use it like this) - the stages of grief Ethan is going through (denial - weird rationality - breakdown - shutting himself off - not sleeping, eating, talking - unability to express his sorrow at the funeral - more breakdowns - the terrible, terrible moment he realizes she is really never coming back - wishing to die - finding the strength to stay alive...) are my exact stages of my own grief back then. And it was very difficult to write about those and also very healing.

#tw: death #angst #tw: trauma #tw: major character death #open heart #ethan ramsey

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awfeasges · 3 years

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marshmallowprotection · 4 years

Note

Hoping requests are open! Can you do a scenario with an MC, who, when healthy is a kind, loving person but when sick is easily annoyed, grumpy and pissed at the world, being comforted by RFA + minor trio? And their reactions to her sick-mode lol.

Yoosung

You’re normally an angel and the kindest person that he has ever been around in his entire life but the instant that you caught a cold, wow, you sort of started to scare him with how testy you could get. You snip at the smallest little thing and you do apologize for it because it’s not his fault or anything, you just don’t want him to think that it’s his fault when you're just angry at having gotten sick and how that limits what you can do.

“I’m sorry you feel so bad, Y/N. What can I do to make it better? I hate to see you this upset and... not being able to do a lot, just let me know and I’ll try my best for you.”

Jaehee

You’ve always been super supportive and the nicest person that Jaehee has ever known in her entire life. She honestly didn’t think that you had a bad or mean bone in your body but boy, howdy, was she surprised when you caught the seasonal allergies and wound up lying in bed. You huffed, puffed, and just were generally crass about everything. She might take it the wrong way if you hadn’t given her a warning beforehand that you could sound like you were having a tantrum when you had a fever.

“I am aware you are upset, Y/N. But, you are only going to hurt yourself if you keep talking like that. It’s going to be okay, though, so let’s try to focus on the positives. I made the soup.”

Zen

You’re a saint. You put up with nonsense from everyone in the RFA and you do that with a smile. You take criticism and anything rude with a strong face and seem to not have a mean bone. Well, he didn’t expect you to cop an attitude and tell him off one morning when you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. He gets that it isn’t fun to have caught a bug so he doesn’t judge. He does try his best to be sweet with you because you clearly need a lot of love and sympathy right now more than anything.

“Babe, you’re cute when you’re angry but I really hate seeing you cry like this. What can I do to make it better? You want something warm or a few more blankets? I got you covered.”

Jumin

You’ve got a level head and you stand to put up with a lot more than anything else and you don’t let any irritation show. He admired that about you because even he could have his weak moments. It did come as a surprise when you caught the flu and said some rather crass things about the day and how irritated you were with all the little things that normally didn’t bother you. He’s surprised to see you angry, but hey, he gets that some people get really upset when they don’t feel well. But, you shouldn’t take it out on others.

“I know you feel horrible, Y/N. Let’s see what I can do about getting you what you need so you can rest. No need to worry about getting up or making things harder for yourself.”

Seven

You’re naturally a sweetheart and you’re so patient and kind with everything from him to the next kind of irritations. He’s pretty sure you're a saint or an angel for that but when you get sick, man, he has to take a step back and go, “Oh, I did not know you could be angry.” He might take it wrong if you’re cross with him as it reminds him of his past but if you’ve apologized and reassured him, he won’t kick himself. He will feel awful because you feel so bad that it makes you act out like that.

“I know that I’m a real pain in the ass, Y/N, but did you really have to chuck a shoe at me? Granted, I probably deserved that. I should have knocked before I can in while you were resting. Anyways! Saeran and I made you something to eat and I came to cuddle!”

You’re the reason that he decided that he deserved better and that he needed to fight harder for himself. Your smile keeps him going and he is thankful that you are so sweet and patient. Well, the first time that you get sick, he’s happily ready to take care of you but you snip at him for something small and it makes him wince a bit. He figured you were just overwhelmed from the sunlight and loud noises, so he quietly fixed everything for you. He doesn’t take it personally but it does hit him in the wrong way.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, Y/N. Let’s see what I can do about that, but I understand if you want to be alone for a little while. But, I can stick around if you want.”

Saeran

Honestly, you’re a true angel to him and if it wasn’t for you being so levelheaded and calm with him, he isn’t sure where he would be in the world. He wanted to give you the world just you had given him the chance to have the world and its roads open to him. When you get sick, he’s happy to take care of you but if you say something rude, he has to take a step back and go: “Oh? Oh, my God. You can get angry. This is all it took?” It does pain him to see you angry and upset but he doesn’t kick himself for it, he knows it’s not his fault, not this time.

“...Heh. I can’t believe that’s what it took for you to get angry. I’m sorry you feel bad. What can I do? I’m used to other people taking care of me so I have an idea of what may help but I need to know what helps you.”

Vanderwood.

If you want to cop an attitude then you can take care of yourself. That is what Vanderwood would say if they were talking to Seven, but you’re not Seven and you have a good heart when you don’t feel like you’re going to choke on your own lungs coming out of your chest. You’re usually very sweet and grounding but when you’re upset like this, it’s... well, you can get as angry as you want and Vanderwood will just nod in agreement because hey, being sick does really fucking suck.

“It does suck. You’ve been whining for a half-hour, I should be impressed that you have kept it up this long. Now, are you going to eat what I brought or are you going to whine?”

#darkestangel1326 #ask #mod kait #mysticmessenger #mystic messenger #mysme #mary vanderwood 3rd #yoosung kim #kim yoosung #jaehee kang #kang jaehee #jumin han #han jumin #hyun ryu #ryu hyun #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #choi saeran #saeran choi

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softbeej · 5 years

Note

Ok it’s flu season sooo... Dewey/Beej taking care of a sick s/o?? I know this is a lot dif than ur normal stuff but I need some fluff rn uwu

- you’d woken up in the middle of the night

- you. did not feel good

- “beej?” you half whisper

- “hmm? its late, babes, you okay?”

- he sits up, full attention on you

- “no... i dont feel too good”

- “you dont? is there anything i can do to help?”

- his hair probably starts turning blue bc he feels bad for you

- he deff puts his hand on ur forehead even though he wont know what to if u did have a temperature

- “i’m cold... can i just... cuddle you?”

- he pulls you into him so fast, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing ur back. ur legs tangle themselves with his and u snuggle into his chest as u slept

- in the morning you woke up to find him not there!! :((

- but ur covered in blankets, and have bjs blanket draped over u

- as ur about to get up and go look for him, he walks in

- “hey!! are you feeling any better?” hes half whispering in case u have a head ache

- “mm. kinda. not great though”

- he sits cross legged on the bed, draping one of the many blankets over ur head and shoulders

- “i made you tea! i thought itd help you feel better!”

- probably cuddles with you all day in bed until u feel better

#beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice imagine #beetlejuice hc #beetlejuice headcanon #beetlejuice fluff #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice broadway

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

He makes me livid! I get so mad!!! I don't understand him at all. He makes me go UGH but in bad ways.

I went off on him first before I realised what his problem was... Like total accusations and misfit drama. All paranoid loca. I don't give a shit.

I draw conclusions and those were the most obvious.

But when you know someone... You have to remember their stupidity. One time he confessed... And I already had decided to break up with him... I was all I'm waiting till his dad dies then I'm done. He's a good friend when he tries but he doesn't make me,a priority. And so I hadn't told him. I just tired of him,upsetting me so I had to remove me.

So he said he wouldn't do anything for his pain,then, he would take 2x his Percocet with 5 shots of tequila then treat me like shit.

I really hadnt noticed. I was all "oh he's just in his mood where he's decided I'm not important to him"

And true enough when he told me his dad died I walked away from our relationship.

But honestly ... Years later... I missed him.. Because he treated me best. Because I say I walked

I mean I left, completely.

But despite his faults he's always treated me best. I mean person to person. He didn't give me what I wanted from,the relationship. But as a low key friend, he understood me the most

He understood i was scared to go to sleep and he would stay on the phone and help,me,sleep so I could. No one else can do that. My daughter, if she was sleeping with me. I could listen to her breathe and I could fall asleep that way. Because it would calm my r breathing if she was sleeping that calm sleep,breath

But he knew all what to say. And I never had to tell him or even tell him I was afraid to sleep or even admit it to myself.

I hope this helps some of y'all that are anti medicine as well.

I don't like hospitals or doctors (I like my personal doctors But aside from them) in general. I'm afraid of them. They make me hostile. I feel like theyre some dangerous S&M dungeon

Go and wait for hours to get bad news then they don't give you what you need because you're so fucking exhausted they don't understand. Or don't care or are the ones that like to kill patients.

So I like my doctors although I have to wait for hours to see them past my appointment time, they take extra time to see me and cover what I think I need. Their quality is worth the wait. I have 3. Primary, Pain and Urgent Care. And I use the computer urgent care where I leave an online message after finishing a long ass quizz through the insurance website.

And whatever pills they give me, I Google to make sure they were right. They always are. Im also interested in what else the pills cover. Like i take 2 different anti seizure pills for pain and one also for insulin sensitivity increase and metabolic increase. And i take an antidepressant that also covers fibromyalgia.

I have 13 prescriptions. Monthly. Some I have to take more than once per day. Plus i take vitamins.

Then I Google the pharmacy pills to make sure the pharmacy was right.

So.

I get it. Sometimes I don't want to take 13 prescriptions more than once per day or even at all.

But we need to know what we are taking and why.

And why it is important.

And we need to take our medicine. So we can survive

I think this information is especially important during this epidemic.

Now realize that antibiotics are not useful on viruses unless the virus causes a bacterial infection. Like.

A cold is a virus but in some people like myself and used to in my daughter, causes a severe sinus infection which requires antibiotics.

I know the point at which we need antibiotics and so i go to my urgent care lady because she understands and we just do a walk in. And i don't overwhelm my doctor who is taking time to give quality care and has long waiting patients.

But otherwise a virus does not respond to antibiotics. And anti-virus medications are quite rare.

Flu shot... But not a cold shot..

So we take over the counter medicine for our symptoms. Like coughing and runny nose

Sinus pressure in the eyes, nose, teeth. Jaw.

If you have a tooth ache you can take sinus medicine. Because the worst tooth pain is actually in your sinus cavity! That's a secret trick. Works every time.

So basically anytime you have facial pain that doesn't respond to Tylenol or ibuprofen or alieve, you can take sinus medicine. Also ear pain.

Google sinus cavities in the face and you'll see why.

Now an ear and sinus infection is a bacteria, usually but usually our bodies can fight it Well without an anti biotic. As long as it is treated with over the counter medicine. But sometimes, like with myself and my daughter, sometimes an antibiotic is needed..but that is after at least a week to 10 days of serious green overflow that doesn't respond to over the counter medicine.

Sometimes the bacteria is lab revealed by terrorists during the "flu and cold season" to create an income for pharmaceutical companies. For my daughter and i, they're usually too strong for our immune system.

Although since my ex husband left town, my daughter's immune system has significantly became stronger. While mine has not. So she needs less antibiotics, than I do.

Otherwise, my body can fight it on its own with a few doses of otc.

I had a tooth pulled a few years ago.. It created a pathway to my sinuses. I could rinse water in my mouth and it would come out my nose. I saw an ear, nose and throat specialist whom said i needed surgery immediately to repair my nose.

I said no thank you mother fucker

I had to have clearance from my cardiologist. So i took a stress test and failed. So i had to have an ultra sound. It wasn't good. But they said I could have the surgery since it was simple.

I said that's cool, but I don't want to.

I haven't done it. So I get sinus infection and pain quite often. My bone structure in my nose is center in my right nostril. Meaning it's really fucking bad

From being punched in the face a lot. The surgery sounds fucking horrible. And it's a cosmetic change.

I'm all nope. I'm a single mom. She don't take good care of me. I'll drown in the blood sliding down the back of my throat.

The tooth removal was so bad... It was horrible. There was blood every where for days... I can only imagine the nose surgery would be the same

I also hate the smell of blood. So I'm like no. It sounds like the most miserable thing.

If I had someone to take care of me and baby me like a little blood soaked lamb in need of care... That's s different story.. But I don't have anyone that would take care of me

After my tooth... I was throwing up the blood and my kid just stood there and stared,. Which I wanted to hide it from her I was sick... But I was in the kitchen and began violently puking in the trash can... Scared her to death

"Mom I'm scared"

"I am, too. This has never happened before"

So yeah fuck that nose. I got one crooked fucking nose. And it makes me sick.

She wants me to have surgery so I'll quit snoring.

Well.

Ear plugs are at the Dollar Tree, babe.

So y'all take your pills that you need

Some one cares about you

And they don't want to slap your face off. But you'll drive them to it. And a crooked nose isnt all its cracked up to Be. It pretty much sucks.

I can't even blow it Like a normal person....

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fanatic-scribe · 5 years

Text

Cherry Flavor

Fandoms: IT

Word Count: 2,222

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Reddie

Ao3: Here

Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak

Additional Tags: Sick Character, Sickfic, Some Cuddling

Summary:

Richie gets sick while on tour and it's up to Eddie to help him feel better.

Richie felt like his head was about to explode. This was definitely not his finest set, it didn’t help that the pressure in his head had grown past the level of comfortable halfway through. He was sick, really sick. The sinus headache has been brewing in his forehead all day and is finally acting its plan to kill the comedian. And it was doing a really good job at it.

Richie was doing his best to power through the set as best he could, the show must go on or some bullshit like that, but he just wanted it to be over as soon as possible. He was cold and achy, but the bright lights and clothes he wore made him feel sweaty and gross. Already having abandoned the idea of standing Richie had decided to sit in the uncomfortable wooden stool normally used for drinks. His normal classic glass of bourbon replaced with a bottle of water. If anyone in the audience could actually see him they would notice how pale and dead he looked. Well, more than usual anyway.

Thankfully, his throat was fine, leaving the impression that he was just a gross, sweaty, lazy man who couldn’t stop shaking.

Fucking great.

Regardless, he finished his set hearing laughs and thunderous applause. Glad he switched to writing his own material. Even happier to finally be leaving the god damn stage and get to a fucking bed. He moved quickly past his agent trying to congratulate him on a good show, he knew the man was going to try and get him to spend time with fans after the show. Something about publicity or some shit like that. At this point it didn’t matter to him, he needed to lay down and pass out.

Now.

-----------

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Eds. love you too.” Richie pressed his pointer and thumb against his temple trying to relieve the pressure. Eddie had meet Richie outside the hotel as he pulled up in his cab. With this show being close to where they lived Eddie had decided to spend his last few sets on the road with him. Eddie had not gone to this show because he had already seen his boyfriend’s set and he also wasn’t that big on being lost in a crowd again or the tag along backstage. That had been really awkward.

Eddie had known the moment Richie woke up that morning he was very sick, he had been sick all week but this morning was worse. Eddie suggested he should cancel the show for tonight. Richie refused, saying that his manager would never stop bitching if he let a stunt like that happen. Also, Richie was “no weak bitch” and could “handle anything Kaspbrak” so he didn’t need to cancel.

He wished he canceled.

Eddie smiled slightly, happy to see that Richie still had a bit of bite to him. Slowly he grabbed the other man's waist before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “Let’s get you feeling better.”

It was a long grueling walk back to their hotel room, somehow knowing that rest was so much closer made Richie feel even more weighed down by sickness. Once they got to the hotel room though Richie immediately fell face first onto the bed, still fully clothed and wearing shoes. Even though the harsh cold of an unused bed stung at his joints the bed was almost sinfully soft. It could have been the exhaustion but Richie could have sworn it was like laying down on a cloud.

Richie was almost ready to fall asleep right there and then before he felt a light tug at his boot.

“Being sick doesn’t mean you can get dirt crumbs on the bed,” Eddie grumbled as he sat at the foot of the bed unlacing Richie’s boots. One by one he tugged them off and got up to set them neatly by the door before opening Richie’s bag to look for more comfortable clothes. “You need to learn how to fold your luggage,” Eddie muttered more to himself than anything as he pulled out wads of unfolded clothes, each one more covered in wrinkles than the last. Richie smiled to himself as he watched Eddie wonder in slight horror how many of his clothes were actually washed.

Finally finding a pair of pajama pants, Eddie made his way back to the bed and ran a soothing hand other Richie’s back. “Babe, you should put on different pants,” Richie whined in response, knowing that meant he would have to move. “Don’t whine at me, you big baby.” Eddie couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice. “You’ll feel better if you're comfortable.”

Logically, Richie knew that was true, but the sick brain was very insistent that changing clothes was the worst thing he could possibly do right now. As much as Richie would have loved to listen to the sick brain Eddie was on the side of logic, gently flipping Richie onto his back and holding up the pants with a raised eyebrow.

“Help me?” Richie said with a pout. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he set down the change of pants, “but only because you're sick. Don’t expect me to undress you when you’re too goddamn lazy to do it yourself.” Eddie reached forward and unfastened Richie's belt and buttons on his pants. Slowly, Eddie pulled off his jeans, his warm hands a stark difference to the chilly room that stung Richie’s sore muscles and joints. Richie managed to lift his hips to help but was just too tired to help as Eddie pulled the soft pajamas over his legs.

Eddie placed a gentle kiss on Richie’s forehead, “Gee Dr. K,” Richie said in his British accent, it got better with age but it was still terrible, “do all patients get this treatment or am I just incredibly lucky?”

“Alright if you can joke like that then your not too sick to finish changing.”

“Uhhhh, fine,” Richie whined as he sat up in the bed to unbutton his shirt and then pulled the undershirt over his head, he silently cursed himself for wearing two shirts. Immediately after his shirt was off his head Richie fell back onto the bed shifting so his head rested on the plush pillow. Richie felt the blanket and sheets being pulled over his body and tucked around him, as Richie lifted his head to see what was happening he realized he recognized the sheets around him.

“Eddie,” Eddie hummed a response as he riffled through his blue toiletries bag, “are these our sheets?” Eddie looked up from his bag with a deadpan expression.

“Yeah, I changed the sheets before you got here.” He pulled a few bottles out of his bag, “You never know how long ago these were washed, or if there are bed bugs or-”

“Alright alright, I get it. Germs and shit.” Richie lifted a hand to rub at his forehead and temples, “God I feel fucking horrible.”

“Don’t worry,” Eddie moved his hair and kissed Richie’s forehead, “I’ll make you feel better.”

Nobody would have expected Eddie to be this comfortable around a sick person. With his terrible health anxiety, other’s had know Eddie to almost quarantine himself at the first sign of flu season. Yet here he was taking care of a very sick Richie Tozier.

This was partly because recently Eddie had been getting help dealing with his anxieties. Really all the losers had. In a way they were each other's rock, they all had issues they needed to figure out and they would always be there for each other.

Also, Eddie was always the type of person to do anything for the people he loved. Even being exposed to terrible sickness.

The next few minutes consisted of a struggle to get Richie to take liquid medicine. Eddie insisted it was better and acted faster than the pill form, and Richie called bullshit because liquid medicine tasted like rotten ass. Even with Eddie insisting that the cherry flavored one wasn't as bad Richie still called bullshit on the grounds that cherry-flavored anything tasted like rotten ass. He also brought up the argument that he wasn't a child anymore and that flavored trick won't work on him.

Many insults were thrust back and forth, someone was called a “pussy bitch,” “slimy bitch goblin,” and “crotch hound” among other things before Richie finally relented. Sitting up in bed with his back against the bedpost to down three different viscous liquids, with a sour face after each gulp and gag. “Don’t be such a baby,” Eddie scoffed with an eye roll as he handed Richie a glass of water.

“Fuck you, Spaghetti man.” Richie downed the glass before setting the glass down on the nightstand. Eddie quickly grabbed it to take it to the bathroom sink to wash.

“You’re still gonna be a dick after I saved your life?” Eddie smirked before walking off with the glass to refill it. Richie chuckled to himself as he settled back into the bed, still with the sickly sour-sweet cherry taste in his throat.

When Eddie set the newly filled glass of water on the nightstand before telling Richie he was going to get ready for bed. He handed Richie the remote and channel list before grabbing his other toiletry bag and headed to the bathroom. As Richie turned on the TV and flipped through the channels, pay no mind to the channel list, he could hear the sound of the shower being turned on. He knew Eddie would be there for some time, even with his health anxiety getting better he still had those fears and being around a sick person probably didn’t help. Richie settling on a channel playing reruns of Forensic Files and from the looks of the guide it was a marathon, something he could definitely stay on until Eddie was finished. As he watched the actors move across the screen with commentary from the narrator and those involved in the crime he felt his eyelids grow heavy.

---------

Richie wasn’t aware that he had fallen asleep until a shifting in the bed stirred him. Richie moved to rub the sleep from his eyes to see he had fallen asleep with his glasses on. The TV was still playing the same show but an entirely different episode, as he stretched his arms out he could make out the sound of the narrator talking about DNA. He still felt sore, but he was definitely better than before. The room seemed darker except for the glow of the TV illuminating the small space.

“Did you seriously fall asleep watching your murder shows?” Richie turned his head to see Eddie settling into the bed next to him, Richie could feel the soft silk of his pajamas against his skin. There was something very comforting in that, Eddie choosing to wear his silk pajamas even while sleeping in a hotel room. Richie wondered which pair he had brought.

It wasn’t until Eddie was pulling the covers over himself that Richie thought about how this could make Eddie uncomfortable. Even though he had gone leaps and bounds with his health anxiety recovery it was still there, and there were still things he was iffy about. Being next to a sick person was one of them.

“Do you want me to move?” Richie asked.

“What?” Eddie looked at him like Richie had grown a second head, his face half in shadow from the dull glow from the tv.

“I'm, like, really sick and I don’t want to freak you out.”

“Richie that’s-”

“I can move to the couch if you want.”

“Richie-”

“Yeah, I’ll call the front desk and ask them for another set of blankets.” Richie was about to reach for the phone on the nightstand when he felt Eddie grab his wrist.

“Tozier, don’t be fucking stupid.” His voice more than a little stern the show had gone to commercial as an ad for some fast food chicken played in the background “Just come here.” Eddie leaned back against the pillows and pulled Richie closer to him.

Followed Eddie’s lead, Richie slowly laid his head on Eddie’s silk-clad chest, one of Eddie’s arms was under Richie as he rubbed up and down Richie’s back. Richie was very aware of how sweaty his skin was from his nap earlier but Eddie didn’t say anything about it. Eventually, Richie relaxed into his lover’s chest, soothed by the steady heartbeat and the feel of his hands running through his hair. Eddie placed a kiss at the top of Richie’s head, “Richie, I love you so much. I don’t care if you are sick, I want to be there for you no matter what.”

“I love you too Eds.” Richie smiled to himself, “I promise to take care of you when I make you violently sick.”

“Shut up, Trashmouth.” Richie could feel the slight bump in his chest from a silent chuckle.

After a few minutes of holding each other Richie could feel his eyes closing again, soothed by the rhythmic sounds of Eddie’s heart against his ear. “Hey, uh, Richie?”

“Hmmm?” Richie hummed in response.

“Can we please change the channel?” Eddie held Richie close as he reached for the remote, “Your murder show is really starting to creep me out.”

#reddie #reddie fanfic #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #eddie/richie #it chapter 2

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seeyacowboy · 5 years

Text

Blood of a todoroki part 7.

Dabi x reader - Dabi is touya theory. A.u. O.c. Aged up.

It took about a week to muster up the strength to get out of bed. Since the league wasn’t doing much of anything you and dabi decided to just watch lots of movie and eat as much Thai food for dinner as you could. One night while you two were watching Constantine and mostly talking through it you decided it would be a good idea to throw an idea out there.

“Hey babe, I think we should find an old studio we can train. Probably in a different city in a small town or an empty construction site.” Mumbling through your popcorn chewing and side watching of the movie. “That’s not a bad idea. Let me look into it and ask around.”

“Okay” you smiled.

“You know, you remind me a lot of Constantine.”

Dabi laughs and shakes his head. “What makes you say that?”

“Not only with your attitude, but I feel like you think you’re damned. Almost as if joining the league is making you a suicide and subconsciously are trying to caught a ticket to that train. Ya feel lame?”

“Hmm. That sounds absolutely ridiculous.” He smiles down at you and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m an atheist anyways” both of you burst out laughing after trying to maintain a serious face.

Two days later dabi was taking you to an old textile factory at the lower end of Japan.

“Dabi, this place is so creep how did you find it?” You said looking around at the ominous fog surrounding the building.

“Oh don’t you worry about it, love.”

Typical dabi response. You just shook your head and kept following behind. He opened the large double doors to reveal huge machines with long tight strings hung from them. It was quite damp and cold but it worked. Hanging your jackets on the machines you decided to go to a room that had sand bags hanging from it. Clearly dabi came in and set this place up.

“Okay, kid.” Dabi looked at you. “We’re gonna work on your water quirk and some combat. You ready?”

You hesitate for a moment thinking if you actually were ready. Dabi put his hand on your shoulder and lightly squeezed “hey look at me.” You brought your eyes up to his. “You got this, kid.”

“You’re right. I got this.”

“Cool. Now turn around and face the wall we’re gonna work on sensory combat. You should be able to sense what’s coming towards you even with your back turned and eyes closed.”

You do as he says. All you can hear is the sound of his combat boots hitting the floor. Deep breath in for 7 seconds, out for 5. Deep breath in for 7 seconds, out for 5 repeating this until you are completely calm. Something was thrown into the air and headed your way. Just as it was going past your ear you raised 2 fingers and caught it by the handle. Turning your body around on your heals and throwing it back his way only to hear a slight hiss of sand hitting the floor. Opening your eyes to see the hanging bag target stabbed with the small knife.

“I said close your eyes, my love. If you wait to see if you hit every target then you leave yourself open to become a target.” You nod and close your eyes again.

Leaving forward pressing your finger tips to the wooden door to gather some moister; you weren’t very good with your water quirk at all because you mostly relied on combat. Since wood soaks up a lot of water you know it’d be a helping hand. Feeling heat to your hip you use your other hand to stop a flying fire knife with a small bubble of water. Using the momentum you made the water turn into pellets causing it to go into every sand bag in the room releasing their sand. Unfortunately you didn’t have control of the knife and it went right into the ceiling. “Well that’s a start.” Dabi said amused.

Xxx

Some weeks later the training has kept up and you have been able to master more of your different quirks. Water, sound amplifing, shape-shifting, cloning; all we’re becoming very familiar to you.

This night was different though, dabi enters through the door of the bar and you follow close behind, everyone is waiting around, immediately their eyes fall on you guys. Shiguraki approaches you angry and your face twists into one of confusion. He’s finger gets in your face as he hisses “why didn’t you tell me your father was endeavor?” He’s almost screaming. Pausing for a moment before letting out a hysterical laugh. Tears start to fall out of your eyes as if its the funniest joke you’ve ever heard. This angrier him as he wraps four out of five of his fingers around your wrist. “Answer me!” He screams at the top of his lungs with a voice so deep you could have mistaken it for someone else. With your free hand you wipe your tears and calm your laughter. “First of all, Shig, you should have done your research before recruiting me. Secondly you would know that endeavor is in no way my father. My father was counterpart and my mother was tracer. Endeavor took in my twin sister and I after they died. To fall endeavor anything close to fatherly would be a shame. All you had to do was ask.” Your eyes are boring into his he throws your hand back at you. “If I had known you were so close to that scum hero I would have never let you in here. How do we know you’re not working for him?” He sat comfortable on a bar stool now.

“Oh fuck you, dude! If I wanted to be a fucking hero than I’d be out there in a crazy ass costume kicking ass right beside him, but I’m not. I’m here with your childish ass training so fucking hard to get one for all and stain out of jail.”

“She does have a point ,Shig.” Spinner said from the couch.

“Y/n has put herself through a lot and didn’t even work with overhaul when he confronted her. How do we know hawks isn’t double crossing us?” Dabi spoke from beside you still.

All shiguraki did was listen before getting up from his seat and walking out of the room. You made sure he left before mummering “fucking little bitch.”

From down the hall you heard a “I heard that!”

You stomped over to the threshold of the hallway and yelled “Good you were suppose to little whiny bitch!”

“Come on babe, lets get some fresh air.” Dabi reached his hand out for you and as you walked over to him it was like everything was in slow motion. You knew the room was divided now.

Somewhere down town on top of a building you both stared at the ocean. “Hey, kid” Dabi said out of nowhere.

“What’s up, babe?”

“What’s American like?” He looked at you through half lidded eyes.

“Well from what I can remember its very different from here. I lived in a small town in New England which is on the east coast. There wasn’t much to do but it was a cool place to be raised. I’ve never cared to much for the city but I don’t mind it so much at headquarters cause it’s now loud. I think the thing I miss most is the oak leaves and the fake season.”

“What the fuck is a fake season?” he lifted a brow.

“A fake season is when it’s winter but it’s really nice out like it’s spring time and then it’ll snow the next week. New England is a tease.”

Dabi smirked “oh so that’s were you get it from, I see.”

“I’m so offended right now” you began to laugh.

Dabi pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist as you both look at the moon hanging slightly above the water, it was a crystal clear night where you could see every star and the moon was super close. Leaning your back into his chest and peppering little kisses to his neck.

“Dabi?”

“Yeah?” He Craned his neck to somewhat look at your face to read your expression.

“You know shouto,auryn, and endeavor are gonna get involved soon right? Once we get stain and all for one out of prison what happens next? What if it goes south?” Your mind always thought of these questions because something never felt right. Why have we been working with only half a plan?

Dabi could see the worry in your eyes. He nuzzled his cheek into yours and softly said “I know they are going to get involved soon. That’s why we have to take out endeavor. I don’t know what’s going to happen with stain and all for one but if anything happens then we split. That’s all we can do.”

“Dabi, auryn and shouto are getting married soon and she’s going to want endeavor to walk her down the aisle.. as sick as that sounds.”

“Endeavor as never been good to either of us so why should we give a -“ just as dabi was about to finish you both heard wings flapping in the air. Turning your heads to look back at the city seeing hawk flying your way and landing on the rooftop.

“Hello,love birds.” Hawks said as he approached the both of you with a smirk on his face like he caught your hands in a cookie jar. What a weird expression to make. Extending your dominant hand to shake his which he gladly takes. “I never got to properly introduce myself. I’m Exemplum.” You said nicely yet firm; you’re still very wary of him given he’s a hero playing both sides, making you a hypothetic. “Oh dear, (y/n), you don’t have to be so formal. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He leans down to kiss your hand and you shiftly pull it back. “I don’t think she wants the bird flu ,hawks.” Dabi answered for you chuckling. “Hmm.” Was his only response. Looking him over for a second your boyfriend looked the hero over,” what do you want? We know you didn’t just come over her to say hello.” Dabi was becoming hostile. You put yourself between the two to create some distance between them. “I just came to warn that endeavor knows about the software (y/n) broke into. It was his office you were in. He has an idea that it was the league and that your not working alone.” He looked from Dabi to you. You couldn’t help but worry. “Does he know it was me?”

“I don’t know yet. He’s having shouto, your sister and I on the case. He doesn’t have cameras in his office so I think he’s just going on a hunch right now. Does endeavor know where you are, (y/n)?”

“I haven’t talked to or seen him since I moved out. I’m just he would keep tabs on me but no one I know has seen me since the party.”

“Hmm.” Hawks crossed his arms over his chest. “You know just because you’re trying to stay clear of someone doesn’t mean they are trying to stay clear of you. I would watch your back.” He warned. You fray your brows and give him a smug face. “I’d give you the same advice, hawks. I would hate for you to go from hawks to chicken nugget. If that’s all you have to say then I’d like to go back to my lovely evening with my boyfriend. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight then.” He said sweetly; his wings began to flap and he flew away.

Looking over at Dabi with a face he’s never seen before...completely horrified. “Hey, hey look at me” his large rough hands are placed on either side of your face. Pools of soft yet sharp blue eyes staring into your (e/c) ones. “Everything’s going to be fine you understand. It doesn’t matter what happens it’s always going to be you and me like it always has been,kid.” You walk into his chest and wrap your arms around him staying silent as you mind goes back to when you both were young. Even as little kids touya always made you feel important; he always told you, you were his best friend and that one day he was going to marry you. Maybe at the time is was because you were the only person he tolerated but deep down you know it was because he loved you. When your now two person family moved into the todoroki household endeavor had auryn move into the spare bedroom while you had to sleep in the unfinished basement. It was also damp, cold and stuffy down there; you couldn’t argue though it was his house and your parents raised you with respect. Touya would seek in the base after everyone was asleep and give you extra blankets and socks especially in the winter time. Sometimes he would crawl into bed with you just to snuggle and use his quirk to warm you up. Endeavor would only let you out of the room to go to school and the bathroom otherwise he would bring your food down. Since he didn’t know how your quirk worked besides from watching your father who he didn’t necessarily didn’t care for. Everyone could tell he had a thing for your mother and that’s why he treats auryn so well, she was just like her.

Sitting over the edge of the building four legs winging just watching the waves from the distance of the roof top you tapped Dabi’s shoe with yours and he looked at you. Leaning your head on his shoulder and began to reminisce “do you remember the first time you kissed me?”

He chuckled to himself and took a cigarette out of his pocket, putting it up to his scarred lips and lighting it with his finger tip. “Yeah. I do.”

“We were snuggled in my twin size matters and you had given me a coat and wool socks..it was December wasn’t it? Around Christmas time?”

“After christmas.” He said shortly.

“That’s right! You were the only person that got me a gift. An insta Polaroid camera. That’s why we kissed! It was the first picture I took!”

“I’m glad you captured my first kiss on camera.” He kissed the top of your head. Stealing the cigarette out of his hands and taking a drag. “I was your first kiss?”

“Yeah,why are you so surprised?”

“Well cause I knew you had all kinds of friends at school so I figured It would have been one of them.”

“No,Baka” he said jokingly.

“Fine then who has your v-card then?”

“Why so you can hunt them down and kill them?”

“I’m glad you think I’m so talented, but no. I missed out on so much of your life I want to fill the gaps.”

Dabi exhaled harshly you couldn’t tell if it was from smoking the cigarette or because this is not his favorite topic of conversation.

“Her name was yuna . I would see her at the homeless shelter a lot, she would help me steal food and shit. She was 17 and I think she had a drug problem. After it happened I never saw her again.”

“Hmm that’s shitty of her to use you like that.”

“Doesn’t matter your turn to answer the stupid question.”

You swing your legs over the ledge thinking of how to start.

“It was my second year of u.a, shinsou had come to visit me at the coffee shop I played music at every time I was there. I let him take me on a date and we just hung out a lot. It just kind of happened but I decided we were better off as friends and that was good enough for him so we’ve been best friends to this day.”

“Ah I see..heartbreaker”

“What!? No way! He totally understood! And ive heard your track record you could say the same about yourself.”

“Yes, but we are not talking about me right now. Being a guy I know that if it were me I would have been crushed.”

You took his free hand in yours. “Maybe I was waiting for somebody.”

He was slightly shocked for a moment. Dabi had the same expressions all the time: either a devilish grin or a stone face.

“You’ve been waiting for me for 10 years?”

“No one has ever made me feel the way you do,touya. I would have waited my whole life.” When you were serious you used his real name. It made him turn into jelly for a second. “I don’t know if there’s a right time to say this but I love you ,(y/n). Not puppy love. Not our little kid love and most certainly not friend love. I love you and I always have.”

Rubbing your thumb along whatever large knuckles of his you could reach with your tiny one. “I know, touya. I’ve always known. I love you too that’s why we have to jump.”

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

You didn’t respond you simply just took his hand as hard as you could and pulled both of you off the ledge of the building. Dabi is screaming at the top of his lungs closing his eyes trying not to envision himself as a pancake when he feels a hard tug on his arm and a reverse affect on gravity. He finally lifted his eye lids to see you floating in air, but you were different. You had huge blue wings coming from your back. You let out a small giggle “where to next, my love?”

#dabi is a todoroki #reader x dabi #dabi bhna #dabi my hero academia #dabi mha #dabi x reader

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maxattack-powell · 5 years

Text

The Freshman 2-11b

The Freshman Book 2 - 11b Chapter 11b: A Hard Day’s Night

***Labeled as 2-11b in my masterlist - new chapters added to include more***

Masterlist - go here for other chapters and related original fics

Disclaimer: The following are fics (adaptations from actual game chapters AND original works) to Choices: The Freshman series. It is a fictional adaptation. I do not work for Pixelberry Studios, the game developer or own the rights to the characters Chris Powell, Nicole or any other IN GAME character. All of the ORIGINAL characters, storylines and events were developed, by me, for this adaptation of The Freshman story.

Comments: I enjoyed playing Choices: The Freshman… But it needed more. I’ve included certain things that aren’t really full fic size in order to add more substance to the story. I ALSO have quite a few full size fics throughout. I wanted to see MC and Chris through their college years, and more… with additional angst, fluff, sweetness, real life and overall detail - so here you go.

Word Count: 10,232

NSFW moments in some chapters - Mature Readers Only Please

Paring: MC x Chris

POV: ~MC~ or ~Chris~

~MC~

The tall freshman begins to stir, something telling her that it was time to get up. She uncurls from her standard sleeping position and blinks slowly a few times. She’s cold, which by the looks of her surroundings, she shouldn't be. MC was still in Chris’s room, which means he should be wrapped around her, like he typically is when they sleep in the same bed. Her brow furrows as she begins to sit up, thinking that he must have left without waking her to go to the gym.

The sudden movement behind her startles MC and she spins quickly at the hip, eyes wide as she finds the quarterback in question still in bed behind her. She frowns when she looks at him though, instantly feeling that something was off. Chris’s body language was unusual for his normal behaviors, laying fat with one arm bent and laying across his eyes. That wasn't the strange part though, or the fact that he was completely without covers seeing as he is a walking furnace. It’s the flushed tint to his cheeks, the light sheen of sweet across his now bare chest that was worrying her. Chris went to bed wearing a t-shirt and had been under the covers with her when they finally passed out the night before.

Something was wrong.

MC moves gently, shifting her legs around until she's kneeling on the bed next to her boyfriend. She shimmies closer, leaning forward enough to grasp his forearm and pull it down from his face. When she does he takes a deep breath and shifts, but it sounds a thick and his eyes don't open. They just slide back and forth under his lids as if he’s in a dream. It’s usually not hard to wake Christopher Powell, something MC has learned the hard way over the last few months.

This was not a good sign.

She lays the underside of her wrist on his forehead and waits. It doesn't feel abnormally hot, but his skin feels warmer and a little clammy. MC sits back on her heels and chews her lower lip as she assesses his behavior. He doesn't seem to have a fever, at least not a high one. His skin still looks normal, minus the mild sticky feeling at the touch.

“Maybe he just had a bad night’s sleep?” She mumbles to herself.

Her spoken words change everything, turning him to her like a beacon of light in the night for a lost ship. Chris’s eyes flutter open, searching the space around him slowly before his gaze falls on hers. “Hey baby.”

Her brow furrows and he seems to notice, his own expression beginning to mirror her look of concern. “What’s wrong beautiful?”

She continues to chew on her bottom lip, occasionally shifting to gnaw on the inside of her cheek as she lays her hand on his arm. “Do you feel okay Chris?”

He frowns deeper as he sits up, his eyes never leaving hers. “Ayuh… why?” He reaches to hold her hand, wrapping his warm one around hers as he clears his throat. “What is it?”

MC pulls her hand from his, reaching out to place one flat on his chest, the other on his forehead again. “I woke up cold and thought I was alone… when I turned to find you in bed, you…” Her nose scrunches up. “Well you looked like you might be sick, I swear you were kinda hot and even sweating.”

Chris gives her a small smile. “MC, I don’t get sick… not like colds or anything. I’m alright.”

She shakes her head. “I donno. I think something’s wrong.” Her eyebrow arches as she continues to speak. “I mean seriously, you skipped going to the gym...”

He chuckles while gently wrapping his hands around hers before bringing them to his lips. He kisses both sets of knuckles lightly before resting their joined hands in her lap. “Okay, I skipped the gym. After yesterday I wanted to be here when you woke up... and I didn’t feel like fighting you to go with me this morning.”

MC snorts. “Liar.”

He shrugs. “I really am okay. My throat is a little sore but I was running around like crazy yesterday, I probably just need a day off.”

Her eyes narrow and he laughs again. “Come on Doc… let’s go get some breakfast and head to class.”

The pair manages to get ready for the day with just enough time to stop by the campus cafe and grab a few items. MC gives him a curious look when he orders twice his normal coffee order and barely eats his breakfast croissant.

As they walk towards their first classes, Chris catches her eyeing him suspiciously as he takes a long drag from his cup. “What woman?”

His smile was wide, but not as bright as she’s used to seeing. “Feeling tired? Not super hungry?”

Chris shrugs and switches his cup to the other hand before using the now free one to pull her close. When he doesn't say anything, her eyes narrow and she studies him even harder than before.

~Chris~

Feeling the hole being burned into the side of his face, the tall freshman turns and immediately begins to laugh. “Oh my god, whaaaaat…”

She stops and crosses her arms, forcing him to stop with her so he doesn’t drag her forward. “You're not a big coffee guy… remember? And not eating all of your food? Who are you…”

Chris takes a deep breath and shakes his head. He wants her to let this go. He doesn't get sick, not like this. Sure he had the flu once as a kid, but it’s rare for him to get sick. He wasn't sick. He can’t be getting sick. He doesn't have the time for something like this right now.

When his gaze moves back to hers he shifts uncomfortably. “I told you MC, I’m fine.” When her frown deepens he sighs and pulls her into his chest. “Really.”

She burrows her nose into his chest and he swears he can feel the cold tip through his sweater. “Can we go to class now? If we’re late, the professor is going to kill us.”

MC begrudgingly agrees and they make double time, making it into the room just in time to see the professor walking in. The day continues like normal, the two meeting when possible between classes, getting a bite together for lunch and eventually heading to their last class for the day.

~MC~

MC waits for Chris in the hallway outside of his history class and searches on her phone. She’s noticed his behaviors changing more throughout the day. He had become more sluggish, barely eating half of his lunch, drinking from his water bottle more than usual, let out the occasional cough. Things like that.

Being someone who had seasonal change reactions, typical sore throats and mild coughs thanks to her sinuses, MC was no stranger to his current predicament. If he would just let her help, she could possibly cut his inevitable suffering time in half. Maybe even lower, but he had been so stubborn with her all day.

The door to his classroom opens and she looks up from her position against the wall, her gaze gliding across student after student until they finally land on his broad back. When Chris steps out into the hall and he looks absolutely drained. She watches as he takes a deep breath, reaching up to drag his hand through his hair.

Compared to the cute, controlled loose curls it had when they left the suite this morning, it was now fluffy and generally messy. She can tell he has been running his hand through it a lot throughout the day. Just another sign that something isn't right. Chris typically only plays with or pulls on his hair when he’s anxious, unsettled, angry or upset in some way.

“Or sick.” She says softly to herself, adding it to the list as she begins to approach him.

Chris meanders through the halls, angling his wide frame between other students and faculty as he goes. MC watches his movements as she gains on him, shaking her head briefly as he continues to prove her theory correct. She sighs and reaches out, sliding her hand through his arm and hooking on his elbow.

~Chris~

He spins at the contact, his eyes down on the hand around his arm before he turns his gaze to its owner. His eyes look up and MC gives him a soft smile, watching his concerned expression from someone touching him so intimately. The moment he sees its her everything changes, his face becoming soft and loving.

“Hey babe… I was going outside to look for you.” He gives her a sluggish smile, doing his best to hide the fact that he’s actually starting to feel a little rough after the long day.

“We got out early so I waited for you.” She kisses his jacketed shoulder as he pulls her closer. “Come on, let's go back to the suite.”

They walk for a while in silence, almost making it to the parking lot of their building before Chris decides to say something. “You don’t have to do this yanno.”

MC glances over at him, her expression overly innocent. “Walk with you to the suite?”

He hasn’t forgotten her words of concern from earlier in the day. They are still quite clear on her face even though she hasn't verbally brought it up again. He takes a deep breath, doing a quick assessment of how he feels, deciding that it could be worse, deciding it's just some sinus irritation that will go away by tomorrow. There was no way he was going to tell her she might be right. He just needs to go to bed earlier tonight. Just needs to get more rest. He will be good in the morning. He has to be. Sebastian wasn't going to rest, so he couldn't either.

Chris takes a deep breath and shakes his head as he tightens his grip around her shoulders. “No Miss Cherry. Play nurse. I told you I was fine. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“I didn't say anything.” She mumbles as she turns her focus forward.

“You didn't have to. I’ve seen the look on your face all day…” He leans over and kisses her temple. “I just need to chill out, take a break. I’ve been working too hard on this campaign stuff.”

“Uh huh.” She grumbles as they reach their building.

~MC~

They make their way inside and end up working on more homework for a while. Zack and Tyler are at the table too, working through their shared math class as Chris and MC work through various assignments.

After a while, Chris mentions needing another book and disappears into the dark hallway, heading for his room. When he’s gone for an unreasonable amount of time, MC stands and leaves the kitchen table to check on him.

The guys both look up and Zack frowns. “He’s getting worse isn't he…”

MC glances at him and nods with a frown. “Yes, and he's so damn stubborn about it.”

Tyler laughs and puffs his chest out, doing his best impression of his friend. “But Mainers don't get sick.”

Zack swats at him and he instantly deflates. “What… it's true. Cold and flu infection numbers are actually quite low in Maine compared to the rest of the United States.”

Their curly haired friend comically face palms as Tyler shrugs and throws his arms up in defense. “I mean...”

MC shakes her head and turns back to the hall, ignoring the two behind her as she approaches the quarterback's cracked door. She hears something further down the hall though and pauses, looking up to find Kaitlyn standing halfway out of her doorway, clearly frozen when she sees MC.

The tall blonde opens her mouth to say something, but she never gets the chance, seeing how quickly Kaitlyn turns back into her room and shuts her door with a little too much force. MC sighs loudly, not realizing as Abbie walks out of her room a second later, glancing at Kaitlyn’s door with an arched brow.

She turns to look at MC as she heads towards the living space and pats her on the shoulder. “Just give her time… I’m sure she will figure it all out.”

“Yeah.” MC says in a hushed breath as she glances briefly at the shut door before turning to face Abbie and jutting her thumb behind her. “You might want to get out there. Zack looked like he might choke Tyler soon.”

Abbie laughs softly and shakes her head. “Maybe I should go back to my room instead.”

They both chuckle before Abbie gives MC a warm smile and moves towards the shared suite space once more. When she turns and faces Chris’s door she hesitates before she knocks. A small smile appears when she hears a soft snore spill through from the other side though the crack. Pushing the door open just enough to peek inside, she finds Chris sprawled out on his bed, one leg hanging off while a book lays split open on his chest.

She pulls her bottom lip in as she takes a few more steps inside and bends over him. Her wrist finds the same spot on his forehead from earlier in the day and after only a few seconds she jerks it back. His skin was hot, and upon further assessment, she found his cheeks were more flushed than when he ran a two miles’ sprint. Chris had his fair share of rosy cheeks on occasion, but this was more than anything she had seen outside of some serious cardio.

“Shit.” She hisses out, quickly covering her mouth as she stands back up and watches for his response.

There was none, except for a unusually loud and thick sounding snore. He really was getting worse.

“Okay. That’s it Powell.” He doesn't budge and she leaves his room, pulling the door closed before cutting into her room and digging through her nightstand.

She finds what she's looking for fairly quickly, grabbing an over the counter cold medication combo that has helped her okay before. She leaves and goes back to the shared space, snatching his water bottle from the table before heading into the kitchen to refill it with cool water, knowing most people need something to help get the medication down and he needed to stay hydrated.

As she moves around the group at the table, Zack looks up and frowns when they lock eyes. “That bad?”

MC doesn't say a word, her lips pressed tightly together speaking volumes and Zack nods. “What can I do MC?”

She sighs as she fills up her boyfriend’s bottle, twisting the top on tightly and wiping off the excess drips with one of the dishtowels. “He really hasn't eaten much all day. I’m about to give him some of these to help what may be a mild fever. Hopefully it will make him feel better too, but he really needs to eat more.”

Zack stands, patting Tyler on the back and getting an affirming nod from Abbie. “We’ve got you. Just tell us what to get.”

MC looks up and sees them all stand, her heart swelling with love for her friends. “Really?” When they flash her concerned smiles she lets out a held breath. “You guys are the best. I was going to go out but--”

Tyler and Abbie head towards the door to grab their jackets as Zack pulls his off the back of his chair. Tyler gives her a warm smile once more. “You stay here, get him to take that stuff and drink a lot of water. Text us what you need us to pick up.”

Abbie fixes Tyler’s jacket hood before turning to MC. “That includes something for you to eat too you know.”

MC laughs at Abbie’s motherly tone as Zack gives her a quick hug as the trio heads out. She pulls out her phone and quickly sends them a group text with some of Chris’s favorite foods from different areas close by, telling them to get whatever was most convenient for them, doubling whatever they order to keep it simple.

She also asks if they can grab a few more medications from the pharmacy near campus since her stash is a little low. She brought what she had from home when she started this year, and hasn't needed to use them until now, but she knew it wouldn't hurt to get a few items.

MC wants options just in case she can’t slow it down quick enough and it tries to spread into his lungs or something. She knows chances are good Chris will fight her on taking the medications tonight, but she believes she has a better chance of getting him to take them herself, then she has getting him to see the nurse first thing in the morning.

She grumbles incoherently to herself as she snatches the water bottle from the counter and heads back to his room, checking her pocket for the little bubble packet as she closes his door once more. He hasn't moved. She can’t help but smile at him, thinking that he looks kinda adorable when he’s sick. Not that she enjoys that he’s in this crappy situation, but the way he's laying right now reminds her of a soft little boy. He looks so young, so innocent at this moment.

Approaching his bed, she moves the book from his chest and sits on the edge, resting her hand where the book just was as she speaks. “Chris.”

Nothing. No response as he continues to drag in ragged breaths.

“Christopher Powell.” She says with a little more force, this time getting a reaction out of the long legged quarterback.

~Chris~

“Wha… MC?” He turns his head towards her, his movements and words groggy as he places his hand on hers. “Oh, hell. I sat down to check something and I must have fallen asleep. Sorry babe.”

She shakes her head and gives him a reassuring smile. “Here… take these.”

Chris sits up and gives her a curious expression as he holds his hand out and two identical white pills fall into his palm. He looks up and finds her giving him a serious look. That’s when he knows it’s over. He can’t fight her on it now, especially when how he really feels starts to seep in.

He takes a deep breath and closes his hands around the medication, reaching for the offered water bottle with his free hand. Without a word he tosses them in and swallows with a few gulps of water.

MC shakes her head. “Drink more please. You’ll need it.”

“This will be more than enough to shake it… you'll see MC.” He gives her a small smile, feeling his sore throat pull from the gesture. He does his best to hide his grimace but she sees it and his shoulders fall slightly. “Not falling for it, huh?”

For the first time all day he sees a genuine smile crosses her lips. “Nope.”

He chuckles and then groans. “Ugh, I shouldn't have done that.”

MC stands and gestures towards his person. “Come on, strip.”

His left eyebrow arches sharply as he looks up at her. “Um, what?”

She laughs. “I mean get out of those jeans and stuff. Get comfortable. You’re not going anywhere.”

He opens his mouth to argue but the daring glare she sends his way makes him snap it shut instantly. Without a word he stands and removes his jeans and button up, replacing them with long sleep pants and a soft Hartfeld hoodie. The more he moves the more he realizes how cold he is, how heavy his head feels. ‘Shit.’

“Cold?” She asks quietly as he sits back down on the bed and nods. “I think you’re working up a fever, but that medication should help soon.” She pulls his covers back as she hears the front door open and close. “Here, get in. I’ll be right back.”

Chris takes another big drink of water and props his pillows up so he can lean back against the headboard. He looks over towards his nightstand and realizes that he didn't bring his phone or anything back with him. Almost as if she knew what he was thinking, MC re-enters his room with a stack of his books against her chest with one arm, the other clutching a few plastic bags.

“Don’t you dare.” She threatens, making him smile as he watches her lay the stack on his desk and pull out his phone from her back pocket before tossing it to him.

He easily catches it without looking, his eyes glued to the bags in her hands as she approaches his bed once more. MC silently begins to pull item after item out of the noisy plastic and sets them down on his nightstand. His nose has begun to become useless, the congestion now bad enough to hinder his smelling ability, but a few distinct ones still make it through.

“What did you do?” He smiles wide when she looks into his eyes, giving him one in return.

“Our friends offered to pick something up while I checked on you, and they kinda got one of everything instead I suggested… so you have to eat it now. At least half.” She gives him a ‘try me’ look and he laughs.

“Half?” His eyes widen as he looks at all the items on the flat surface next to him.

“Yes sir. Zack said he would come in here if he had to.” She tilts her head and points at him with a little attitude, the curl at the end of her lips giving her seriousness away. “Don’t make me feed you Chris.”

His smile grows even bigger. “What if that’s exactly what I want…”

She scoffs at him, the smirk only growing. “You would, wouldn’t you.” It wasn't a question and they both laugh.

He does as she asks, eating more than half of the items their suite-mates brought back. It was easy for him when he started assessing his options, quickly realizing that every single item was a favorite of his. He watched MC eat as he finished the beefy burrito in his hands, his chest tight from thinking how awesome it was that she knew him so well already.

After they finish eating, and MC threatens him to not leave the bed for anything other than going to the bathroom, she cleans up and leaves to change into something more comfortable too. Chris plays on his phone as he waits for her to return, scrolling through his social media accounts to check on his friends Ryan and Ethan.

MC slips back into his room and shuts the door softly before sitting on the edge of his bed, facing him as she shuffles through the handful of items they collected at the pharmacy. He inconspicuously takes a picture of her from his point of view as she tucks some of her hair behind her ear. He pulls up his Instagram and ads a short caption before tagging them both and posting it.

dontcallmerogers08: i dont think i mind being sick if i get all my favorite foods and a personal nurse.

It only took a few seconds before they were both making comments below.

ryan_thehawk22: are you serious? tell her i have a cough and need assistance.

clark25superman: @sw33tcherrypie don’t tell me he’s tricked you into thinking he’s sick? Cherryfield men don’t get sick.

Chris laughs when he sees their responses, making MC look up at him with the craziest look as her eyes narrow at him suspiciously. “What’s so funny…”

“Where’s your phone…” He tapers off as he looks around, finding it on his nightstand and handing it to her with the notifications blaring on the screen.

He watches her face as she opens the app and finds the post notifications. The smile that slides across her lips makes him feel better than anything the medication has done for him so far. She begins to type away on the screen and he waits for his phone to react, knowing it will light up in seconds. When it does, he pulls it up and grins with anticipation.

@sw33tcherrypie: He’s not faking boys. The Captain is down. Find Tony and Bruce. We need backup.

Chris looks up at her with a blank expression, finding her wearing a shit eating grin as she shrugs. “What… Bruce is a doctor. And Tony is resourceful.”

Chris sighs as his phone buzzes again, knowing what type of comments he might see next.

clark25superman: I was going to say something to that effect, but @sw33tcherrypie said it way better than I could have. Told you she was a keeper Rogers.

He looks up and finds her blushing, clearly avoiding his gaze, making him let out a huff of air through his grin. “I swear. I have the worst wingmen, ever.”

ryan_thehawk22: they could never make CAPTAIN ROGERS behave. avengers civil war taught us that. its all up to you @sw33tcherrypie dont let us down.

MC starts to laugh and he looks up once more. “You okay there, big guy?”

Chris snorts with mild irritation. “Wrong. Avenger.”

She busts out laughing then and he tries his best to hold his ugly expression before losing the battle and joining in, knowing damn well that she mixed them on purpose to get a reaction out of him. After a few seconds of vigorous laughter, he starts coughing a little, his chest crackling more than he expected it to, but he plays it off and takes a drink of water as he avoids her gaze.

~MC~

Her ears don't miss the sound and she frowns as she watches him. “Will you see the nurse in the morning… please? I’m worried it’s getting worse.”

Chris waves her off and leans back, sliding further under his covers. “It’s not that bad MC. Seriously. I just need sleep. Okay?”

The irritated tone in his response stings a little and she nods once before tilting her head down, focusing on the small boxes in her hands as she remains quiet. Chris starts to fidget as the air in the room becomes a little tense while MC shuffles through a few items. She stops and opens one to pull some more medication out before laying them on his nightstand. She stands and lifts his water bottle, finding it half empty. She decides to refill it and returns it to its spot next to his bed before turning to face him.

MC clears her throat and gives him a small smile as she stands next to the bed. “I left you a few more to help you through the night… if, um… if you need it.” Her eyes flick to the table and stay there, doing her best to not to let his words bother her more than they already have. “Wait until after midnight to take them though… so they are spaced out enough.”

She turns without another word and walks towards the door, pausing when Chris speaks behind her. “Hey… wait.”

MC doesn’t quite stop as she opens the door and spins, backing out slowly when their eyes meet. “I still have some homework to do, so… so I’m going to go to my room, that way… that way you can rest. I’ll be across the hall if you need anything.”

Chris raises his hand, halfway reaching towards her as he opens his mouth to respond, but she cuts him off quickly. “Goodnight Chris. Sleep well... okay?”

~Chris~

She doesn't wait for a response as the door closes between them. The freshman quarterback sighs, his hand dropping to his side on the dark comforter with a muffled thud.

“Smooth Powell.”

He contemplates getting up and knocking on her door, knowing he would be interrupting her studying, but he feels he should apologize for being so hard headed about everything all day. He knew he was irritated though. Not at MC, but the fact that he didn't have time for this right now.

Ethan was right, they never got sick at home. So why now - why when he has so much class and campaign work to do? He groans as he accepts that he might actually be getting sick sick and not having some seasonal reaction like he had hoped.

Clenching his jaw, Chris reaches for his bedding, ready to flip it open and rush across the hall to his girlfriend as he envisions groveling at her feet. However, before he can get a handful of comforter, his phone lights up and he hesitates. All movements stop except for his hand as it snatches the phone, his eyes finding a text notification from Ryan.

‘tell me youre going to get a sponge bath’

Chris rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he types a quick response. ‘stfu hawkins.’

‘did you at least ask?! im pretty sure MC would do anything for you. especially if youre sick. dont waste this opportunity Chris’

His jaw clenches as he types a response. ‘too late. already blew it.’

‘how?! five minutes ago you were basically posting heart eyes’

‘hi, my name is chris powell and i dont get sick.’

‘touché’

Chris begins to type another response when a text from Ethan pops up on his screen.

‘Steph and I only have a few things to do before next week and were thinking about visiting you guys for the weekend if it was cool with you two, but if you're sick…’

His eyes light up at the message, knowing MC would be happy to see them both so soon. Chris had a feeling he might need some help digging himself out of the hole he just put himself in too. He quickly comes up with a plan, already deciding that he would go to the campus clinic as soon as it opens in the morning. He wanted to reassure MC that he would be okay, before asking if she would like to see them. Knowing he wouldn't be up for a lot of activity during their visit, and she would definitely bring it up, he starts thinking of relaxing things they could do around campus with their friends.

‘im going to see the nurse first thing in the morning just to be safe. i’ll let you know by noon’

‘Wow. Your mom can’t even get you to see the doctor. I’m impressed.’

‘dont be. it’s not my idea.’

‘You don’t think I know that?’

‘ha. touché.’

Chris snorts humorously at the odd circular conversation between his two friends before looking at his door again with a sigh. He stands and walks over, opening it enough to peek across the hall and see that her door was shut and there was no light showing underneath. Deciding that she either was or would soon to be asleep, Chris decides not to disturb her and turns back to his room with fallen shoulders.

He crawls back into bed and makes sure he verifies where the medication is that MC left him before he turns off the light and sets his alarm. She will be gone for class before the clinic opens so he sets it with enough time to get ready in time to make it across campus and be first in line.

-------

Instead of sleeping peacefully through the night, Chris wakes up more than once with mild hot and cold chills. Turning on the nightstand light, he groggily fumbles around until his hands find the little bubble packet and he sighs with relief. It was 2 a.m. and he had been struggling to stay asleep for at least an hour now.

He shakes his head, making a mental note to thank MC when he sees her in the morning for her foresight. After swallowing the two white pills with a large gulp of water, Chris drinks down about half of his bottle and curls back up into bed.

“Would have been better to let her take care of you, moron.” He mumbles.

The medication kicks in and he finally finds some peace, sleeping solidly for the next few hours until his alarm goes off. When he reaches over to hit snooze, he rolls flat onto his back and groans.

Yep. He was feeling worse.

Getting dressed as quickly as a sluggishly sick man can, Chris finally opens his door and looks across the hall. MC’s door is pulled to, but not fully closed. He knows she’s not inside though, feeling as if something was missing from himself like every time she was gone. He pulls out his phone to check the time, verifying that she would be in class already before noticing a text.

‘Hope you're feeling better. I’ll bring back some noms.”

Chris can't help but smile. Even when he had been an unwavering ass the day before, she still wanted to help him. He grabs a few of his books just in case by some miracle he feels normal in the next hour and makes his way to the kitchen, stuffing them into his bag as he leaves the suite.

It hadn't been very cold this week, but Chris continues to get mild chills, his coughing increasing as he makes his way to the campus clinic. He shakes his head as he reaches for the door and enters the waiting area. To his disappointment, he wasn't the first student to enter the same door this morning.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he signs in and gets comfortable in one of the chairs, accepting things probably won't move as fast as he had hoped. He really wanted to get back to the suite before MC, to surprise her with a note or something from the nurse, to hopefully make her feel better after last night. He doesn't really know if the clinic gives out notes, but he’s going to ask for one anyway.

The nurse finally calls his name and holds the door as he enters the small exam room. She asks him many questions about his symptoms while taking his temperature and blood pressure. She continues asking him how long he’s felt this way, what he’s done to help, and other similar questions.

He laughs. “Me? Nothing… my girlfriend on the other hand…” He continues to tell her what MC has done, how she's cared for him and what she gave him in as much detail possible.

The nurse smiles. “Sounds like you're in good hands. Let me listen to your heart and lungs. I want to make sure she has nothing to worry about.”

Chris shakes his head but smiles as he takes deep breaths when instructed. She removes her stethoscope and writes down a few notes on his chart before turning to face him.

The look on her face makes Chris frown. “Not good?”

“Well, it’s not that bad. Yet. But from the sound of your lungs, it might try to settle in. How are your sinuses? Is there pressure and pain?”

Chris thinks for a moment and looks back at the nurse. “Some. But only since this morning…”

“Keep an eye on that. The swelling could get worse and you might have some serious headaches. You mentioned some decongestant and expectorant medications that she had?” Chris nods. “Those will help keep you clear, but continue to drink a lot of water. They will do their best to dry you up.”

He nods and smiles, thinking about MC and how she tried to tell him all of this last night. He was just too hell-bent to listen. “My home nurse has been all over it.”

She laughs and grabs his chart as they walk to the door. “Glad to hear it. If you continue to manage the symptoms you have, things shouldn't get too much worse, but come back immediately if they do.”

Chris starts to walk out of the door but suddenly stops, spinning to face her with wide eyes. “Oh, uh… can I get a note?”

She gives him a curious look. “For class?”

He laughs and feels his face warm slightly as he glances at the now full waiting area behind him. “Um, not exactly… for MC. So she knows I came in this morning.”

The nurse smiles wide and laughs, instantly reminding Chris of his Grandma Louise. He makes a mental note to call her soon. She’s always happy to hear what he’s been up to and how MC is doing. She also asks him, without fail, when she will get to meet his ‘lovely’ girlfriend. It makes him grin every time, even though she can't see it on the other side of the phone call.

He focuses back on the present when the nurse hands him a small slip of paper. He reads it quickly and thanks her, heading into the hall and pausing to check the time. MC’s first class was going to end in about fifteen minutes which gives him enough time to get to her building before it lets out.

He walks as briskly as he can, stretching his legs to the limit, but his energy is lower than usual and the cooler air makes him cough a few times. He doesn't slow down though, wanting to surprise his girlfriend with his clinic visit.

Finally making it to her building, he slips inside and finds a water fountain near her room, silently cursing himself for leaving his water bottle back at the suite. He groans a little and tries not to cough when a tickle in his throat teases him. The repetitive action was giving him a growing pressure headache. He hates headaches.

Chris checks the time again and before he can look up, the doors open in a flurry of activity down the long hallway. His eyes shift over and focus on the one closest to him, immediately searching for MC.

When the line of students slows and he doesn't find her in it, he frowns, mumbling to himself. “She never skips class…”

“Chris?” He startles at his name being called and spins in place, finding his beautiful target behind him.

He gives MC a small smile. “Hey baby.”

~MC~

She closes the distance between them, her brows furrowed as she studies his face. He looks about the same, except for the more frequent coughing, and that makes her frown. “What are you doing… I thought you were sleeping in.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small square of paper, unfolding it before he hands it over. Her brow stays drawn as she reads the note scrawled across official Hartfeld Clinic stationary. Twice to make sure she read it correctly.

MC ---

Please continue with your current course of action in

treating Mr. Powell. I believe his present state will begin

to improve as long as you maintain your existing care

plan for him. If anything changes, please don't hesitate

to send him into the clinic.

She looks up from the small paper in her hand and bites her lower lip as she tries not to laugh. “You asked for a note.”

“Ayuh. I wanted you to know that I appreciate what you did… or tried to do... last night.” He smiles but she notices it doesn't exactly reach his tired eyes.

“Oh, um… you’re welcome Chris, but I didn't really do anything.” She stumbles over the words, feeling her cheeks heat up a little as she looks around the hall to see if anyone is listening, folding the note up and putting it in her pocket.

“That’s not true. You knew something was wrong before I did… and even when I was being a hard headed ass--” She reaches up and covers his mouth, making him pull her hand away in time to laugh once before it turns into a small series of coughs before he collects himself.

“Even though I was being a complete mule...” He tilts his head as she arches a brow in approval of his edit. “You still tried to take care of me. So thank you… and I’m sorry.”

Her chest swells from his words, her entire body warm from the look in his eyes as he holds her gaze with his.

“S’okay…” She whispers as she cups his face with both of her hands, pulling his slightly taller form down so she could kiss his forehead. When he stands back up straight she snickers at his worried expression.

“You thought I was going to try and kiss you?” Her nose wrinkles. “No thanks. You have cooties Mister.”

He pulls her into his chest and squeezes her tight, chuckling softly as not to start coughing again. “I’ll remember that MC… My cooties are your cooties woman. In fact... “ He leans in close, whispering into her ear. “They are already inside of you… this very second.”

She pulls back and gasps before swatting his chest. “Chris!”

He laughs hard and ends up coughing worse than before, making MC frown deeply with regret. “Okay Captain, we’re going home.”

Chris catches his breath and clears his throat the best he can before standing straight once more. “Yes ma'am. Lead the way beautiful.”

~Chris~

As they head out into the quad he turns to her, the curiosity getting the best of him. He clears his throat and tries to squash the uneasy feeling when he silently asks himself if he really wants to know.

“Hey, MC?” He nods back towards the building as they continue to walk. “Why weren't you in class?”

She blinks a few times before realizing what he means. “Oh! I was, I just left a few minutes early to find Dr. Yates before his office hours were up.”

Chris makes a cute confused face, his features scrunching up almost comically as he tries to understand. “My history professor?”

She nods and he continues, still confused. “Why..?”

“I told him you were sick and asked to pick up any assignments or information in case you weren’t going to make it in for the next class.” She chews on her bottom lip, waiting for his reaction.

He stops, automatically tugging her to stop with him since he had his arm around her waist. “You did?”

MC studies his face and adjusts her bag strap across her chest. “I was actually on my way to meet with a few other of your professors when you stopped me in the hall.”

He just stands there, staring into her big hazel eyes for a moment as he thinks about what she said. MC’s eyes flick back and forth, searching his face for something as he processes her actions.

“What… is that bad?” She sighs and grimaces. “Does that make me the clingy helicopter girlfriend?”

His lips slowly curl at the ends. “No.”

She shifts to where she's standing in front of him and he wraps both arms around her waist, doing his best to calm his heart, now fluttering happily in his chest. “Then what’s wrong…”

“Nothing. I just… well, the only person that’s managed to take care of me like that is my Mah. And honestly, I fight her on it whenever she tries. I always tell her to worry about Kyle and AJ… that I’ll be fine.”

“Sounds familiar.” MC snorts with a smirk.

“Ayuh. But that’s just it… you bulldogged your way in, kinda like she did.” The text from Ethan pops into his head. “Possibly better than she did.” His eyes grow wide. “Hell. Don't ever tell her I said that...”

MC laughs and snuggles into his chest as he wraps his arms tighter around her. Chris smiles too and buries his nose into her hair, swallowing a cough as a cool breeze cuts through them. Nothing was going to stop him from enjoying this moment. He was starting to feel miserable, but this was also one of the best days of his life. After Nicole, Chris doubted ever experiencing feelings this strong for another person again. He honestly wasn't sure it was actually possible, until he ran into MC that first day. Everything started changing from that moment forward.

He stands up straight and shakes his head, starting to feel a little overwhelmed by his thoughts and needing a change of subject. “Hey uh, you said something about lunch?”

She leans back and arches an eyebrow. “Yeah, no. We're going home, and then I will go get some cold friendly food while you rest.”

Chris grumbles in agreement, not wanting to argue with his personal nurse any more than he has to. He knows she will win no matter what. He decided last night that she would. They make it back to the suite and he takes a hot shower to loosen his sinuses and relax his aching muscles as much as possible before drying his hair and changing into a warm set of clothes to climb into bed with. Nurse Cherry’s orders. He wasn't going to go against them.

~MC~

She moves quick, wanting to see if she can find a few more of his professors on her way to pick up lunch. It was a good sign he was hungry, and MC knows that when Chris is, he will find something to satisfy that hunger. The sooner she gets back, the better chance she has to keep him quiet inside the suite. After grabbing a few more assignments from a couple professors, MC heads towards a specific eatery on the edge of campus.

Cutting through the athletic buildings would be her shortest route from her current location near Williams Hall. With her collected information secure in her bag, MC starts to jog briskly through the winding paths. She cuts corners when she can, running under trees and zooming past buildings as she checks the time on her Fitbit. She thankfully hears a sound that is clearly too close, making her gaze pop up just in time to stop herself from running straight into a wide, Hartfeld University logoed chest.

“Oh..!” She gasps out as she raises her hands to avoid slamming her face into the black and red athletic jacket.

A pair of large hands steady her, holding her upper arms firmly as she adjusts and stands straight once more. Her eyes look up and grow wide as they see the slightly taller man, realizing who it is instantly. “Coach Cohen!”

He gives her a small smile and head nod. “In a hurry?”

Her face heats up as she takes a step back with embarrassment. His hands release her and he crosses them in front of his chest as she nods.

“Yes, actually… Chris is sick so I’m on my way to get him some of the spicy chicken soup from Lucky Bamboo.”

Coach Cohen’s lips turn down in a small frown. “Powell is sick?”

She nods again and looks past him once before turning her gaze to him again, not wanting to be rude but also feeling like she should get moving. “Yes, the nurse thinks it’s a cold but he started coughing more today so I’m trying to keep it from getting worse.”

He gives her a genuine smile. “Hmm... I actually have some remedies and tricks that work for me that I usually send to my players when they are under the weather. I can send to his email, but would you mind checking to see that he reads it for me? I know how the guys can get about things like this sometimes.”

MC smiles. “Yes, of course. That would be great.”

“Thank you. I know he’s been busy with the student council campaign but he’s still one of my players and I want to make sure he gets healthy as soon as possible. He’s been very busy from what I’ve heard from some of the others guys. I was a little concerned that he might overdo it.”

“You and me both Coach.” She sighs and her eyes flick to her Fitbit to check the time.

He notices and smiles. “Alright I will let you go. Thank you for letting me know… and for taking such good care of my quarterback. I’m going to need him.”

She laughs. “You’re welcome.”

He moves aside and gestures for her to continue on and holds up his hand to wave once before he turns and disappears around the corner of the nearby building. MC runs faster than before, trying to make up some time so she can get back to said quarterback as soon as possible.

~Chris~

MC makes it back in record time with a large container of the best spicy soup in Hartfeld along with a few of his favorite comfort foods. He learns that she also managed to track down a few of his other professors on her way out, gathering a handful of assignments so he doesn't fall too far behind if things do get worse over the weekend.

Working for Vasquez did provide a few perks for MC, a big one being developing relationships many of the faculty while running errands for him. Usually her work for Vasquez annoyed Chris, since he clearly took advantage of her situation on many occasions, but right now it was benefiting him and he had to begrudgingly appreciate it.

She brought some vitamins from her room along with a few other items, the most important one in his opinion being a diluted eucalyptus oil that he gladly let her rub into his chest when she told him what it was. It’s supposed to help with his congestion, but he just wants to enjoy the soothing feeling of her hand gliding across his aching muscles. In the middle of her aromatherapy massage, Chris remembers he wanted to ask her something.

“MC?” When she looks up from his chest he feels his heart skip. There’s something about them, he really enjoys looking into those eyes. “Ethan told me last night that he and Steph are probably free this weekend.” He mumbles as his eyes slip closed, thoroughly enjoying her touch.

When her movements stop, he opens his eyes and find her still looking at him but this time with a concerned expression. “But you’re sick… you need to rest.”

He gives her a reassuring smile and reaches up to lay his hands on hers, holding it firmly against his chest. “I will… he knows we can’t do anything crazy. It would be a good distraction… just FYI, if you try to make me stay in bed all weekend I promise you I will lose my mind.”

She laughs. “Okay, then tell them we’d love to hang out. Oh! Maybe we can go see the latest Justice League at the Hartfeld theater? My friend Sarah could get us a few tickets for free.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Chris smiles and pats the bed next to him, slipping his arm around her and pulling her close as he sends Ethan a confirmation text.

Another hour passes and he tries to hide it, but his cough gets worse. MC grabs a bottle of cough suppressant from the nightstand and turns to him.

“This will really help…” He nods but hears the pause. “...but it might also knock you out for a while.”

Chris lets out a sigh and looks at the time, seeing that Ethan and Steph won't leave Boston for another two or three hours at least. “How long?”

He smiles as she makes a cute face, scrunching her lips together and to the side as she twists the bottle in her hands as she thinks. “Maybe a few hours… at least it can for the average person. With you... “ Her eyes move up and down his wide frame, “...probably less.”

His eyes narrow as she gives him a snarky smirk. “What are you trying to say MC?” He reaches out, swallowing his own laugh as she rolls her eyes playfully. “Just give it to me.”

MC pours the required amount into the small cup that came with the medication and he grimaces as he swallows. “Ugh, gross.”

He begins to panic as the thick substance doesn't quite miss his tongue, reaching for his water as she intercepts the cup. “Water.”

She frowns and holds the cup closer to her chest and leans away from him. “Wait… you have to give it a second to coat your throat, or you'll just wash it all off.”

His mouth falls open as he shoots her an angry look. “You didn't say I couldn't drink water after that… that… I can't even think of the right words.” He makes a small gagging sound.

“You can… just after a minute or… two.” She gives him an apologetic smile.

“Minutes?!” He gasps. “Okay no. It’s totally been long enough MC.” He extends his long arm and makes a grabbing motion with his wide hand.

She shakes her head, trying to lean back as she attempts to hold onto the cup. “I’m going to regret this, aren't I?”

He leans forward and snatches the cup from her, chugging down the entire thing in only a few gulps, still grimacing as his eyes water from the foul taste of the medication.

“Nasty.”

She frowns. “I know… but it will help you feel better soon.”

He takes a deep breath and shoots her an apologetic look, knowing she’s right. “Sorry. Thanks for putting up with me.”

MC gets up and kisses the top of his head before leaving with the empty cup and small medication cup. When she returns she not only has refilled the cup, but also his water bottle, placing it all back down on his nightstand before she turns to leave.

“Whatcha doin’?”

She turns in the open doorway. “I was going to grab one of my books so I could hang out with you in here?”

Chris shoots her a small smile as he gets comfortable against the pillows. “Okay, I’ll allow it.”

With another laugh she leaves but returns in just a few short minutes. He looks up from his phone when the door opens, quickly noticing that one of her favorite books is tucked under her arm, but more importantly she is wearing his favorite long pajama pants and his red Henley. The same pajama pants that accentuate her long toned legs and the same red Henley he will always remember her wearing in their building’s laundry room that one night.

“I've been wondering where that thing went.”

She gives him a cheeky smile and shrugs. “Uh, you kinda gave it to me.”

His eyebrows raise in unison. “Oh, did I?”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and grins as she puts her book down on the nightstand and crawls onto the bed next to him. “Yup.”

He just shakes his head and smiles, scooting over to give her more room. Once she gets situated he slides further down the bed and wraps himself around her, laying his head in her lap as he starts playing music just loud enough for him to hear on his phone.

At least that’s what he thought. As Scary Love by The Neighbourhood starts playing on his phone, Chris rolls his head to look up and into her eyes. He sees her swallow as she listens to the lyrics and a small smile crosses his lips. He was starting to feel a little sleepy, but was sure the feeling would pass before too long.

He was wrong.

All it took was for MC to reach down with one hand, running her fingers through his hair while she held her book with the other and he completely forgot about his phone, about Ethan coming to visit, the campaign, everything as he drifted off to sleep.

~MC~

She knew he was out when his body weight melted into hers and his breaths became slightly erratic. It’s really the soft snores that seal the deal. MC swallows her laughter and instead smiles so hard her cheeks hurt as she bends over slightly to look at his peaceful face.

The blonde runs her hand through his hair a few more times, pushing it up and away from his eyes as she studies his features. His hair was starting to get a little long, falling towards his beautiful blues more and more with every day. She knew he would probably get it cut soon, so she wanted to enjoy this slightly shaggy look while she could.

He adjusts against her, his lips parting slightly as he continues to sleep in her lap. MC turns his music off and goes back to her book, reading chapter after chapter for the next hour or so before he stirs again. When he shifts in her lap she lifts her book and looks down, finding him looking up at her through small slits as a lopsided grin slowly crosses his lips.

“You’re pretty.”

She shakes her head and snort laughs. “Uh huh… and you look like you're floating.”

Chris lets out a sleepy laugh and makes a few sounds in what she thinks is an attempt to mimic a jet engine before making a ding and speaking in an authoritative voice. “We are experiencing a little turbulence. Please sit down and buckle your seat-belts.”

MC’s mouth falls open as she closes her eyes. “Oh no.”

“What.” He says and blinks a few times, trying his best to focus on her face.

“You really don’t take medications or anything much…” She was starting to realize that the cough syrup was affecting Chris more than she thought it would.

“Newp.” He says and laughs, making him cough once. “Cut that out.”

She puts her book down on the nightstand and tries not to laugh as he talks to himself, his words a little garbled. “Go back to sleep Rogers.”

MC nods. “That might be a good idea. Sleep it off.”

Chris nods exaggeratedly. “I agree baby… beautiful…” He grins wide suddenly. “My girl… my MC.”

Her entire body warms under his loving gaze. Chris’s eyes just about close as he peers through the small slits once more. He gives her a sleepy smile as he attempts to lift his hand to cup her face. She smiles back, her eyes crinkling at the corner as she helps him by holding his hand to her cheek.

“...love my girl…” He mumbles as his eyes finally close and his arm turns heavy in her hands.

MC blinks a few times and her mind flashes back to their trip to Boston, thinking about that one night when she thought he said something like ‘love you’ before falling asleep. Her eyes fall back to his peaceful face and she shakes her head, reminding herself that he currently wasn't exactly awake and clearly a little altered thanks to the medication. She also reminds herself that he didn't say ‘I love you’ exactly, and that he was probably just talking about how she was taking care of him.

“But what if he wasn't…” She whispers to herself in the quiet room. They have not been an official couple for very long, and they only met at the beginning of the school year. Could it even be possible? She starts to think about how she feels about him in turn, startling herself with the realization that it was, in fact, very possible. MC swallows as she compares how she’s felt over the many months, how things have changed and how clear her feelings are for Chris now.

She jumps when he starts singing, very roughly, with a wide grin out of nowhere. “It's been a haaaaaard day's night, and I been wooooooorking like a dog.”

Her eyes shoot down and she sees that his are still closed, making her wonder if he was awake or if it was some type of sleep...singing?

“It's been a haaaaard daaaaay's niiiight, I should be sleeeeeeeeping like a log. But when I get home to you I'll find the things that you do, will make me feel aaaaaaalright.”

She quickly covers her mouth so she won't interrupt or worse, wake him up. MC recognizes the song, it’s name being the first thing out of Chris’s mouth. Her dad loved The Beatles so she had grown up hearing just about every song they ever made on the weekends. Chris continues to mumble sing, his eyes opening slightly as he looks up into hers, letting her know he was in fact now awake. At least on some level. Coherent was another story.

“When I'm hooooome everything seems to be riiiiiight. When I'm hooooooooome feeling you holding me tiiiiiiiiight, tight!” She grins as he skips some of the lyrics, clearly not fully focused but doing his best in his medicated state.

He chuckles softly and closes his eyes. “My beautiful girl… working hard to take care of me.”

“Holding you tight?” She can’t help herself.

Chris grins hard, showing his perfect teeth as his eyes stay closed. “Ayuh.”

He shifts and nuzzles into her thighs, letting out a content sigh as he wraps his arm around her legs and pulls her as close as possible. Within seconds his breathing pattern changes and she can tell he’s once again asleep.

Not quite ready to dissect her thoughts about what she thinks she may have heard before his random song interruption, MC reaches over and grabs her book and flips to her bookmark. She needs to distract herself from the scary but simultaneously exciting thoughts that are trying to take over.

Now wasn't the time.

Chris is sick.

He’s been rambling.

He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

That’s clear. Right?

Part of her feels disappointed for a moment but she shakes it off. She knows he cares for her, that's obvious, and right now he needs her to care for him. MC continues to read her book, just about finishing it when she sees his phone screen light up next to her. Glancing over she sees that it’s a text from Ethan.

‘We’re about to leave. Everything still good?’

She smiles and picks it up, sliding the notification open to respond. ‘Chris is asleep right now but we will be mobile when you guys arrive.’

‘You sure MC?’

‘Very, you need to see this kinda behavior in person lol.’ She takes a quick picture of him passed out, laying across her like a giant six-year-old.

‘Haha. Okay that alone will be worth the drive. Take lots of pictures. They will come in handy at some point I’m sure. See you guys soon.’

Tag Lists

Perma Tag: @coldcollectornight08 @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject @writtenbycandy @syltti78 @gardeningourmet @kennaxval @llamasgrl @lenoxxx9 @weaving-in-words @meeraaverywalker @lizeboredom @elyannagray @mfackenthal @speedyoperarascalparty @littlegreenmoo @drakelover78 @lolablackwrites @regrettingnathan @innerpostmentality @chrispowelltrash @craftytacotrashdream @enmchoices @liam-rhys @choicesfannatalie @ihearyoucallmyname

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perksofhs · 5 years

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‘Baby you know I love you right?’

Hi lovelies! Here is my first request piece! I’m adding it to “The Words You Speak” series because I think it fits well!

He’d started feeling ill a few days before Christmas Eve, a sniffly nose, sore throat, hot and cold sweats and a fever leading to the conclusion that he had in fact come down with a rather bad flu. He was nuzzled under a mound of blankets that every couple of hours would be thrown off at the onset of a hot sweat even though he knew he’d be freezing in about 10 minutes and have to pull them all back up. He was surrounded by an ever growing number of used tissues and half empty cold and flu medicine packets. You’d been there the whole time insisting that you loved being the care taker for him like he’d done multiple times for you in the 10 months you’d been together. And it was true, plus he was cute when he was sick, he was super cuddly, wanting nothing but you to be next to him holding him close. You knew getting sick yourself was inevitable but you really couldn’t care less, he needed you and you relished in it.

“Baby you need to eat more than that, two spoonfuls isn’t enough” you said, trying to get him to have at least another few mouthfuls of the soup you had prepared but he refused like a stubborn child. “C’mon its pumpkin, your favourite, please baby have some more, I promise it will make you feel better” he huffed and cautiously pushed himself up into a sitting position “Hm fine i’ll have some more, but only because I love you”. “I love you too, plus you want to be better for Christmas Day, being sick on Christmas is the worst. Eat up buttercup! I’m going to duck to the shop and grab a few things to finish out the Christmas shopping before it gets crazy over the next few days. That better be gone when I get back” you said giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Ok, can you get me some more tissues and cough drops? My throat is still killing me” he said with a pout “Ok baby I’ll add them to the list, I’ll be back in an hour or so, don’t forget to drink water, and take another cold and flu, the last one will be starting to wear off soon an-” “I think I can handle it babe, just go!” Harry laughed, urging you to get out the door. “Fine! Fine! I’m going! Love you baby” you responded, grabbing your keys and twirling your scarf around your neck before opening the door and bracing the brisk December air.

You’d come home about 2 hours later, trudging inside struggling slightly with the 6 bags of last minute Christmas supplies and a few gifts. You walked down the hallway, dropping the bags on the kitchen island with thud. “Baby how are you feeling? Did you take your cold and flu?” you said, walking into the lounge only to be met with a very asleep Harry, cuddled deep into his blanket nest, messy curls stuck to his slightly sweaty forehead. You placed a soft kiss on his forehead before puling the blankets up slightly, doing your best to gently tuck him in. The room was a mess so you grabbed a spare plastic bag and started tidying the mess. Amongst the tissues, medicine and cough drop wrappers strewn across the coffee table was his leather bound journal, wide open with the a pen resting in the the middle of the two papers. As you reached across to grab the rubbish that surrounded it, you couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of what was freshly written in the journal. What you read made your heart sink, “I really do love her, please don’t let this be another failed relationship where the love is only from one side again. I don’t think I could handle another broken heart at Christmas. I need her to love me too”. It took you a moment to process those words. Why would he ever think that you weren’t truly in love with him? When he’d said ‘I love you’ you’d said it right back, tears in your eyes, no hesitation or questioning whether you loved him back because it was so obvious that you did. You knew his last couple of relationships didn’t end well but you had no idea that his heart had been broken once or maybe twice at what was meant to be the most magical time of the year.

The sound of Harry starting to stir awake snapped you out of your thoughts, quickly swiping the last few tissues into the bag, flipping the journal closed as if you’d read nothing. Although you couldn’t hide the sadness in your face, the fact that you were on the verge of tears was all too evident. “Mmm baby you’re back” Harry mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yep, got everything done, all ready for Christmas day now.” you tried to brush off what you’d just found out but your voice was every so slightly wavering. “Babe are you ok? you sound sad” He said, reaching out to grab your free hand, stopping you from trying to walk away. A tear slid down your cheek at his words, you frantically tried to wipe it away and brush it off “Yeah yeah I’m fine” you assured but he wasn’t that stupid. “No you’re not, what happened? Did something happen while you were out? Are you hurt?” he worried about you going out by yourself now that your relationship was known to the world. Your features softened, you debated with yourself on whether to mention what you’d just read, on one hand it’s a massive invasion of privacy and it was obviously not meant for your eyes to see but you also needed him to understand that you were committed, fully, to this relationship, to him. “Baby you know I love you right? No ifs ands or buts, I really truly love you” you said, finalising your decision, not answering the questions he’d posed. For a moment he looked completely confused, the sudden profession of your love for him taking him by surprise but then it clicked and his eyes flicked across to his journal.

His expression changed to one of guilt. “Did I do something that made you question it? Do I not show it enough? I don’t know what else I can do!” you said, kneeling down to his level, taking his hands into yours, him gripping them tighter than he ever had. “No baby its nothing you did, I’ve just had so many failed relationships that I can’t turn my brain off when it starts questioning things. You know it was around Christmas two years ago that my last proper relationship broke down?” He was nearly crying, his already red eyes welling up. You knew his last girlfriend was a piece of work but you never imagined she’d be that heartless, especially at Christmas. “Harry I had no idea” you said, placing your hands on his cheeks, lifting his tired sad eyes to meet your similarly watery ones “I can promise you though, right here right now, that that will never happen with me. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. Not only have you added to my life in the most positive way but you have changed me for the better. You helped me realise my worth. You are the most kind, most genuine, most loving partner I have ever have and ever intend on having because you are my end zone Harry. There is no doubt in my mind that you are my person and you shouldn’t have any doubt either. I love you H, and I will forever.” The tears were rolling down his cheeks, as they were yours, a watery smile on his lips. You pulled in him, placing your lips ever so gently on his, solidifying the words that you’d just said. His hands rose to your cheeks, wiping away your tears. “Thank you” is all he could manage to say. “Thank you for what?” you enquired, puzzled by his response. “Thank you for loving me, for loving me entirely. I love you so much” he said before pulling you up into the warmest hug. You smiled, finally content with him knowing that there was never a need to be insecure, you loved him and he loved you and that was that.

You pulled away from the hug, sniffing back the rest of the tears “Ok now that we’ve got that all sorted, have you taken your cold and flu? You’re feeling a little warm” he couldn’t help but chuckle at you getting straight back into carer mode. “I did take them and I ate all of my soup I promise, all I want right now is for you to stay here with me, I need a proper cuddle.” You laughed, happily obliging, plopping yourself down next to him, his arms wrapping themselves securely around your waist with yours around his neck “I love you baby” you said, pecking a kiss to his slightly sweaty neck “I love you too baby, so much” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes contently asking himself what he ever did to deserve any of this.

Ok lovelies I’m sorry this took me literally two weeks to get this done! Christmas and New Years was a bit of a whirlwind at my house! This yet another instalment of the ‘The Words You Speak’ series! If you want to read any more of my writings you can find them here! Also if there is anything you want me to write requests are open here! ope everyone had a lovely festive season and fun New Year! xxx

#harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles #perksofhs #harry os #harry styles au #harry styles os #harry styles oneshot #harry

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outoftowninac · 2 years

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THE AMAZING ADELE

1955

“The Amazing Adele” was a musical by Anita Loos (book) and Albert Selden (music and lyrics), based on a 1950 French comedy by Pierre Barrillet and Jean-Pierre Gredy "Le Don d'Adele."

Loos was the author of the highly successful “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.” This musical was nicknamed “Gentlemen Chase Redheads”.

Although the musical never tried out in Atlantic City, it is predominantly set in the seaside resort town. According to Loos: “It is the story of a Boardwalk Cinderella - with sex.” The location of the original French play was a suburb of Paris. While writing the script, Loos initially set the action in Brooklyn, before finally moving it to Atlantic City during the summer of 1935, twenty years before the show premiered.

The musical starred TAMMY GRIMES in the title role (in what would have been her Broadway debut), JOHNNY DESMOND, DAGMAR, ENID MARKEY and JOEY FAYE and featured PEGGY CASS, CRIS ALEXANDER, DON DE LEO, BABE HINES, HELEN DOWDY, ALLEN CONROY, MARA LYNN and STEVE WILAND.

Sets designed by OLIVER SMITH; Costumes designed by THOMAS BECHER; Dances and Musical Numbers staged by HERBERT ROSS; Musical Direction by SAUL SCHECHTMAN; Directed by JACK LANDAU; Produced by ALBERT SELDEN and MORTON GOTTLIEB.

Musical Numbers

Atlantic City Welcomes You

What Kind of Grandma Are You?

My Luck Has Changed

Saturday Night

The A.P.I.S. Parade

Now Is the Time

The Amazing Adele

Treat 'Em Rough

You Belong

Go and Get Yourself a Yo-Yo

Yo-Yo Dance

Tango, The

Under the Boardwalk Ballet

Count on Me

I Wonder

Go Away Devil

Never Again

Who Needs It

Finale

A production number was nicknamed "The Chase Supreme" by the cast It featured chorus girls and actors chasing one another up and down the aisles of the orchestra seats and balcony, leaping from the boxes onto the stage.

Originally, the producers wanted Leslie Caron for the lead and Roland Petit to choreograph. In July 1955, Tammy Grimes was announced as standby for the title role and Kay Thompson was likely to take the role of Lila. By August, Grimes had been cast in the lead role with no explanation for Caron's not being cast.

Gloria McGhee and Patty Andrews (of the singing sisters) were mentioned as cast members in August 1955. Joe E. Brown was announced to join the cast in November 1955. None of their names, however, are on the final cast list.

Auditions for singers and dancers for the ensemble were held in New York City in early September.

Those winning roles were: Alvin Beam, Grover Dale, William Guske, William Inglis, Kenneth LeRoy, Gene Meyers, Harry Lee Rogers, Beverly Barsanti, Gene Carrons, Marlyn Greer, Jeanne Jones, Janet Perry, Bobbi Styne, Charles Aschmann, Jerry Craig, Edward Grace, Joe Ross, Charles Rule, James Stevenson, Betty Abbott, Janet Conway, Doreen Davis. June Ericson, Peg Hadley, Michelle Reiner, Jeri Archer, Carlene Carroll, Ruth Gillis, Lee Perkins, and Connie Van Ess.

Of this ensemble, Grover Dale is probably the best known. This would have been his Broadway debut, but this happened the very next year as a dancer in “Li’ Abner”. He went on to become an understudy and replacement in the original “West Side Story” (1957 above) before becoming a choreographer and director in his own right.

One big name performer turned down a casting offer for the new musical...

...and another signed on, despite having to put her popular TV show on hold.

Rehearsals for “The Amazing Adele” began on November 19, 1955.

It didn’t help that November was cold and flu season.

Then this! Dagmar took “Break a Leg” to extremes!

(C)ouch! Even the furniture isn’t stable!

But at least she won’t be upstaged by other blondes!

A tryout in Philadelphia (prior to Broadway) was as close as the show would get to it’s main setting of Atlantic City.

The show went from Philly to Bean Town - still hoping the Great White Way was in its future.

While the show was still in rehearsals, gossip gal Hedda Hopper reported that breakout star Shirley MacLaine was whispered for the movie version of “The Amazing Adele.”

Originally, the production had hoped to open on Broadway in December 1955. But by October of that year, a booking jam in theatres led many productions to either cancel or take extended pre-Broadway tryouts.

The production was to open January 26, 1956 at the Winter Garden Theatre. However, contracts had not been signed and the Stratford Shakespeare Festival's production of Tamburlaine the Great went into the Winter Garden instead. On January 10, co-producer Albert Selden announced that the opening had been shifted to January 27 and that the Broadway Theatre was the likely venue.

Ultimately, poor reviews and lack of a theatre caused the production to shut down without opening on Broadway.

~ excerpt from “The Complete Book of 1950s Broadway Musicals” by Dan Dietz

In November 1955, New York newspapers ran an item saying that Peter B. Zeisler, who was the stage manager, was having a difficult time trying to find a yo-yo instructor. One of the production numbers required show girls to move to the footlights and create intricate patterns with the toys. Ziesler said, "Anyone can learn to use a yo-yo but it takes special instructions for the special tricks required." Zeisler eventually found Harold Frankel, a 17-year-old Brooklyn youth, to teach the show girls the patterns they needed. Frankel told the New York Times that the routines were: the creeper, trip to the moon, walk the dog, the sleep, around the world, shoot the gun, rock the cradle and Texas star.

The Philadelphia Review...

The first impression that one carries away from “The Amazing Adele" is it is probably the loudest musical comedy to open here in a long time perhaps the loudest since Anita Loos investigated another earlier bit o’ Americana in "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.” And it must be admitted that frequently there is excitement in the stomping and shouting which go on at the Shubert in Miss Loos' most recent backward look, this time at Atlantic City in the middle 1930s.

WIT IS SACRIFICED

On the other hand the disagreeable thought persists that wit has been sacrificed for exuberance, that even in the tolerant realm of musical comedy that the plot motivation is a bitt thin for all the fuss and that balladry suffers from undue amplification.

Swinging the pendulum back again, the show has some personalities, both new and familiar, who may be able to bring ultimate order out of the present chaos. It introduces a wide-eyed young lady with a washing-machine hairdo and a faint Scots burr named Tammy Grimes, who has the title role.

CLAIRVOYANT ORPHAN

She portrays an orphanage graduate with an amazing gift of clairvoyance, which fits perfectly into the scheme of that part of Boardwalk given over to palm readers, soothsayers and exhibitors or dead whales the latter role assumed by our hero. There is a catch to the Amazing Adele's gift, however. It has vanishing point strongly rooted biology and the exposition of idea is the fundamental base of plot provided by Miss Loos.

Handicap or not the story gives Grimes a chance for several striking dance scenes and some adventures, which in their robust passages are effective. The cast also offers Dagmar, of television's earlier discoveries, who overcomes a somewhat shaky start to present a sort of Mae Wes-tian kind of hostess of a typical honky-tonk night club in Atlantic City, or anywhere, of 1935, or time. She is particularly effective when she clowns through a parody.

STAGE-SHAKING DANCES

Speaking of dances, Herbert Ross has staged some stage-shaking ones and one of the solo step pers, Mara Lynn, completely stop the first act with a beaming-eyed, ingenuous rendition of a "Yo-yo" dance which will never be confused with a polka. The dependable Joey Faye is amusing as a gentle type of villain. Johnny Desmond plays hero in the "noble-heel" tradition of Sky Masterson of "Guys Dolls." Enid Markey wins as his horse-playing grandmother, and Peggy Cass plays a pre-Adele crystal-gazer who knows all secrets. The songs by Albert Selden lose by the amplification, but the ballads, "Now Is the Time," "You Belong" sounded good.

The old adage “Banned in Boston” was not an exaggeration.

The Boston Review:

by CYRUS DURGIN

"The Amazing Adele" which Albert Selden and Morton Gottlieb brought to the Shubert Theatre last night, is best described as a rowdy musical comedy. Based, and apparently distantly based, on the French comedy of 1950, "Le Don d'Adele," which was described as very funny, this is a show loud and fast, garish and commonplace, crude and tough. It will not appeal to that segment of the public with sensibility.

It may be that someone thought this Anita Loos - Albert Selden contrivance might be to the sporting days and circle of Atlantic City in the 1930's what "The Boy Friend" is to the 1920's. Whether or no, it isn't. But "The Amazing Adele" does have two big assets in Tammy Grimes and Johnny Desmond, gifted performers who, with better material and direction, may yet emerge top-liners.

Miss Grimes has the most unusual, off-beat charming personality in years, which is accentuated by her very mobile face and its thatch of ultra-blonde, gamin-cut hair. As the Adele of the title, a girl who can foretell the future, except in relation to herself, Miss Grimes is a shining jewel in this tawdry exhibition.

Mr. Desmond has a good personality and a robust singing voice, and the easeful magnetism of a born performer. Miss Loos book deals with what happens when the clairvoyant Adele gets mixed up with the casing-and-gambling set amid the honky-tonks of Atlantic City. She is up against the machinations of Horace Moran, the local crook and his trigger-men; of Mme. Zelda, one or the less-accomplished phony crystal-gazers; of The Professor, whose violin case sometimes contains a violin, and, when, it comes to the affections of Tony Gaskey, whom Adele loves, the animosity of Flo La Marr, a female hardly to be described in a family newspaper.

But, thank heaven, Love wins out by 11 p.m. There are numerous gimmicks to keep the volume loud and the pace febrile, such as Mara Lynn, the mostly undressed girl who twirls a yo-yo; numerous hackneyed dance routines; a so-called ballet on midnight swimming, very suggestive, and a terpsichorean interlude by "The Scanties of 1935 Cuties," whose costume necklines have plunged nearly as far as the law of gravity can summon them.

Yet, there is not one truly pretty girl in view. In the cast are people of eminence in various branches of the entertainment business: the blonde Dagmar, Joey Faye and Enid Markey, together with Peggy Cass, Don DeLeo and others.

With no place to perform, and less than stellar reviews and pre-sale, the show played its final performance in Boston. The loss to backers is estimated at between $250,000 to $328,000, most invested the show’s composer, Albert Selden. The show has never been revived.

#Tammy Grimes #Atlantic City #Anita Loos #Amazing Adele #Broadway #musical #musical comedy #Peggy Cass #Don DeLeo #Johnny Desmond #Joey Faye #Mara Lynn #Yo-Yo #Albert Selden

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godlyvan · 6 years

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11 | 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

summary | memories of past decembers leading up to christmas day.

warnings | swearing, and idk what else honestly.

a/n | had this in my docs all december. i was sooooo ready for this. i hope you guys truly enjoy this. it took me forever to finish. i hope you’ve had a wonderful christmas, to those who celebrate.

requested | yes and no; Could you please write a Christmas one??? Snowy London, Christmas shopping, going to Christmas-themed cafés, putting up the tree, drinking hot coco in front of the chimmey, family reunions, and, Holiday Happiness in general?? (maybe Van's gf is pregnant?? so it'd be a very happy festive Van singing Christmas carols to the baby bump and stuff!) + i don’t know if you’re still planning on doing christmas themed ones but i’d love a little fluff one of van at christmas, decorating the tree at home cozy fire all that etc!!!

Day One: Snowfall

Snow began to fall. It was slow at first, barely anything on the ground until it all began to fall faster. It wasn’t quite packable snow, but it was just as beautiful. The kids wanted to go out so bad, so Y/N bundled them all up and sent them out back, following close behind. Van was still sleeping. Tour ended a mere three days ago, his sleep schedule bent out of sorts. He was physically drained, playing shows almost every night had its toll on the body. But he heard laughter coming from outside, and he knew to join his family.

Amy had rolled out a few snowballs, attempting to start a snowball fight. None of them stayed together, mid-flight they broke apart, only little clumps landing on an opponent. Giggles - it seemed - could be heard from miles away, Van smiled, standing at the garage door. Their kids screamed in joy and ran over to their father. His youngest, Oliver, wrapped his arms around his father’s legs, Amy taking his torso (she was the taller of the two, Oliver only being two, he wasn’t going to be that tall). Y/N walked over to him, waiting for their kids to go back to the snow. “How’d you sleep, babe?”

“Really good. The bed got cold when you left, but other than that, I slept like a baby.” He pressed his lips to her temple, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his touch, sighing as she closed her eyes. Her head rested on his shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. They stood there for a few minutes before a snowball was attempted to be thrown at the two. “Oi! Olli, Daddy’s gonna get you!”

“No, Mommy save me!” Y/N chased after Van, who was pretending to chase their son. Amy joined in, whisking Oliver to a safe place in their yard, telling Mommy and Daddy that they couldn’t get after them. “Hah! Can’t get me now!”

“I love you, sugar.” He spoke, her eyes directly moving to watch his lips. They were so beautiful and pink, the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen. Aside from the rest of him, of course. Especially his mind. What an intricately beautiful mess. “Did you hear me?”

“Huh, yeah. I love you, too. You know how much I love those lips of yours, Ryan.”

“Indeed I do.”

Day Two: Christmas Caroling in the Studio

It became tradition. Every first day of being back in the studio at Christmas time, they’d sing cheesy Christmas songs until they passed out from drinking so much. That was until Y/N had announced that she’d become pregnant, Van’s hands falling onto her stomach right away. He knelt down, his forehead pressing up against her stomach. “Hello, Little One. I love you so much. You’re gonna be Daddy’s favorite.”

“Van, you can’t say that. We have Amy, you know.”

“I know, love, but I’ve gotta make this baby a Daddy’s baby. Can’t have ‘im falling in love with you.”

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy yet, how can you be so sure?” She asked, his smile contorting into a cocky smirk. Damn did she know that smirk all too well. He was usually right when it came into play. He didn’t say anything as he began to sing Christmas carols to the baby. His hands put themselves back on her hips, making her sway. He wrapped his arms around her after standing back up.

“Baby, it’s cold outsiiiide.” He smiled, kissing Y/N’s nose. Her cheeks were red, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. Her fingers curled over his ears, strands of hair brushing against her. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you, too, Van. Thanks for everything. Now, what song are we singing next?” She asked, planting a light kiss to his lips. The boys groaned behind them, begging them to stop. Bob didn’t do anything, he knew it took you two so long to realize the mutual feelings, so he let everything slip for a while.

“Can we stop with this Christmas shit? Amy’s passed out on the couch in the booth, can we just go home now?” Bondy asked, pointing over to the booth where Amy slept, her little hands tucked under her head. Van nodded, walking over to wake his daughter up, bringing him and his beautiful girls home. “See you later. Goodnight, Amy.”

“Night Uncle John.” She waved weakly, her head nestling in the crook of her father’s neck, his hand rubbing her back. “Can I sleep with you tonight, Daddy?”

“Yes you can. Mommy would love that, wouldn’t she, yeah?” Amy nodded, wrapping her arms around her father before falling asleep. “Must be all sung out.”

Day Three: Snow Angels

Nobody ever said snow angels were for kids. Well, maybe they did, but they never listened anyways. Sitting in class was hard enough for Van, but Y/N didn’t mind. She enjoyed learning, she just wasn’t one for classrooms. She could learn a lot more outside, not sitting in some desk being told what she can and cannot wear. Van definitely wanted to fix that, he hated seeing her trapped inside of a classroom without his jokes and sexual innuendos. ‘Meet me outside in 20. U won’t regret it!!’

She snuck out of class, telling the teacher she needed to see the nurse. Thankfully, the school nurse was terribly old, her hearing and vision all out of whack. She hurried to the front doors of the school, seeing Van hidden behind a tree, his smile beaming from across the way. She opened the door quietly, slipping outside to meet Van. She laughed, her hand falling into place with his. They dashed away, running to a nearby park until they were sure they were ‘safe’. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. “Van, it’s snowing! Let’s make snow angels!”

“It’s fucking freezing, no way.”

“Party pooper.” She called, finding a good place to settle in. Her legs and arms moved up and down, in and out. She giggled, snow falling onto her face. She stood up, trying not to wreck her new snow angel. It looked perfect to her, turning around to find Van smiling, cigarette hanging from his lips. She walked over to him, ripping it from his mouth. Before he could protest, she kissed him, making him stand up. His hands went to her waist, pulling her towards him. She turned them around before pushing him down on the ground.

“Oh, fuck you, Y/N.” He laughed, putting his head down on the ground. He held out his hand, “Help me up, Y/N/N, please. You owe me.”

“Fine,” she smiled, her hand grabbing Van’s. It was a trap, and she should’ve seen it coming. He pulled her on top of her, her hands instinctively going to his chest. “Smooth move, McCann.”

“Only the best for my little snow angel.” He smiled, pushing hair out of her face. Her eyes never left his. They were so blue, even more so than usual. She was completely in awe. She didn’t realize she was staring until he began to lean in, his eyes closing. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to kiss back.

Day Four: Cold and Flu Season Begins Again!

Everyone was sick. Well, everyone except Y/N. All of the boys were practically almost bedridden, snot dripping from each of their noses. Two were nauseous, three had a fever. Soup was made from scratch, Y/N’s chicken noodle recipe always made Van feel better. She’d made some for the other boys, but never got any responses back, besides Bob. He was truly a sweetheart. “Here’s soup, and a few crackers if you can stomach it. Don’t over stuff yourselves, just focus on getting better.”

“Baby, can you - achoo! - rub my back please?” Van asked, laying sideways on their bed. She smiled, nodding after setting his soup down next to the television. He laid on his stomach, using his hand to keep the wet washcloth on his forehead. Her fingertips worked wonders, trailing over every inch of his skin. His voice was slurred, his eyes beginning to droop, “Thank you, baby, that feels really nice.”

“Shhh, just close your eyes.” Van did as he was told, his eyes shutting, and his breathing slowing down, heartbeat was slow and sleepy. She smiled at his barely open mouth, light snores falling from his lips. “God, you are just the most beautiful man.”

She pulled out a photo book he’d given her for Christmas the year before, flipping through all the pictures and the spaces of where memories were soon to fill. She pulled out a note that he had written her when they were younger, explaining to her how much he truly loved her. Van didn’t give it to Y/N until they’d said ‘I love you’ to each other. He had already written it before they even started dating. That boy was so filled with love and happiness, it was inevitable for her to fall in love with him.

She looked over to him, brushing a fallen piece of hair out of his face. Her lips lightly kissed the arch of his eyebrow before leaving to go check on the other boys in the living and spare room. “You guys need anything from me before I take a nap with Van?”

“No, but thank you, Y/N.” Bob coughed, tissue stuck in his nostrils. Y/N felt bad for the boys, but knew it was inevitable.

“You’re welcome to anything in the cupboards and the fridge, please help yourselves. And don’t fight over the channel, I’m looking at you Larry.” Y/N said, pointing her finger towards Larry, who chuckled at her calling out.

Day Five: Decorating the Tree

It was quiet in the house all afternoon until the four of them came home. Their tree had been hauled all the way back on the top of the car, held down with jumper cables and lots of rope. The kids recited Spongebob’s Christmas episode, ‘Santa’s coming tonight, tonight, Santa’s coming tonight’ all the way home. It broke their heart to find out he only comes on the 24th when everyone’s asleep. “Daddy’s gonna go get the ornaments. Can we take off our shoes and coats and put them where they belong, please?”

“Yes, Mommy!” Coats were hung on the rack and shoes were on a towel by the door. They sat on the couch, Olli’s socks already laid out on the carpet, his feet dangling from the couch. Van brought in the clear box of ornaments, setting it down on the table, asking Y/N for help to bring the tree in. Of course, with Van’s self and Y/N’s sheer sarcasm, it took about twenty minutes to actually get the tree inside the door. That, and the kids decided it would be a good idea to get one of the biggest trees at the farm. Van can never say no to his children.

“You guys ready to put ornaments on or what?” Y/N asked, her kids’ ears perking up. They ran into the kitchen, watching Van open the lid to the box. Their smiles light up at the sight of all the ornaments in the box. The kids hung up their own, as Van and Y/N took the rest of the decorations. The lights and tinsel looked so nice against the evergreen tree that spiced up their living room.

“Thank you for today, babe.” Van spoke, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Van, I didn’t even do anything. You cut down the tree, you orchestrated the whole day, honey. I should be thanking you.”

“Thank me later when the kids are sleeping,” he whispered into her ear, earning a light slap on the arm and a wink from her before turning their attention back to the kids.

Day Six: Exchanging Gifts

It was their first Christmas. As friends. But more than friends, you know? Little glances stolen at inappropriate times, touches whenever they could. Friends don’t usually write love letters to each other, do they? They usually don’t have occasional kisses either. “I got you something.”

“Y/N, you didn't have to.” Van admitted sheepishly, his cheeks going red.

“I know, but I wanted to. You deserve to be appreciated sometimes, Ryan.”

“You know I don’t like being called Ryan.” He looked up at her, his fingers picking at the wrapping paper. Inside was a brand new, leather journal. Y/N had caught on during the school year that he spent his time during class writing something down on his homework sheets. “Y-You--”

“I noticed you writing all year. Well, half the year, I still can’t believe you actually dropped out. Do you like it?”

“Darlin’, I love it! Gonna write so many songs about you. I mean, your parties.” His cheeks blushed furiously, biting the inside of his lip to keep him from smiling. “I got you something too.”

He handed her a small box with a charm inside. It was a small alligator, knowing she wasn’t big on wearing them, but she collected anything having to do with them. “It’s the best gift ever, thank you, Ryan. I love you, and it, with all my heart.”

Day Seven: Secret Santa

Nothing was more nerve wracking to the group. Would everyone like their gifts? Of course Y/N wasn’t too worried about her gift, Bob would accept anything if it had some sort meaning to it. He was the epitome of kindness, really. Bob had gotten Benji, Benji got Larry, Larry was bestowed Bondy, Bondy drew Van’s name, and naturally, Van got Y/N.

It was a piece of cake. He could get her anything in the world and she’d love it. She was once given the world’s ugliest pair of socks, but she still wore them anyways because they kept her feet warm and they came from Benji. She even got a little Lego man from one of Van’s cousins. The smile that little one had was enough to convince Y/N she had to keep it. “Alright gang, let’s open these gifts.”

“Fuck yes, mate!” Van exclaimed as he ripped the wrapping paper to find three packs of cigs, a bottle of Scotch, and a walkman, as if he needed one. “Whoever got this for me, mate, you’re the fucking best.”

“I got a cute little sweater for my dog!” Benji smiled as he read the writing on it. ‘Dad’s good boy’ was what it read. Benji loved it, he almost cried. Bondy snickered as he had gotten a new hat to try out, Larry getting sick of seeing him in the same one all the time. Larry had gotten a new collar for his dog, who’d been needing one since she chewed hers to bits. “Y/N, you’ve gotta open yours!”

“Oh my God,” she held her hand over her mouth at the sight underneath the wrapping paper. It was a scrapbook of their recent tour, each date marked with a ticket stub and photos Bob had taken. Written in Van’s messy handwriting was a little note, which lead to a pocket in the scrapbook where a disk lay inside. “’To my sunshine - for always making me see the light in the dark, no matter how hard it is to see.’ Fuck, this is too sweet, I’m actually gonna cry.”

“Don’t cry, love, it’s meant to make ya happy, not sad,” Van spoke, his hand on her knee. She grabbed her hand in his, kissing the second knuckle on his. She wiped away her tears with the other one and kissed his cheek. “What was that for?”

“I know it was you, nobody else calls me sunshine.”

Day Eight: Last Minute Christmas Shopping

The stores weren’t as packed as they were during Black Friday shopping, for one. Two, it wasn’t the weekend before Christmas Eve (thankfully). Van pushed the shopping cart while Y/N grabbed everything and put it inside. Van offered to push her around, not wanting to tire her out too much. “Van, I’ll be fine, okay? I’ve been doing this for years, let me remind you.”

“I know, I just feel bad that we have to lie to the kids every year and pretend Santa comes.”

“That’s the - you know what, I agree. Next year will be a Santa-free Christmas. But I am not getting in that damn cart.” She smiled, putting in a toy firetruck Olli had been looking at for ages. He begged for it every time he saw it. It had gotten old enough to the point she’d make Van take him down a different aisle while she got other birthday presents for her nieces and nephews.

“Can we buy new curtains for our room, too? Amy fucking cut a hole in ours trying to make a dress for her Spider-Man action figure.” Y/N laughed, nodding as they rounded the corner, turning into a new aisle. They picked out a pair of navy blue ones, hoping that their children wouldn’t ruin these ones (even though they knew they would eventually). “Typical of her, I know. She’s the craziest kid.”

“Did you somehow forget our son, Oliver Adam McCann, who feeds the dogs little plastic toys so he can find them again in Lola’s shit?” Van cackled in the store, everyone’s head turning towards them as Van almost fell over.

“Is he really doing that?”

“You haven’t been watching him at all, have you? He’s been doing this for months! I yelled at him to stop, but our kids don’t listen very well.” Van wrapped his arms around her, kissing her lips, smiling as he did so. “Crazy kids, crazy parents.”

“They obviously don’t get that from me,” Van admitted, walking away fast before Y/N could slap his arm.

Day Nine: Hot Chocolate

Y/N sat in front of her window, watching the snow fall lightly from the sky. Her hands wrapped tightly around the mug of hot chocolate she held, her hands becoming warmer by the second. She missed Van. He was away on tour, but he wasn’t too terribly far. He was in Glasgow doing a few interviews and playing a few shows here and there. He wasn’t going to come home until ten days from now. Ten days was a long time.

The television played Law and Order: SVU on a constant loop, episode after episode. “You know, sweetheart, you really scare me when you watch those cop shows. You could kill me and no one would ever notice.”

“Van? What the fuck!” She didn’t care about the hot chocolate, she dropped the cup on the couch, running towards the door where Van stood with his suitcase next to him, a smile on his face. His arms wrapped around her waist as her legs wrapped around his. He was holding her again, and damn did it feel good. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, bug. Don’t like being gone more than I have to be.”

“I made hot chocolate, if you want some. I know you don’t like it, but you love me so you should drink some.” She laughed, Van putting her down on the ground. He wiped away her tears, pulling her in for another hug.

“I’d love some, but only after I get a kiss from my favorite girl,” Y/N smiled, standing on her tippy toes to kiss him. “Where’s Lola anyways? I’m kidding, babe! I wanna kiss you!”

“Maybe if you also fix me up a cup of hot coco while I clean up the one I spilled all over the couch because of you.”

“Right away, princess.” He kissed the tip of her nose, walking into the kitchen, pouring hot water into two glasses before adding the cocoa powder into both of them.

Day Ten: Christmas Programs

Amy was in the front row, her hands at her sides as her smile widened by the second. Van didn’t like being at school again. He felt a little self-conscious sitting with all the fancy parents. The ones who went to college, or at least had their high school degree. Y/N squeezed his hand, knowing how he was feeling. “I love you, honey. So does Amy.”

“I know, but I’m not smart like you two.”

“We don’t give a shit. We love you for who you are, and your amazing lyrics. You’ve always had a way with words, McCann.”

“‘S how I got you, babe.” Y/N nodded, leaning her head onto Van’s the music of the program starting. The kids started singing, incredibly off-key, Van had to contain a laugh from escaping his mouth. “‘M sorry love, just can’t believe how terrible they are. Hopefully Amy’s singing good. She’s got it in her blood, you know.”

“Babe, again, I know. She was in my uterus for ten months, trust me, I know her better than anyone.” Y/N whispered, earning a few odd looks from the other parents. She didn’t mind, she was proud of who they were. Thankfully, twenty minutes later, the music ended and the kids were allowed to go home with their parents. “Yeah, baby, we heard you over all the other kids! You were so good!”

“Daddy, are you proud of me? I’m a good singer like you!”

“I’m very proud, love. How about we go home and eat some treats Mumma made for us?”

Day Eleven: Blanket Forts

The day started off normal, as per usual, and then came one of Van’s insane ideas. “Hey babe, let’s turn the living room into a huge blanket fort!” And for some odd reason, she agreed to it. She knew it would overall be a terrible idea, but did she care? No she did not. She would do anything to his that loser smile because he was the essence of sunshine. “I hate you for making me do this.”

“Babe, this is the coolest thing ever! Bet our Little One loves it.” He smiled, rubbing your belly as the two of them laid on the couch, laptop set in front of them with a really terrible Christmas movie playing. “Babe, she’s kicking!”

“Van, I know, she’s inside of me.”

“I was inside of you once. Technically, a little bit of me still is,” he smirked, making her roll her eyes and laugh at him. Her fingertip dragged down the slope of his nose, skipping past his lips to play with the patch of chest hair he had. His eyes didn’t leave her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She smiled, her hand moving to cup Van’s cheek. She pressed her lips to his, his lips soft against her own. Van’s hand played with the skin on her hip, drawing random shapes until they started drumming along to a song playing in his head. “What song’re you thinkin’ about?”

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey; you’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away...”

Day Twelve: Family Christmas Parties - Y/N’s Family

Van was wide awake the whole car ride there, unlike Y/N, who’d fallen asleep after the first twenty minutes. Van was nervous. He had met her parents before, yes, but never as her actual boyfriend. His hands felt sweaty against the wheel as he pulled into her parent’s driveway. He parked behind all the other cars, shaking his love awake. “Darlin’, we’re here. Please don’t let your parents murder me.”

“Van, hush. They love you, and you know it. Expect for when I told them you ate the last slice of pizza. They understood and hated you until I forgave you.” Y/N laughed, kissing Van’s cheek as she linked her arm in his. They knocked on the door, Y/N’s father opening the door and greeting the pair with hugs. She squeezed his hand, letting him know he was going to be fine before disappearing to find her mother.

“How are you, Van?” Y/N’s dad asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m doing good, how about you? The house looks amazing, Darren.” He compliment, internally wanting to die. He was so… awkward? Could he be awkward? Y/N thankfully came back before Darren could answer, handing Van a glass of wine. “Thank you, love.”

“Can I steal him away from you, dad?”

“Of course, bug. It was nice chatting with you, Van.”

“You too, Darren.” Van smiled, shaking his hand. He walked away, leaving Y/N and Van to themselves. She grabbed his hand, leading him away from the group of people. “Baby, what’re you doing?”

“Showing you something.” She grabbed Van’s glass of wine, putting it down on the bedside table next to hers. They were in Y/N’s old room. They’d moved in together after she turned nineteen. She pulled a cardboard box from underneath her bed, putting it in front of Van, who was sat on her bed. “All the letters you ever wrote me, and all the songs you gave me are in here. I want you to have them. I put other stuff in there, too.”

“Babe, I gave these to you for a reason.”

“Van, you don’t understand. I want you to just open the damn box.” She chuckled, pushing the box towards him. He looked up at her before opening the box. Inside lay a scrapbook, each page held a letter or song filled with love. Van’s eyes lit up, seeing old photographs in there as well. Captions on polaroids that would make some people very grossed out and uncomfortable. “See, I’m not just giving you them back. I’m giving it to you so you can add in my replies and anything else you want.”

“I love it so much, babe.” He got up to kiss her cheek, seeing a note that he had given her during English. It was silly, and contained information to one of his shows. She ended up going, making a spot for herself in the front row. He smiled the whole night, inviting her out for the remainder of the night, and the rest is history. “Thank you. I hope our kids see this someday.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” she smiled, pulling him in for a kiss.

Day Thirteen: Making Snowmen

Van’s mother, Mary, insisted on having the B&B decorated when their family came around. The tree was all dolled up, the house smelt of cinnamon and hot chocolate, candy canes hung from the trees outside. She left the two teenagers in charge of making a little snowmen family. The biggest of the two obviously being Mary and Bernie. “We’ve gotta make us now.”

“I’m not -” She started, readjusting her hat. Van cut her off, shaking his head.

“Yes you are. You always have been. Now, help me make me.” And for the next half an hour, they found the perfect materials to make the snowman into Van. It was fully equipped with a pen, a cigarette and a guitar made of sticks. Y/N laughed, realizing how much it truly resembled him. She grabbed Mary’s camera from inside, taking a picture of Van next to snowman Van. “Now we’ve gotta make you!”

“You two could be twins, if you had an uglier twin. She doesn’t look as beautiful as you,” he admitted, snapping a quick picture of her next to snowman Y/N. It had her hat, a selfless smile and Van’s jacket wrapped around the middle. Not to mention, Van and Y/N’s snowmen were holding sticks, which were supposed to be hands. “‘Cause we’re the bestest of friends, who occasionally like to hold hands and stuff.”

“You’re such a dork, McCann.”

Day Fourteen: Family Christmas Parties - Van’s Family

She’d always been a part of the family from the moment she walked in the door. Mary and Bernie could see how much Van loved and cared for her, even when he wouldn’t say it himself. Her laughter could be heard over Van’s which was unusual, nobody laughed or smiled nearly as often as he. “He’s like a ray of sunshine, Mary. Always happy about somethin’. You’ve raised such a good kid, I hope I’m as good a mother as you.”

“Dear, you’ll be just fine. It’s Van you’ve gotta watch out for. He’ll probably be what people would call a helicopter parent.” She laughed with Mary, her eyes pricking with tears at the true statement his mother had made. Van watched, from afar, the interaction between Mary and Y/N he was happy they could get along, peaceful conversation coming from the pair. Bernie also liked her, too. The McCann family loved her as if she were one of their own.

“Boy, you’ve gotta stop staring. She’ll get creeped out and leave you.” Bernie joked, his hand on his son’s shoulder. Van shook his head, looking up at his dad.

“Don’t think she’s gonna leave anytime soon, Da. I got her somethin’ really special for Christmas this year. And no, it’s not a signed picture of me like last year. I’ve learned my lesson.” Van laughed, his eyes trailing over to meet Y/N’s, shooting her a quick smile before walking over to her. He grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips. “I’m glad you’re here, Y/N. I really like you a lot.”

“I like you, too. I actually got you something.” She remembered, dragging him over to her book bag. She pulled out a picture frame, the two of them smiling for infinity as Larry took their picture. He remembered the day so vividly. In the corner was a small piece of paper, Van’s old phone number scribbled on it. “Had to frame your lousy attempt to ask me out. Couldn’t even read your damn handwriting.”

“Coming from the one with chicken scratch writing you call penmanship! At least people can plausibly read mine!” They laughed, his arms wrapping around her. “Thank you, though. I really fucking love it. I got you something, too.”

His hand reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small box. Inside was a bracelet that was engraved with his name. His full name, so she’d always be able to carry a piece of him around with her while he’s away. “Van, I love it.”

“I’m glad. I couldn’t just get you any simple thing. Want you to always think of me. Especially when I’ve gone away and I’ve left you with these fucks you call schoolmates.” Her lips pressed against his cheek, soft and sweet. He blushed and his fingertips grazed over where her lips touched. He was so in love with her.

Day Fifteen: Ice Skating

Watching Van struggle to stay up on the ice was more than fun. His legs wobbled and his arms were outstretched in front of him, steadying his balance. He was in a squatting position, his knees curving inwards a bit. Y/N had done this plenty of times, missing skating from when she was younger. It was like riding a bike to her. “Grab my hands, you twat!”

“Wow, someone’s sassy this morning. Have you any idea what’s coming up? You could get coal from Santa this year, Mister.” She teased, grabbing Van’s hands, helping him stand up straight. “C’mon, babe, you can do better than this.”

“I really fucking can’t, Y/N, you’ve known me for how long? Why do you think I avoid anything involving balancing?” He spoke, ignoring the fact that she called him babe. His cheeks were red, though, at the fact that he was, indeed, holding her hands. He skated - well, was pulled - around the rink, smiling as Y/N almost fell a few times. “And you say you can skate.”

“You do realize I haven’t skated since I was twelve, right? I’m going to be a little rusty, you fuckhead.” She laughed, letting go of his hands.

Day Sixteen: Candy Making

Van was a terrible candy maker, and an even worse assistant. Flour not only laid on the counters and floor, but also found a home in Y/N and Van’s hair and clothing. “Love, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t try to.”

“You’re so gonna pay for this McCann!” She yelled, throwing a handful of flour towards him. For fifteen minutes they had a flour fight, throwing chocolate chips at each other as well. “Okay, okay! I surrender!”

“Good, cause I’m really hungry, and the cookies in the oven are done.” Y/N laughed, pulling them out with an oven mitt. Van went to grab one, but she slapped his hand away. He looked so hurt by her not letting him have one - he looked like he could burst into tears at any moment.

“Only good boys deserve cookies.”

“I’m a good boy!” He pouted, sitting on the counter, the ass of his black jeans turning white. She looked at him before her eyes scanned the rest of the kitchen. “Baby, I will clean all of this up if you give me a cookie, I promise.”

“After you clean this kitchen up, you will get two cookies,” he smiled, silently congratulating himself. “And a nice warm shower with me.”

“Fuck the cookies, love, showering with you is sweeter than any candy.”

Day Seventeen: Sledding

It had snowed three days before Y/N decided to take the kids sledding. Van came with, bringing Bob and Benji, who also brought Dani. It was perfect. Y/N’d let the others watch her kids while she went down with Van, switching between him and their kids. Laughter could be heard from miles away and their smiles were as big as the sun. “Again, mommy! Again!”

“Baby, a few more times and then we have to go, we’ve been here for three hours.” Van spoke up, grabbing his daughter’s hand. He put her down on the sled in front of him, holding onto her waist Y/N gave them a little push. Van was absolutely tired, as well as the three other adults. Where do these little humans get all of their energy from?

“Alright, loves, who wants to go get some goodies?” Y/N asked, pointing to a little bakery on the corner. The kids shouted, grabbing Bob and Benji’s hands. Y/N linked her arm in Van’s after they returned the sleds to the man they rented them from. It was the perfect way to end a perfect afternoon. “Don’t eat them too fast, you’ll get a stomach ache! You too, McCann, I see you chowing down on those pastries.”

“Oi! I’ve earned these! I’ve spent my day sledding, cooking breakfast, and preparing our afternoon. Plus, I had to drive all the way across town before you three woke up and found out I left.”

“Why’d you do that?” Y/N asked, wiping a bit of chocolate from around Oliver’s mouth, putting her thumb in her mouth. Benji, Bob, and Dani exchanged looks before Bob pulled out his camera. He’d used it all afternoon to take pictures of us.

“‘Cause I figured it’d be a good time to do this,” he spoke, Y/N’s hands coming over her mouth. Her eyes became watery as soon as his knee touched the ground. Everyone around them looked over at the two, smiling as they cheered Van on. “You’re the mother of my children, and my best friend. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you by my side for all these years. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to propose, I should’ve done it years ago. But we’re both at a place in our lives where everything is going to plan… well, almost everything. I can’t believe you’ve stuck by me this long, honestly. Thought you would’ve left when I started touring.”

“I would never leave you. I could never.”

“That’s good. Really fucking good, ‘cause I want you to be in my life forever. Will you… marry me, Y/N?”

Day Eighteen: Cheesy Christmas Movies

“Why do you wanna watch this?” He asked, groaning as she picked a Christmas movie.

“‘Cause it’s almost Christmas time and we’re having our own Christmas, you Grinch!” She chuckled, slapping his arm lightly. They were in the living room, cuddled up on the couch. It wasn’t as cramped as they thought it would be with the tree in the living room as well, but it wasn’t the most private place they could’ve been. Van wished he had a television in his room, getting to spend his time watching movies with her tucked under his arm on his bed.

“You’re lucky you’re my best friend, Y/N Y/M/N.” He shook his head as the movie started. She scooted closer to him, if that was even possible. Her head laid on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his middle, her hand had snuck under his shirt and began to rub the skin around his hip bones. His arm was wrapped around her, his fingertips sliding over her back. He for sure thought he was going to go mad. He couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of her hands on his bare skin. He wondered what the rest of her skin felt like. Was it as soft as her hands? Would she allow him to find that out someday?

The possibilities were endless. She could fall asleep on him and end up staying on the couch or Van would eventually carry her up to his room. Or he could take her up there now, deciding it had already become too late. That would be stupid, considering it was only nine o’clock. Van focused on Y/N, her head now laid in his lap. “Are you falling asleep?”

“A little bit, yeah. Can we watch it again tomorrow? I’m really tired.” Her voice slurred, lulled with sleep. He nodded, kissing her forehead before he turned off the tv. He turned back around, her eyes were shut and figured she’d probably fallen asleep during the time he took to take the DVD out of the player and put it onto a shelf. He smiled at her, carrying her up to his bed. He was getting ready to leave when she spoke up. “Stay with me? Please?”

Day Nineteen: Fireplace Fires

“I hope you know we’ve started a fire. You don’t need three thousand blankets, love.” Van laughed, pulling a layer from her body. She protested, pulling it back over herself, making Van shake his head. They sat right in front of the fireplace, the heat from the fire instantly warming Y/N. She didn’t want Van’s ‘I told you so’ to ring from her ears, so she asked him to talk about something. Anything. “Don’t know what you want me to talk about, love. Really.”

“Anything, baby. You could even talk about how much you hate One Direction for all I care. I just wanna hear you talk.” It was the truth, and a good way to peel away the layers while Van was too distracted talking.

“I can tell you about the time I knew I was in love with you, if you’d like.” She nodded, her head finding its way onto his thigh. His left hand played with her hair while the other one kept him upright. He had probably told this story a hundred times before, it never getting old, feeling the same way as the first time he’d told it. She listened intently, her fingers drawing figure eights on his knee. The crackle of the fire made the story more alive somehow. She didn’t know why, but it just felt more real that way.

“You were goin’ fucking mental out there on the floor, just whippin’ your arms all about. Figured you’d be in my life for the rest of it. Knew I needed to keep you if you can dance as horribly as Bondy.” They both laughed, Van harder than Y/N. She attempted to out-dance Bondy, which she obviously won. It was a terrible dancing contest, and she just knew how to win. “You look really fucking pretty right now, and if it weren’t the three million blankets you’ve got on, I would totally have sex with you.”

“Better take them off then, yeah?” Van nodded, smiling into the kiss. It was sweet and soft, his lips pressed harder onto yours. He was quite serious when he offered, and she was quite serious when she agreed. Thank God the fire kept them warm.

Day Twenty: Cheesy Christmas Music

“How can you listen to this shit, babe?” He asked, already annoyed with the first three notes of the classic Mariah Carey song. “It actually gives me cancer, I can’t understand how you enjoy this.”

“Excuse you, Mariah Carey is a goddess.”

“She can barely sing! Lemme sing it instead.” He offered, turning down the music in the car. She told him to be her guest, letting him prove his Christmas song-singing ability. “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there’s just one thing I need. I don’t care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree. I just need my girlfriend Y/N to have wonderful sex with me, maybe even throw in a blowjob or two in for free.”

“You’re such a twat, you know that?” She asked, turning onto their street.

“Hey, you said, and I quote, ‘be my guest’. So I sung! But I sang my version,” he winked at her, helping bring in the groceries. She just shook her head, not saying anything to her dorky, and tacky, boyfriend. “Did I do a good job?”

“Make a Christmas album next year, I’m sure fans would be thrilled to hear you sing that to them.” She laughed, putting produce in its appropriate places.

“So... about the sex and blowjobs for Christmas, I never heard a no?”

“Behave for the next couple of days, and we’ll see.” Vaguely coming from the kitchen, she heard Van whisper ‘yes!’ to himself.

Day Twenty-One: Mistletoe

Benji threw legendary Christmas parties. Everyone was drinking, having a good time. Maybe in another life, Van would walk into his with Y/N tucked underneath his arm, making out with her underneath the mistletoe. But that wasn’t this life. He was nauseous at the thought of kissing her. Not because he didn’t like her, he certainly fucking did, he was just so nervous. Would he be terrible at it? Would she hate the taste of booze and cigarettes?

“Van, glad you could make it! Y/N’s in the kitchen,” Benji spoke as he greeted Van. “Are you actually gonna kiss her this year, or chicken out like you do every chance you get?”

“Fuck you, Benji, I’m gonna kiss her. And I’m gonna do it under the mistletoe, just you watch.” He replied, laughing while saying the first bit. He walked into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Y/N from behind. She turned around, hugging him back. “Hello, love. Benji said you’d be in ‘ere.”

“Benny’s just looking out for me. Wants you to babysit me tonight, but I told him I’m not getting drunk this year. I wanna remember everything this time,” she laughed, pulling away from Van. He nodded, listening intently to every word she said. “You got any other plans for tonight?”

“Uh,” here it was. He had to tell her he liked her now, or he’d never get the chance for another two years. “Was planning on kissin’ you under the mistletoe, actually.”

“Oh really?” She asked, biting back a smile. He nodded again, licking his lips. He pulled her over to the door frame of the kitchen, where the mistletoe hung from. “What makes you so sure I’m gonna kiss back?”

“Well, I’m not sure you’re going to. I’m doing this ‘cause I’ve liked you for the past two years and I’m pretty damn tired of you kissin’ on other people.” He smashed his lips onto hers, her face in his hands. She kissed him back, her hands pulling on his hips, bringing his body closer.

Day Twenty-Two: Making Cookies for Santa

Nobody ever said making cookies for Santa was a good idea. Maybe they did, but they didn’t truly understand the force of Van and Y/N’s children. But everyday until the twenty fourth, two cookies at a time would disappear from the plate. Y/N knew her kids were taking him, but she never expected Van to. “Babe those are for Santa!” She whisper shouted, not wanting to wake her kids.

“Sweetheart, I’m technically Santa Claus, here, have one.” She didn’t take the cookie he offered her, his smile faltering. “I’ll have the kids help me make more tomorrow.”

“You better. And make them banana cookies, Santa and Mrs. Claus love banana things.” Y/N shot a wink towards Van, walking upstairs into their bedroom, hearing Van come in two minutes after her. They fell asleep almost instantly when their heads hit their pillows.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to a disaster in the kitchen. Banana peels were everywhere, making Y/N laugh to herself. She was happy Van took her advice, looking from Amy, who was making little balls of the cookie dough, and Olli, who was going to eventually get a stomach ache from eating it. “Oliver Adam, seriously, what did I say? Stop eating it, and save it for the cookies. Mumma’s gonna be angry when she finds out why you’re sick.”

“Not entirely angry, but there will be no cookie-eating in your future if you keep it up, Little Man.” She gave him the mom glare, making him stop eating the cookie dough from the bowl. She smiled at her kids before giving Van a quick kiss on the lips.

“Made you tea, love, it’s waiting in the microwave for ya.”

Day Twenty-Three: Gingerbread Houses

It wasn’t as easy as it looked. Frosting was everywhere but the houses, which wasn’t the fucking plan. Y/N was a little upset, frosting somehow ending up in Amy and her’s hair. Van was frosting free, his afternoon was being spent in the studio wrapping it up on album number four. She called him, his voice echoing throughout the kitchen. “’Ello? What’s up, sugar?”

“Yeah, babe, can you pick up some baby wipes on your way back, and some frosting, please?”

“May I ask why?”

“Your daughter and I have been covered in frosting, and we’re out of wipes.” She admitted, huffing as she tried to run her fingers through her hair. Y/N was entirely unsuccessful. “Please hurry, babe. I wanna finish these up so I can get us in the bath.”

Van was back in twenty minutes, two tubs of frosting and two packages of baby wipes in a plastic bag. He handed you the frosting, beginning to clean off his baby girl. “For a two year old, you’re very smart, putting frosting where it shouldn’t be. Look at mumma, she’s putting the frosting ON the houses, not IN her hair.”

“Daddy, you’re silly.” She giggled, clapping her frosting covered hands together.

“Love, you wanna finish the houses while I start a bath for this one?” Y/N nodded, rushing to get the two of them done. It took her fifteen minutes to finish them, and by that time Amy was already in different clothes, laying down for a nap. “Bath’s open. Made it warmer and filled it with new water and everythin’. Can I join you?”

“Only if you wash my hair.”

Day Twenty-Four: Twas the Night Before Christmas

“Oliver, you’ve gotta brush ya teeth, otherwise Santa’s gonna give you coal. All of your presents will go to a boy who behaves well.”

“No! I want them, Daddy!”

“Brush ya teeth, then. Do you need mom or I to help?” Oliver nodded, dragging his father by the hand into the bathroom. Y/N helped Amy lineup her stuffed animals against the wall, setting the most important one closest to her daughter’s head. Y/N opened up the blanket to her daughter, who’d already brushed, flossed and got into her pajamas.

“Is it okay if Olli sleeps in here tonight? That way he wakes you up first and not us,” Y/N chuckled, kissing her daughter’s forehead. She smiled, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “I love you, Ames. You sleep good okay? Mommy’ll be sleeping when you wake up, but you and Olli better come wake Daddy and I up before you start openin’ gifts, alright?”

“Okay, Mommy. Can Daddy read to us when he’s done helping Olli?” Y/N nodded, smiling at her baby girl before waiting for Van to finish in the bathroom. Christmas was one of the best times of the year. Van got Oliver all tucked in, turning on Amy’s nightlight before beginning to read their favorite Christmas story. Y/N sat next to him, her head laying on Van’s lap.

“‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…”

Day Twenty-Five: Opening Gifts

Y/N underestimated the force of her children’s voices. Especially on Christmas. Van didn’t even move a muscle, used to hearing people screaming in his ear for two minutes straight. Y/N pushed him out of bed, making him follow behind her and the kids. While Van sat half asleep on the couch, Y/N grabbed a garbage bag for all of the wrapping paper. “Mommy look what I got!”

“I see that Olli, you’ve wanted that since forever!” Y/N said, watching Olli open up the firetruck. Amy got a few more action figures, a coloring book, and a little art set. Olli got his firetruck, a few packages of those little green army men, and a drum set that Bondy demanded they give to him. “I don’t think Santa forgot about Daddy.”

“I’m happy he didn’t.” Van smiled, opening his gift. It was a picture frame with three sonogram pictures inside. He looked up at Y/N, his eyes teary. She nodded, smiling back at him. He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up. He set her down carefully, sinking down to the floor. His head rested on her stomach, kissing it lightly. “Santa brought you something, too.”

“No fucking way,” she gasped, opening the velvet, navy box. Inside was a golden necklace, set onto white silk. It glowed in the light, her eyes already teary from Van opening his gift. It was his necklace, and he wanted her to have it. She began to cry, and not the pretty cry either. Full on ugly cry, sobs included. “Baby, I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re the mother of my children, and I’ve wanted to spend my life with you since I met you behind the bleachers during Phy Ed. I knew I was going to give it to you someday. I should’ve given it to you sooner, though.” He admitted, fastening it around your neck.

“No, right now is perfect. You’re perfect.”

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