esbee-daisy - Tumblr blog

[esbee-daisy]

She made her choice. Now we have to find a way to live with that.

[esbee-daisy]

recovering A is sitting outside with caretaker B. it’s a pleasant day, with mild weather and sunshine, and B figures that even though A’s still fairly weak, the fresh air will do them good. and for a while, it does seem to lift their spirits and bring a bit of color back in their pale cheeks.

A enjoys being outdoors at first, but despite their sweater and the heat of the afternoon sun, they’re barely warm at all.

suddenly, the sun darts behind a cloud, and A shudders.

“feeling alright?” B asks, brow furrowing.

“I’m okay.” A wraps their arms around themselves, trying to ignore the goosebumps that prickle down their spine, and wishes they’d brought out a blanket to tuck around them. I thought the sweater was enough, it’s not even that cold.

the sun returns a few minutes later, but it’s too late—A feels their frail body start to tremble, overcompensating for the slight change in temperature.

“A, you’re shivering.”

“Just got a chill, that’s all.” A hates the way their voice wavers, the way they can barely force the words out through their chattering teeth, the way their bones are suddenly, impossibly freezing, like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over their head.

B jumps up from their chair and instantly comes to A’s side, cursing softly. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you out—“

“It’s fine, B. I wanted to come outside for a change.” Still, B helps them up and guides them inside to their chair, then covers their shivering frame with one blanket, then two, and begins to build up the fire in the small cabin.

“I’ll make you some tea, too, try and warm you up from the inside…” B’s voice trails off as they rustle around in the kitchen.

But A knows it’s no use from experience: they won’t truly stop feeling chilled until their hot bath tonight. And I can’t take my bath too early or else I’ll inevitably get cold some other stupid way, and I’m not making B run me two baths.

Recovering has been slow and frustrating, this part most of all. Why can’t their body maintain their temperature like it used to? Why are they so damn cold all the time?

They don’t realize they’re crying until they feel wipe away the twin tears on their cheeks, and they see B crouching to eye level. The concern on B’s face only makes A cry harder—they don’t want to be this weak, they didn’t used to be this way, they just want things to be better…

And they must say all that out loud, because now B’s arms are around them. “I know. I know it’s hard. We’ll get through this, A.”

There will be more blankets, and hot tea, and against A’s efforts, two baths. But in that moment, A’s never been more grateful for the warmth of B’s arms.

I will get through this.

[esbee-daisy]

this was originally written for the sicktember prompt “I should have stayed home” but I forgot about it. so enjoy it now!!!

A raises their eyebrows as they see B dressing to go into town. “B, are you sure you don’t want us to to stay home and rest for another week? I can handle it.”

B shakes their head, pulling on their coat and winding their scarf around their neck. “I’m fine. I’ll go mad if I have to stay inside another day, and I want to help.”

A sighs, trying not to notice the dark shadows under B’s eyes. B’s been under the weather for the last week and a half, battling a terrible cold that hit along with the sudden cold snap. After nearly a week of being too weak to leave their bed, B had been getting restless, their mind tired of being confined to the cabin even while their body struggled to recover. But A wants to trusts B’s judgement of their own body and how they're feeling, so they let the matter drop.

Besides, A thinks, with the smallest tinge of guilt, we really do need the money from this market—maybe they really are ready to help. The doctor’s visits and bottle of medicines had stretched them thin this month, and there were only a few markets left to sell as much as they could before winter would set in.

On the ride into town, B seems alright—a bit more talkative and a few more smiles and rough-voiced laughs at A’s banter. And for a moment, A wonders if B’s just feeling better than they look.

But when they arrive at the town’s weekend market and start to set up their wares, A notices the way B struggles to lift even the lightest of the crates, how frequently they stop tug their scarf closer against the damp, misty air, how hunched their shoulders are. A says nothing, but tries to move the other crates as quickly as possible to ensure B doesn’t have to work as hard.

“You sure you’re okay, B?” A asks as they unload the final crate. They look exhausted.

B nods, though A notices they’re a few shades paler than when they left home. “I’m alright. Just not used to this much activity.” They try a weak smile, but it only serves to underscore how worn out they already look.

“B, if you need a break, you rest, alright?” A’s voice is stern, but they let their hand gently squeeze B’s shoulder, and B nods again. “And if you're not feeling well, you tell me.” B nods, their gaze already slightly glazed, and A fights back the urge to head for home right that moment. Trust them. They’ll say something.

The market opens, and soon A’s swept up in orders, chatting with friends and neighbors, hurriedly moving about their stand to ensure everyone has what they need. Out of the corner of their eye, they see B seated on one of the barrels they brought.

Good, A thinks as they take the money from another customer. They're taking a break like they're supposed to.

The morning continues, cold and cloudy and breezy, with a steady stream of customers buying their goods. It isn’t until a lull in the customers later in the morning that A sees C, a fellow vendor and friend from a neighboring farmstead, come by with a grey wool blanket tucked under their arms.

A shakes hands with C and the two exchange pleasantries about the weather, the harvest, the town news, and everything in between as A gathers up C’s usual order.

Then, C holds out the blanket. “For B.”

A takes the blanket, a puzzled expression on their face. “What?”

C gestures behind them. “Poor thing’s looked miserable all morning, and we had an extra blanket in our wagon. D said they couldn’t bear to watch them freeze for another minute.”

A whirls around. Sure enough, B’s curled up on the barrel, visibly trembling and clutching their coat close to themselves, and most definitely not the picture of health.

A takes the outstretched blanket and hurriedly nods to C in gratitude, then rushes back to B, who looks awful. All the color is gone from their face, their lips are a faint purplish-blue, and their teeth are chattering. When A takes B's hands, they feel like ice. A should have known that B would be too easily chilled in weather like this, especially considering how under the weather they’d been.

“B, what happened?” A briskly rubs B’s hands before tucking the blanket around B, then rubs their shoulders for good measure.

B tugs the blanket closer, shrugging. “Got c-cold.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“D-didn’t want t-to bother you. We need the money.”

A curses under their breath, wrapping their arms around B and pulling them close, wincing as they feel how frail B is in their arms, the near-constant shivers that wrack their frame.

B’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “I s-should have s-s-stayed home.”

They weren’t better after all, A thinks grimly. Helplessly, they look around the stand—boxes of goods that need packing up, loaded back into the wagon—and then there’s B, who’s practically collapsing in A’s arm, who A desperately wants to get out of the wind—

Before they can even begin to feel the full weight of the crushing guilt, C’s in their line of vision, eyes full of concern. “Go home. We’ll take care of this.”

“C, I can’t—“

“A, don’t worry. We’ll pack it all up. You can stop by the farm whenever to get it.”

A can barely whisper a thank you through the lump in their throat, then turns to B. “Alright, B. Let’s get you home and warmed up.”

Gone is the easy chatter of their ride into town—now, B just curls into A’s side, face buried in the blanket, soft, keening whimpers as they press their body closer to A and their warmth. Around them, the smallest snowflakes begin to fall, little glittering shards that dust A’s coat and make them will their horse to go faster.

When they arrive home, A practically leaps out of the wagon, B in their arms. A hurries B inside, setting them in a chair and stoking the coals to get the fire high. B’s trembling from head to toe, and A hastily covers them in another blanket, vigorously rubbing their arms. “There you go. I’ll get something hot for you to drink, then get you in a warm bath. How does that sound?” A tries to keep their voice even. B’s teeth are chattering too hard to respond.

After putting the horse and wagon away, A gets to work heating some canned broth from their pantry, then helps spoon feed sips through B’s lips when they’re shaking too hard to hold the bowl.

When they’re finished, A realizes that B’s ghostly pallor had been replaced with glassy eyes and high spots of color on their cheeks.

“B…how are you feeling?” A’s tone is cautious, warning.

“Cold,” B rasps, and still they shivered and clung to the blankets as they hunched close to the fire. “Need…need the hot bath.”

A palms a cool hand on B’s forehead, and their worst fears are confirmed. Whether B’s fever had never been gone or had relapsed when B had gotten chilled, it was back with a vengeance. They’re sicker now than they had been all week.

“B, you’ve got a fever. I….I can’t.”

B’s eyes are wild, feverish, desperate. “Please. Even a minute or two.” Their voice cracks on the last word, and they cough feebly.

“B, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

After a few minutes of desperate pacing, a compromise was reached: a small washbasin filled with heated water so B could soak their feet and hopefully take the edge off their chills.

After being dressed in the softest clothes A could find, B’s tucked into bed under two quilts pulled up to their chin.

B coughs feebly and tugs the blankets over their nose. Outside, the wind howls as a fall storm blows through, small icy pellets pelting the windowpanes, and B shudders weakly. “The wind. I can still feel it in my bones.”

A doesn’t feel a draft—only the stuffy air of an overheated cabin. Still, they smooth the quilts over B’s body before covering them with a third blanket, gently hushing them. B grasps the covers, squeezing their eyes shut as a single tear escapes.

“Please, A. I’m so cold. I want to go home.”

Great. Now they’re hallucinating.

“You’re alright. You’re inside where it’s warm.”

“Please, A. I want to go home.” B’s voice cracks on the last plea, and A can’t take it any more. They crawl under the covers with B, wrapping them up in their arms and hugging them close, feeling the fever burn through the layers.

“I’ll keep you warm, B. Just try to sleep.”

B rolls over to face A, and A can just catch the tear tracks in the flickering light of the fire. But it’s only a moment before B buries their face in A’s chest. So A hugs them closer, whispering soft, encouraging words as they try and lull B to sleep.

[esbee-daisy]

Caretaker sitting behind a very weak and semiconscious whumpee, holding their limp body upright against their chest. To get food or medicine or water into them, or to help fight off a chest infection, or to provide some comfort and stability while a wound is stitched...I will never not love this image

[esbee-daisy]

Red Sparrow (2018)

[esbee-daisy]

Random Bellarke moments (pt.9)

[esbee-daisy]

thank you to everyone who took part in this challenge with your amazing creations! last year we had 7 completionists and this year there's 23 of you, which is very cool

and Here's the list of the Whumpuary 2024 completionists, congrats everyone, big kudos to all of you!!

@starduckys [ao3]

@autobot2001 [tumblr masterpost]

alchemistsarego [ao3] (@fullmetalninjabunny)

@there-will-always-be-blood [tumblr masterpost]

OrlanitaMariciaCanon [ao3]

@blogger360ncislarules [ao3]

Melanie O'Hara [tumblr masterpost] [ao3] (@melanie-ohara)

@snakebites-and-ink [tumblr masterpost]

Murda [tumblr masterpost] (@celtic-crossbow)

@medusapelagia [tumblr masterpost] [ao3]

@whumpitlikeyoumeanit [tumblr masterpost]

Orphistry [ao3]

Pepper [ao3] (@sunnnnyy)

@tildeathiwillwrite [tumblr masterpost]

Melissa Irene Burrowes [ao3 all prompts fic] (@fanficfox)

Penni [tumblr masterpost] (@suspensefulpen)

@m-j98 [ao3]

Luci An Insanity [ao3] (@lucianinsanity)

@angeygirl [tumblr masterpost]

TheRaichu [tumblr masterpost] [ao3] (@fanficbutnow)

@cyberwhumper [tumblr masterpost]

JanetM74 [tumblr masterpost] (@janetm74fics)

truth [tumblr masterpost] (@truthdawn)

[esbee-daisy]

WandaNat (+R) Masterlist

My Favorites: ☆

Cleaning Fever (sick R) Party Time (sick R) Point Of No Return (sick R) Safe In Their Arms (sick R) If Only You Were Warmer (sick R) I Demand Cuddles (sick R) Birthday Wish (sick R) ☆ Are You Staying (sick R) No Questions (sick R) If You Can't Handle The Heat (sick R) A Little Less Wisdom Pt 1 (sick R) ☆ A Little Less Wisdom Pt 2 (sick R) ☆ Stupid Lungs Pt 1 (sick R) Stupid Lungs Pt 2 (sick R) Date Night (sick R) Painful Whispers (sick R)

[esbee-daisy]

Stupid Lungs

Pneu-mo-nia; noun: lung inflammation caused by bacterial or viral infection, in which the air sacs fill with pus and may become solid. Inflammation may affect both lungs ( double pneumonia ), one lung ( single pneumonia ), or only certain lobes ( lobar pneumonia ). (wandanat x reader)

Word Count: 3513

(part two)

-----

“Y/n, you’re clearly too sick to be out of bed. I can hear your lungs crackling from here!” Tony exclaimed after what must’ve been your third coughing fit interrupted the meeting. He was standing in the corner opposite you, glaring. Unfortunately, the glare was undercut by the clear worry in his voice. 

Tony was right about your breathing, it wasn’t great. Every inhale felt like glass cutting your throat which eventually moved to sit heavily on top of your lungs. Each coughing fit was wet, but refused to do anything to help with the mucus which had made a home in your bronchi. 

“I’m fine.” You choked out, fighting to stifle a sneeze building in your sinuses. Sneezing would just make everything hurt worse. Naturally you lost, and aimed two unfortunately wet sneezes into your elbow. Instantly your cheeks flushed from embarrassment and you stared at the table as you wiped your drippy nose on your sleeve, wishing for a box of tissues. 

“Get out, germ face.” Tony’s voice cut through the thick fog of congestion that had settled in your ears and you shot him what you wanted to be a devastating look. It wasn’t very good though, because your eyes burned and you couldn’t stop sniffling. 

“Tony’s right, let’s go.” Natasha murmured, pulling you up by your arm. 

“No, I’m staying. We-we have to–” You sneezed aggressively into your hand, tears pricking your dull eyes. You hated having so little control over your stupid, useless body. 

“No, you’re not. FRIDAY, disinfect the whole room. Nothing that will kill us, just murder the germs. Y/n, I’m serious, I will drag you out of here by your hair if you don’t leave right the fuck now.” You knew that Tony wouldn’t go anywhere near you right now, but you wouldn't be surprised if Nat just threw you over her shoulder. Natasha’s hand had stayed glued to your back the entire time and she kept flashing you nervous looks. 

“On it boss,” A vent opened and the smell of disinfectant filled the room, just in time for you to start coughing again. 

“You need me to take you to bed?” Natasha asked, reaching out to take your hand. You pulled away, embarrassment flushing hot on your cheeks. You hated that Natasha had to see you like this. 

You’d fallen in love with the woman from the moment you laid eyes on her. Everything she did was breathtaking. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, that little crinkle in her forehead she got every time she worried, how her hair seemed to glow in the sunset. But she was with Wanda. Wanda was a whole different problem. Oh, gods, Wanda. 

You’d nearly died when you’d first seen her. Her auburn curls bounced when she walked, her brilliant smile that could light up a room, the way she was always so kind to you, especially when you’d first joined the team. You’d arrived five months ago riddled with uncontrollable social anxiety. These heroes saved you from yourself. You owed them everything, but your feelings for Wanda and Natasha were beyond anything you’d ever felt. And they were dating. So you got to watch their joy from the outside, wishing you could melt into their arms. 

“I’m fine Natasha, I’ll go myself. Just,” You stood and a wave of black spots danced in your vision. The hand that had brushed your fingers returned and you pulled away tearfully.

“Please don’t touch.” You muttered, racing out of the room. 

You made it to the elevator without collapsing, but as soon as you reached it you fell against the wall, a sneezing fit overcoming your body. A quiet sob escaped from your painfully clenched lungs, but it turned into a bout of miserable sounding coughs. 

“Ms. Y/n, I believe that I should alert one of the Avengers. Ms. Maximoff is in the kitchen making something to eat, I will have her come to your aid.” FRIDAY informed, not really looking to give you a choice in the matter. You whimpered quietly, trying to get her to stop. 

“N-no, please…FRIDAY, I’m fine. Don-don’t tell Wanda. Don’t tell Wanda. Just unlock my room and set up a zoom call. I’m still going to the meeting, even if they kick me out of the meeting.” The last sentence was said with a lot more confidence than you felt, primarily because you were hoping to trick yourself into feeling more normal. 

“Ms., I do not believe that this is a wise decision. Ms. Maximoff would be happy to assist you

“I don’t care. As soon as I get off, sanitize the elevator.” You demanded, forcing yourself to regain your composure. You had a witch to fool. 

Getting past Wanda was easier than you’d expected. The woman was caught up in her cooking, humming along to a song playing softly in the background. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her work, sniffling quietly so as not to disturb her. 

“Hey Y/n/n, meeting go well?” She asked, not really bothering to look at you, she was too busy cooking. Whatever it was, it probably smelled amazing. 

“Hey Wanda,” You managed not to sound too congested, but it was notable enough that you sort of ran past her, not allowing the conversation to continue. You could feel her eyes on you as you left, the concern starting to build in her stomach. You always stopped to talk to her even if you were busy. Hell, you let her read your thoughts when you were on missions so that you could have a fucking conversation. 

She shook her head slightly, vowing to keep her mind open to your thoughts. She wouldn’t pry unless you allowed her too but this way she could hear you if you were in significant distress.

—

“FRI, connect me to the conference room.” You mumbled, sort of collapsing onto your bed. If you were in bed you might as well get comfortable. You’d just managed to wrap a blanket around your shoulders when the team appeared on the TV screen, in the middle of a heated discussion. 

“Hi guys,” You croaked, sniffling against the fabric of your well loved blanket. It was worn with years of love and had helped you through near countless nightmares. It was your most prized possession. 

“No! FRIDAY, get her off. Now.” Tony ordered, practically leaping out of his skin at your voice. You’d scared him, and he was a little embarrassed. 

“I-if you do that I’ll just come downstairs!” You burst out, wiping your nose on your blanket. There was a sneeze building in your sinuses and you were trying to keep it at bay. The Avengers were all staring at you from the other side of the screen, Natasha in open mouthed disbelief.

She couldn’t understand how you were still functioning. She’d half expected to hear FRI alerting everyone that you’d passed out in the elevator. You didn’t acknowledge her in fear that you’d just start crying. You wanted her to hold you. Well, you really just wanted to be held. But it would’ve been nice if she held you. 

“Look, she’s not going to listen to reason. Just let her listen until she falls asleep.” Clint reasoned, shrugging. He was obviously concerned but he was also right. You shrugged, acknowledging it. 

Deciding that all they could do was let you stay, they went back to the debrief, discussing how best to go about stealth tactics next time. A lot of it was centered around hiding better. For some reason Tony was really concerned with hiding. 

“Heh…hetchiw!” You stifled a sneeze into your shirt, trying your best not to interrupt. Natasha’s eyes flicked towards you and you forced a small smile, sniffling wetly. You wished that you had tissues, not grabbing them was probably a bit of an oversight. Natasha just shook her head, one eyebrow raised. She looked down quickly, and then back up at you.

Your phone buzzed by your side and you picked it up, blinking a couple of times as you tried to focus on the screen. The words were swimming in front of your eyes and it hurt to…well it hurt to see. Your eyes felt like they were on fire and you recognized that you probably should’ve checked your temperature earlier. 

My Assassin- You’re better than this x.

You- I’m fine, Tash, focus on the debrief or Tony will get mad. 

You saw Natasha smirk from the video feed and she rolled her brilliant green eyes. She almost looked happy for a second, but then a particularly harsh coughing fit tore from your lungs. A glob of mucus filled your mouth and you spat it out into the trash can, trying to ignore the greenish tint. That probably wasn’t a good thing, but you’d deal with it later. 

My Assassin- bullshit. your breathing is terrible, we might need to take you to see bruce. please go to sleep, i’ll record the whole damn meeting if it’ll get you to sleep.

“You’re done, Fri kick her off and lock her door. Sleep well Y/n/n.” Tony said, waving a hand at you. Before you could put in a legitimate protest the TV screen was off and your door clicked. Tears instantly filled your eyes, fear jamming its way down your throat. You couldn’t be locked in like this. You couldn’t do it again. No more. You needed to go.

“FRIDAY let me out! Let me out, please Fri let me out!” You ran to the door and pounded on it, jiggling the knob, desperation filling your actions. “Let. Me. Out! I need to get out, please, please out! Please!” You slid to the floor, banging your head against the hardwood. It was the only thing you could think of. There was nothing else left, this was the end. This was how you died. 

A soft click brought you out of your panic and the door opened, spilling you out of your room and into a warm body.

Tears flowed down your cheeks as you clung to the person, chest heaving. You didn’t care who it was. 

“Hey, hey I’ve got you,” Wanda's arms wrapped around your middle and you found yourself burying your head in her neck. The action was almost involuntary, as your touch starved brain melted into her, trying desperately to hold back sobs. 

You shook against her with unheard cries, clutching fistfulls of her shirt as if she would disappear if you loosened your grip.

“Okay honey, just breathe. I’m right here. Can you tell me what happened?” She crooned, very gently running her fingers over your scalp. The pet name wasn’t lost on you, although you were too miserable to acknowledge the fluttery feeling in your chest. 

“I don’t feel good…” You bawled, well aware that you sounded like a child. You were too tired to care anymore. This was the worst that you’d felt in a long time and your body craved the comfort that she brought. 

“Shh, shh, that’s alright, we can fix that. It’s all going to be okay Y/n/n.” You sobbed again, her kind words sounding like a lie to your fever muddled mind. 

“Why aren’t you in bed, baby girl?” She murmured, shifting so that she could stare into your dull, glass eyes. You looked away, biting your lip hard. Your face was streaked with tears and snot. You dragged your sleeve over your nose and sniffled wetly, trying to regain some dignity. The attempt failed epically, as it only served to make you look more pitiful. 

“I…” You hesitated, and shook your head. You couldn’t believe yourself. You were clinging to one of the women you were in love with, ready to tell her whatever she asked. Ready to tell her that you were scared to be vulnerable and alone. That you were scared to be trapped again.

Wanda gave you a sad little smile and leaned forward to kiss your forehead. You froze automatically, your heart racing in your chest. Her lips were soft and warm, the kiss more tender than anything you’d ever felt. No one had ever cared for you like this and you didn’t know what to do. 

You could still feel the pressure of the kiss on your heated skin when she pulled away and reached up to caress your cheek. 

“You’ve got a pretty high fever, hun. Can we get you into bed?” She asked, voice impossibly gentle. You shook your head, not quite ready to explain that you didn’t want her to go and fearing that she’d leave as soon as you were situated in your bedroom. 

“Hey, no, don’t cry, I’m not leaving. How about the couch? Would that be better? I’ll bring out your favorite blanket and get you some juice, or gatorade or whatever you want. Come on, I’m not going anywhere. It’s alright.” She soothed, swiping the tears away with her knuckles. 

“Please don’t go away,” You begged, pressing yourself back against her. “T-tony locked my door…’scared me…” You admitted, worried that she wouldn’t understand. Instead of the confusion you expected, you saw rage. Pure, untethered rage. Her eyes glowed slightly red and you almost flinched away, afraid that she was mad at you. 

“No, no. Not you, never you.” She pushed your hair away from your forehead, doing everything she could to fix her mistake. “Come on Y/n, let's get you settled on the couch.” She wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you against her side. 

You dropped your head onto her shoulder and leaned heavily on her as the two of you walked to the couch. You were out of energy and you were now satisfied that she was safe. She’d never hurt you. 

“Alright sweetheart, Natasha’s going to be done soon and she’s going to sit with you while I make some soup. Sit down for me, you’re swaying.” She took your shoulders and eased you onto the couch, stopping to stroke your hair. 

“I’m going to get you some medicine. Just sit tight.” The brunette started to walk away but you snagged her hand, clinging to it tightly. 

“Stay with me, please…please,” Your desperate pleas absolutely broke Wanda's heart. She knew that she should get medicine for you, but you were just so miserable she couldn’t bear to leave you alone. 

“Hey, hey don’t cry, I’m here. I’m right here.” The mesmerizing woman sat beside you and without a second (or really a first) thought you curled up in her lap, sniffling and whimpering your misery. “Fri, can you get me Y/n’s temp?” She murmured, brushing a thumb across your heated check. 

“Ms. Y/n is currently running a temperature of 102.7, I recommend hydration and medication. I am also detecting a buildup of fluid in her lungs, causing difficulty breathing. I believe that she has contracted pneumonia, seemingly from ignoring a previous illness. She will require antibiotics.” FRIDAY said, eliciting a curse from Wanda. She wasn’t thrilled that you’d ignored your health. 

“My god, Y/n you’re an idiot. FRIDAY, get Natty up here. Tell her to bring Bruce.” You shook your head weakly, sniffling exhaustedly. A chesty cough wracked your body Wanda rubbed your back, trying to soothe the spasms. Breaths rattled though your lungs, harsh wheezes kept you from getting a deep gulp of air. 

“Hey, hey I need you to calm down,” She soothed, pulling you up in an effort to help you breathe. 

“C-can’t…Wanda!” You sobbed, terror blooming in your eyes.

“Okay, alright, change of plans. FRIDAY we’re meeting them in the Medbay. Baby girl, I know it's hard for you to breathe, but I promise that it’s all going to be okay. Sit up for me, sweetheart.” She pulled you up against your will, the petnames streaming out of her lips. You imagined this is what asthma felt like. Your chest was so tight and your body was fighting to cough up everything in your lungs. 

“That’s it, that’s it, come on lean on me.” Wanda had pulled you against her hip, using magic to keep from dropping you. It wasn’t that she was weak or you were heavy, but dragging dead weight is a difficult feat no matter the circumstance. 

“...’m sorry…” You forced out, dropping your head against Wanda’s shoulder. She rubbed your back as you climbed onto the elevator. Said elevator basically dropped the few floors to get you to the Medbay, although you didn’t feel the change of altitude. You loved the AI. 

“You’re doing amazing. You’re doing so, so well. Just keep breathing for me. We’re going to get those lungs opened up in just a few more minutes.” Wanda murmured, scooping you up into her arms. You curled yourself against her, leaning into her warmth. 

Only moments later the warmth left you. The body that had kept you safe was gone. You reached out for her, but your vision was starting to fade. There wasn’t enough oxygen getting to your brain. You couldn’t stay awake. 

“Hey, hey no keep your eyes open. Keep your damn eyes open!” A harsh voice ordered, helping you focus on the real world. “That’s it, eyes open. Look at me, okay? Focus here. Bruce is going to put something over your nose, okay? It’s going to feel claustrophobic but I need you to keep it on.” Natasha, it was Natasha. When’d she get here? Did you fall asleep?

“Only for a second love, but now you’re going to take a breath okay?” Bruce's face swam into your eyeline and you didn’t fight it as the mask was slipped over your face. You knew logically that you were safe but the claustrophobia took over and you tried to pull it off, panic growing. 

Your arms were pressed to your side forcing you to give in to the medicated air. You sobbed terrified, but your lungs were opening up, breathing was becoming easier. 

“There you go baby, there you go. Deep breaths for me. It's all okay.” Natasha soothed, releasing her hold on your arm. As it became easier to breathe you calmed down, your body forcing your mind to relax. 

“You’re doing so good, beautiful. This is going to help so much. We’ll get you feeling better in no time.” Wanda was stroking your hair, running long fingers through your matted locks. Now that you could breathe, you were struggling to stay awake. You were so tired. 

“Bruce, can you fix her?” The brunette inquired, shifting to stroke your fever hot cheek. You reached out and grabbed her hand, wanting her to hold you. 

“Yes,” Bruce sighed, sounding relieved. “She’ll need IV antibiotics and after this breathing treatment I’ll switch her to pure oxygen. Her lungs don’t sound great, but that’s to be expected. Pneumonia is a little tricky, but she should be okay.” He smiled gently at you and you returned it, grateful. 

“Tired…” You mumbled through the mask, basically asking if you could finally take a nap. Natasha leaned down to kiss your forehead, and you nearly melted. Two pretty women had kissed you today. If you’d been feeling even half decent, you might’ve been able to enjoy it better.

“Go to sleep, we’ll be right here.” She promised, reaching out to grab Wanda’s hand. The other woman nodded, looking a little tired herself. You’d sort of stressed her out. 

“Sorry…” 

“Shush, no apologies from you. Just rest, okay? We’ll make sure that everythings okay. Bruce is going to put an IV in which will help with that fever and you should be feeling better in no time.”  She reassured, allowing you to slip off into a dreamless sleep.

—

After about an hour Bruce decided that you were well enough to be moved back to your room, provided that the IV stayed in, as well as the oxygen mask. You were still virtually unconscious, but the women were beyond happy to bring you to your room. 

Natasha scooped you up in her arms while Wanda rolled your IV poll along with you. 

The gorgeous redhead placed you gently in your bed, smiling at the way you attempted to curl around her as she let you go. The moment she pulled away completely you let out a pitiful whine, reaching out at the loss of warmth. You wanted her back. 

“Tasha!” You mumbled in your sleep, threatening to wake up in your effort to get to her. 

“Aw, little baby.” She slipped her shoes off and crawled into the bed beside you, wrapping her arms around your shaking body. “Get in her Wands, she needs hugs.” Nat said, waving her over. The brunette grinned and laid down on your other side, grabbing your hand. You smiled tiredly and nuzzled into her neck. 

“Think we can keep her?” Natasha murmured, sitting up slightly so that she could see her girlfriend. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” Wanda replied, leaning over to kiss the spy. They'd talk about it tomorrow if you felt well enough to do so.

[esbee-daisy]

passing out, but it's not sudden. it's slow. it builds. the heavy cotton behind the eyelids and ears, conversation going muffled and eyes fluttering shut, struggling against the creeping unconsciousness. the shaky reaching out, the questioning noises, the grasping an arm for stability and missing, meeting the floor, dazed, disoriented, before the warm embrace of darkness encircles them and the shouts of their friends are no more than silence.

[esbee-daisy]

me: this is a background character who's in one scene, has two lines, and is completely irrelevant to the rest of the story. i am going to stop obsessing over what to name him and use the random name generator on behindthename.com. i am going to accept the first thing it gives me and move the fuck on.

behindthename.com:

[esbee-daisy]

“Peeta presses his hand up against the surface and I put my own up to meet it, as if I can feel him through the wall. I see his lips moving but I can’t hear him, can’t hear anything outside our wedge. I try to make out what he’s saying, but I can’t focus, so I just stare at his face, doing my best to hang onto my sanity - “. “I know it’s stopped when I feel Peeta’s hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and of the jungle…”

Catching Fire Chapter 24

[esbee-daisy]

I just need a character who's so exhausted/injured and so relieved to see a loved one and they go in for a hug and just crumple against the other person, passing out in their arms, that would fix me

[esbee-daisy]

Lexa smiling (only for Clarke)

[esbee-daisy]

Caretaker slipped their hand in Whumpee’s, watching through the bars of their cell as their teammates ran up to Whumper.

“It’s finally over. We’re free.”

“Free.” Whumpee echoed, swaying slightly. They stopped to rest their head on Caretaker’s shoulder, exhausted by the effort it took to even stand at the window.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do with your freedom?”

“I think I’m going to—” but Whumpee stopped, staring at something in the distance, just beyond Caretaker’s gaze.

“What? What is it?” Caretaker grabbed them, shaking their shoulders. “What do you see?”

“Whumper—” Whumpee managed to slur before their eyes rolled back and they collapsed to the floor.

[esbee-daisy]

[esbee-daisy]

Whumpee gets sick at work, and is driven home by their coworkers, who are more than a little concerned given whumpee's never been this vulnerable before. They talk amongst themselves, the driver occasionally glancing in the rear view mirror to check up on their friend, asleep across the back seats with their head on another coworker's lap, cheeks flushed with fever