#and then you all have to stand there waiting listening to the machine beeping and whirring as a piece of paper slowly exits his forearm

[54625]

So Fit can canonically take screenshots and print them out without a separate camera. As far as I'm aware, we don't have an in character explanation for this so I'm pitching the printer arm theory . a printer in his arm. he has a camera and a printer in his metal arm. get yourself a man who doubles as a printer

[loveinhawkins]

Steve doesn’t notice the answering machine for several weeks.

His time is split between the hospital and donating food and clothes; and when he’s not doing that, he’s helping put up missing posters for people’s loved ones.

It’s only when both Max and Eddie are discharged that he has a moment to even catch his breath—when, half-dozing on his feet, waiting for a microwave ready meal to heat up, he notices the blinking red light in the hallway.

He feels like he’s still in a dream when he presses ‘play’, hears his mother’s voice. There’s people talking in the background, the echoing, constant chatter of a hotel lobby. She’s laughing at something someone must have said before the answering machine kicked in.

She sounds… happy.

“Steve? Steve?” The rustle of the receiver getting briefly pressed to her blouse, a muffled, “Just a minute, hon, he might still pick up.” Then, clearer: “No, you must be out. All right, Steve, it was just to let you know that we’ll be home a little sooner than we—yes, I’m telling him, what do you think I’m doing?”

Steve’s thoroughly grateful that he’s listening to a message, and no response is required—can only stand there, jaw slack, at just how light his mother’s voice is.

“A couple of work things fell through,” she continues with a breeziness that probably means several major ‘things’ went disastrously wrong, work related or otherwise. But it doesn’t sound like she cares all that much; if anything, she sounds excited.

“So I thought we could—well, I don’t know how late we’ll be, but if you’re not too hungry, we could just order some pizza, lazy dinner? Plain cheese for you, right?” The distant ring of a bell on a counter. “Steve, darling, I know we haven’t been—” She cuts herself off with a sigh that’s gone too quickly for Steve to parse.

He hasn’t ordered a plain cheese pizza since he was 12 years old. But she’s trying, he thinks. She’s trying.

“Oh, we’re just checking out. What? No, I thought you had that bag. Oh, well, just—sorry, Steve, see you tonight. Love y—”

The message ends.

In a daze, Steve replays it once, twice—it’s on the third re-listen that he hears the mechanical voice intone what date the message was left.

See you tonight.

He inhales sharply just as the microwave beeps, and then he’s out the door, leaving the food to congeal.

-

He knows the route they would have taken. Plays it backwards in his head as he drives. Can see them in his mind’s eye taking the exit that leads into Hawkins—his mom berating his dad for not using his turn signal.

He finds the road. Stops. Gets out and presses his hand to the tarmac. He can feel it under his palm, like a scar.

The gates spread, at the end.

There’s no proof, nothing he can point to and say there, that’s what happened to them. Not a trace.

But he knows.

He knows.

-

“Okay, what’s up?” Eddie asks him three days later.

It’s almost funny, how little things have changed. Steve keeps waiting for a knock at the door, a just kidding! There’s no harried phone calls from their work, so they must have taken extended leave or—he doesn’t know.

He’s never going to know.

“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “Just thinking if the kids want popcorn now or later.”

Eddie’s suspicion melts away with a snort; it’s too easy. “Stupid question—the answer is always now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Second cupboard on your left, Munson, knock yourself out.”

“What am I, the maid?” But Eddie’s already reaching for the popcorn, opening the microwave door with a clunk, and then there’s an abrupt silence.

Steve realises why a second too late. “Shit, I—sorry, lemme just—”

He picks up the plastic tray full of mouldy pasta and throws it in the trash—feels a prickle of shame as he does so.

It’s stupid that this is the thing that makes his breathing catch. So fucking—senseless.

“Steve,” Eddie says haltingly, like he somehow knows this isn’t just about being absent-minded.

“Don’t,” Steve says.

He knows that’s practically a signed confession already. But Eddie nods and even cleans the damn microwave without a word of complaint. Because the popcorn still needs to be done, and the kids are waiting, and they’re pretending, Steve thinks.

They’re all just pretending.

-

He loses himself in washing up, makes the water run hot and doesn’t wear gloves, lets his skin scald. They’d all ordered pizza, and Steve had hidden every slice he’d taken, torn them all up and stuffed them into a napkin.

He stops when he comes to a large plate with a floral trim.

Would she have picked this one? he wonders. The pizza would’ve looked pretty, served up on that.

And then, as quickly as that thought came, another takes its place. How dare she? How dare she think that a fucking lazy dinner would fix everything? Did she think he’d just forgive her, forgive them both, just like that?

But she never got the chance. He’ll never get the chance to—

A sharp, stabbing pain. Steve turns off the faucet automatically, sees that the plate has smashed in the sink. A shard of china in his palm.

Eddie’s voice echoes in the hallway. “Um, I called Wheeler? Uh, Nancy. She—she took them all home.”

“Cool,” Steve says, voice tight.

He knows that Eddie has entered the kitchen when he hears a shocked hiss. “Dude, what the fuck? You’re bleeding, wait there, just—”

It’s not a deep cut, Steve thinks numbly. He doesn’t know why Eddie is worried. But he lets him fuss, lets him gently pry the remnants of the plate away, lets him wrap a bandage tightly.

“Hey,” Eddie says. His voice is soft. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it, ‘kay?”

Steve can’t look at him. Clenches his jaw.

“We will, you hear me, Harrington? I promise.”

Steve shakes his head. “Can’t fix—” he gets out before his throat closes up, and when he glances back, Eddie’s eyes are wide and fearful.

“What?” he says sharply, and he looks almost nauseous, like he suspects he’s about to be told that the monsters are back, that they have never even left. “What the fuck do you mean? You’ve got to tell me, man, just—”

Steve makes an anguished noise that feels like it comes from somewhere in his chest, and Eddie freezes. He considers Steve for a long moment.

“Okay,” he says, a wary placation. “Can you… um. Can you show me instead?”

Steve blinks. He flexes his hand, uncaring of the cut, and jerks his head to the hallway.

Eddie stares. Frowns. Then leaves.

He figures it out, of course he does. Steve just stands there, hears the click of the answering machine. He closes his eyes.

This is all that’s left; these are his scraps. A sigh he’ll never understand. An aborted, “I love you.” It had never come easily to her, but it had left her freely then.

Why?

A hand on his shoulder. Steve opens his eyes.

Eddie looks stricken. “Steve,” he whispers, then stops like he doesn’t have the words.

Steve can’t blame him. Neither does he.

“I didn’t—I didn’t know,” Eddie says. “Steve, I didn’t—”

“They were coming home,” Steve says stupidly, feels a bit like he’s twelve years old. “They were—Eddie. They were gonna come home.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, and it leaves him all in one breath. “Oh, Steve. C’mere.”

Steve falls against him, muffles something that’s half a cry, half a scream against his shoulder—and mourns the loss of a conversation he will never have.

[ninuwrites]

Everything and more|LH

summery: you and logan were sent on a mission which had a few good outcomes

warnings: fluff

a/n: soo here it is:33 PLEASE write me if you want a smut chapter thank you my loves💋 and english is not mu first language so please report any mistakes thank you🩷enjoy

———————————————————————————

you were bearly holding on. your energy was draining more and more every second and your whole body was in pain.

let’s just say you and logan were sent on a mission and it wasn’t going well.

you were supposed to rescue some kids from a lab but nobody prepared you for the number of guards and security in there.

the positive thing was that you were able to get every kid from there. well… except from one.

in the meantime logan was able to inform everyone that you are in the need of reinforcement to which charles replied that they’re almost there.

you were still trying to get through to the child but apparently they were keeping him in a special room which was a nightmare to get in.

“Y/N THEY’RE HERE LET’S GO!” logan screamed behind you.

“I’M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT THE KID!” you screamed back.

logan knew you wouldn’t give up. you went through a lot of losses just like he did. that was one of many other reasons you understood each other.

“go get him logan please.” you felt like you’ll give out any moment. you’re knees buckled but you could not stop fighting. not yet.

“y/n you’re…” he at least tried to stop you but you wouldn’t give him a chance.

“JUST GO.” you screamed and he knew better than not listen to you.

as he ran off you could barely stand and for a second you thought about dying.

but you couldn’t just yet. both until you knew that everyone was safe.

after what felt like forever logan suddenly appeared with a boy in his arms. you smiled softly and finally let go.

you were prepared for falling on to the hard ground but the fall never came. logan was fast enough to grab you. “hold on bub please, just a little more.” he whispered and kissed your forhead softly.

he held you and the boy and ran through the building entrance where a plane was waiting for you.

“is everyone safe?” he asked peter “take care of him for a sec will ya?” he gave him the boy and put you on a seat.

you had no energy to even open your eyes. you felt how logan took your hand and squeezed it.

“i’ve got you bub. always.” he said as you gave out.

—

you woke up to the sound of machine beeping over you. as you slowly opened your eyes, you saw hank and charles talking together and of course logan, standing beside the door, his eyes never leaving you.

you sat up and as yours eyes were getting used to the light logan was already walking to you.

both men stopped talking and looked at tour direction. “look who’s up.” charles smiled while hank came up to you and put off tubes that were on your body.

“i’ll talk to you about everything tomorrow y/n, rest for now.” charles simply said and went away, hank closely behind him.

you knew what you did wasn’t the best or the safest option and you were definitely get a lecture tomorrow from charles but you weren’t sorry for anything you did. everyone was safe and nobody died. win win situation.

you brought your attention back to logan who was looking at you the whole time. “you scared me bub, don’t do that again.” he caressed your cheek and helped you to stand up.

“how long have i been out?” you asked and slowly started to move forward, logans hand never leaving your back.

“three days princess.” you looked at him a bit shocked just because that never happened before.

“oh shit.” you replied

logan guided to his room. you just looked up at him with confusion all over your face.

“i’m not leaving you alone bub.” he answered while opening the door. after you entered he went to get you a shirt to wear.

“take a shower, if you need anything just shout i am here okay?” he said while he was handing you the shirt to which you just nodded.

you must admit, you loved soft logan. he doesn’t show often it but he cares so much. not just about you (well especially you) but about everyone as well. you adored this side of him.

you couldn’t really explain the relationship between you and logan. of course you could sense the attraction. everyone could but it was more than that. when he opened up to you about his feelings and about his past you knew that you definitely meant something to him.

you were scared to do a first move because you didn’t want to ruin the relationship you’ve built over the past year.

you stayed in the shower a bit longer than you usuallydo, let’s be honest, after three days and a miserable mission you just needed it.

when you got out, and put logans shirt on, that’s when you realised how big he is. the man is massive.

you opened the door and went over to the bed while logan was getting a drink. he DEFINITELY checked you out and finished his drink.

“everything alright bub?” he asked as he grabbed a pair of shorts and for the bathroom. you again just nodded as logan entered the bathroom.

this was something new for you. you couldn’t get enough of his reassuring questions and his gentle looks.

as you were thinking about how logan is treating you recently and if you would work as a couple you didn’t see logan enter the bedroom.

“watcha thinking about princess?” he disturbed you from your thoughts and you finally met his gaze. and maan were you speechless.

there he was standing, just in his shorts, his torso still covered in water and the veins on his hands standing out.

you were strike.

“cat got your tongue?” he asked with a smirked on his face. “just get here howlett.” you giggled, your cheeks red.

he just smiled back and joined you under the covers. as he was laying down he immediately grabbed you and cuddled his face into your neck.

“i thought that i was going to lose you.” he admitted quietly, “never do that again, understand?” he took your head into his hands and looked deeply into your eyes.

you didn’t know what to say, so you closed your eyes and kissed him. he eased to the kiss after a moment and your hands traveled to his hair.

he broke the kiss just to look at you again. he caressed you cheek and kissed you again, this time more passionate.

“wait.” he whispered. you looked at him, scared of what he was about to say.

“do you… do you really want this? want me?” he asked.

“logan, you’re everything and more.” you answered with a soft smile on your face.

logan didn’t need anything else and kissed you once again.

[zeroeightzeroone]

homesick - han jisung

love collection

genre: hurt/comfort

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none?

wc ~3.7k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

you miss your boyfriend–you miss him a lot.

how could you not?

all you have wanted to do for the past couple of weeks is throw your arms around jisung and hold him close. you want to keep your boyfriend so tightly against your chest that you're encapsulated by the warmth radiating off his body, the warmth that never fails to comfort you, resting your head against his chest to listen to how his heart beats in tandem with your own. you miss the physical closeness with jisung.

stray kids has been on tour since late april this year, and the last leg of the tour is expected to end early april next year. while that's quite a long time for the boys to be away, they'd be back in asia in late july and on a break until the tour kicks back up in early september. it's currently the beginning of july.

thankfully, you weren't taking any summer courses. through the grace of whatever higher power there is up there, you managed to convince your boss to let you work remotely so you could join jisung and the boys for two weeks during the japanese leg of their tour back at the beginning of june.

you loved watching jisung perform. seeing him firsthand from the crowd, in his element when he's on stage, performing his art and perfecting his craft, makes your heart lurch; you fall for the man all over again, watching him up there. seeing it firsthand is completely different from watching videos of him–you can feel the energy radiating off him when he's up there.

at the end of those two weeks, you and the boys ended up in the same place: the airport. you were boarding a plane back to seoul, and they were boarding a plane to their first tour stop in america. due to the influx of reporters and fans waiting at narita international airport, your goodbyes to the boys and their staff had to be in the hotel, inside your rooms, hours before checkout time.

knock, knock, knock.

"come in!" you call whoever is on the other side of the door; if it's any of the boys, then they will be accompanied by jisung, who has the extra room key for your room.

you grunt in a squatting position as you move your luggage from laying on the ground, on its back, to standing upright on its wheels. you hear the keycard machine beep from the other side of the door in confirmation as you're hunched over, wheeling your luggage up against the wall before standing up straight and rubbing your palms against your jeans. you watch as the front door opens to reveal the eight boys, jisung in front, holding the keycard to your hotel room. behind them, the managers and some guards come into the room with them, but the bodyguards stay outside.

"y/n!" felix whines with a pout as he pushes forward, running to you and enveloping you in his arms, "fly safe, okay?"

you pat the freckled boy's back appreciatively as you nod.

"make sure you text ji when you land, okay?"

"i will, but you guys will still be in the air when he gets that message."

felix pulls away, his hands on your shoulders as he looks at you, "still, it's the thought that counts." you smile and giggle at felix, who moves aside for the next couple of members to say their goodbyes to you.

your exchanges with jeongin, minho and changbin are on the shorter side; brief hugs with jeongin and changbin, who thank you for coming to support them in concert, meanwhile minho gives you a half hug and pats your head as he bids you farewell, thanking you for taking two weeks out of the many months jisung will spend talking about how much he'll miss you.

meanwhile, hyunjin, chan and seungmin's hugs last a little longer when you're swayed around a little bit and told to be safe, get a lot of rest on the plane and not miss them too much. chan lets you know that if there is any other time you're going to be free when they're on tour, let them know, and they'll arrange everything for you–from the plane tickets to where you're staying–anything at all.

seungmin, the member you're closest to after your boyfriend, whispers in your ear quietly to ensure it's kept between the two of you: "i know you're going to ask me to take care of jisung for you, so don't worry about that. don't worry about hannie; we all got him."

the reassurance brings a smile to your face, and your grip on seungmin gets tighter in appreciation. the boy sways your bodies back and forth, patting your back when you separate. when he pulls away, he steps aside to reveal your boyfriend standing there with a pout, his big, brown eyes glossy as tears build up at his waterline. you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing.

you were already feeling on the verge of tears when felix came rushing in and pulled you into a hug. chan's words about arranging anything and everything if you're free, then seungmin assuring you that they'll look out for your boyfriend while on tour and now, here's your boyfriend, your hannie, your jisung, looking at you with teary eyes.

you open your arms and jisung runs into them, prompting you to take a step back at the sudden impact, but jisung's tight grip around your waist protects you from any chance of falling backward. jisung buries his face in the crook of your neck while your arms are wrapped around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder as your eyes are squeezed shut. your grip on each other is tight, knowing that once either of you lets go, the next time you'll be in each other's arms is in two months.

jisung lets a choked whimper slip out that he tries to hide with a cough. you smack his back gently, "ya!"

you clear your throat, trying your best to stay composed and stern as you utter the next words.

"if you cry, i'm going to cry too!" your voice cracks and trembles as you speak.

"i'm not crying," he denies. though his voice is muffled from his head buried in the crook of your neck, you can clearly hear that it's softer than usual, shaky, and uneasy.

you let out a pained laugh, "liar." the tears flow down your cheeks as you hold him even tighter.

"i'm not lying!" jisung continues to deny. he lifts his head up from your neck, and you stand there, still in each other's arms, looking at each other, "see."

what you see is how jisung's cheeks are flushed, wet with tears that probably fell and landed on the fabric of the hoodie you're wearing, his lashes clumped together with tears as he tries to keep his lips pursed together when they're trembling and threatening to go back to that pout. on the other hand, your tears are freely falling as you stare up at your boyfriend through your fluttering lids, mouth opening and closing as you breathe heavily through your pouted lips, cheeks also flushed and damp. you smack his chest.

"what?" he whines.

you open your mouth to laugh at him, but instead, a sob comes out. you fall back into his arms and bury your face into his chest as you cry.

"look who's crying now," jisung retorts as his arms move around your body again, holding you close. one hand rests on the small of your back while the other caresses your hair.

"yeah, the both of you," minho teases and jisung glares at the boy, but the older one just smiles back.

the rest of the boys watch the exchange between you and jisung with a slight ache in their chests as they remember how hard it was to say goodbye to their friends and family before leaving. chan looks around and he gathers everyone to leave, wanting to give you and jisung a minute alone to say your goodbyes before the driver takes you to the airport.

pulling away, jisung moves his hands to your face and brushes your hair back, some strands sticking to your skin because of tears as you hiccup. even when your hair is out of your face, he continues to stroke your hair back while the other hand is on your cheek, gently caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb. the two of you stare up at each other, sniffling.

"i love you," jisung whispers, his voice hoarse from crying.

you nod, sniffling and hiccuping in return, "i love you too."

jisung smiles down at you, "hey, i'll be back before you know it."

your eyelids flutter as you blink quickly, and your hands play with the back of the sweatshirt jisung is wearing.

"i'll text you everyday," he reminds, "i'll call you as much as i can, and as much our schedules and the time zones allow for."

you sigh shakily, "i'm gonna miss you so much."

"i'm going to miss you so much too, my love," jisung brushes your hair back again, "god, i wish i could just take you with me. two months away from you? that's too long."

you snicker, nodding in agreement, "i do too. but hey, i'll get to see so many videos of you taken by stay, doing your thing on stage."

your boyfriend smiles, gazing down at you lovingly.

"i'm so proud of you. look at you," you sigh, lips curled up in a smile, "my boyfriend is going on a world tour."

"do you know what that means?" you tilt your head in confusion, "souvenirs from every stop that remind me of you!"

since he left, both of you have been sending texts daily and video calls whenever your schedules permit it and when the time zones line up enough so it isn't too early or too late for either of you.

sometimes your calls only prompt you to miss jisung even more, wishing he was next to you and that his voice wasn't just coming through a device while he's on the other side of the world, but the distance also means you continue to long for the day jisung comes home. you know his parents long for that day as well, his mother sending you texts every couple of days asking when you're free so you can go out together. as jisung likes to put it–spending time with her future daughter-in-law.

however, as the number of days away from jisung increases, the number of days before jisung returns also decreases. with that in mind, you try to stay positive and look forward to the day he comes home.

now that the boys are in america, they've been quite busy rehearsing, checking and then rechecking their formations and any technical details that could go wrong during the concerts, the process repeating at each venue as they sync up their equipment with the new venues. their team organizing and making sure everything is okay with the venue and other organizers. as a result, jisung has been too busy to call late at night as he passes out the moment he's in his hotel room from the venue, then waking up a couple hours later to hop on a flight to the next destination.

he sends you texts here and there throughout his day, sending random photos of himself and the members during rehearsals or before and after the show. on jisung's end, he sent a text over when he landed early in the morning, saying he could probably hop on a call quickly when he gets to the hotel, seeing as they're going to be in inglewood for a little over a week for two shows instead of one. you were about to leave work when the message came through. going home for the evening when the message reminded you of your phone call with jisung's mother.

"hello, eomeonim (mother-in-law)," you greet when the line connects.

"y/n, myeoneuri (daughter-in-law)," she speaks into the phone, her tone sweet as usual. she doesn't say anything for a moment before speaking, "is this a bad time? you don't sound like you're at home?"

"ah, sorry eomeonim," you apologize, "i just got off the bus, but i'm on the way home now. but don't worry, i can talk if you need me."

"ah okay, i won't keep you too long then, myeoneuri," she assures before continuing, "have you spoken to jisung on the phone recently?"

you hum as you think, "I think it's been a couple of days since our last phone call; why? is he okay?"

you hear jisung's mother sigh on the other end of the line, "i'm a little worried, if i'm honest," you hum in acknowledgment and she continues, "he sounded quite down on our phone call yesterday and the day before. he told me not to worry when i asked… i know this might be a lot, but would you mind talking to him? if it's you, he'll open up more–at least, he'll have talked about what's on his mind."

"yeah, yeah, of course," you agree, "i'll see if we can call tonight, and i'll check up on him, see how he's doing, eomeonim. don't worry too much, i'm sure ji is okay!"

she chuckles on the other end, "ah, you sound just like him, y/n. don't tell him i sent you!"

you laugh in response to her rushed addition at the end of her statement: "i won't say anything," she sighs in relief, "was there anything else you were curious about?"

she hums, "nothing else, thank you so much, myeoneuri. i'll see you on the weekend, okay? come over whenever you want! the door is always open for you!"

your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you smile, "thank you, i'll see you in a couple of days. bye eomeonim!"

"goodbye, myeoneuri! get home safely. i love you," she bids her farewells, which you exchange right back with her before she hangs up the call.

thinking back to that conversation, you wonder what worried jisung's mother about him; was it how he spoke? his tone? the words he used? was he quite active in the conversation, or did he seem more passive? you wonder what exactly she meant by jisung sounding quite down, but you guess you'll figure it out when he calls you in the morning.

it's around eight in the morning when your phone rings from the bedside table. yunjin should already be awake and ready for work, so the ringer volume doesn't wake anyone up except you. you roll around, feeling around the bedside table for the device. you accept his call quickly and place the phone to your ear.

a deep yawn leaves your lips before you say, "ji baby?"

you hear him hum in acknowledgment on the other end before he replies, "yeah, baby, it's me." a sleepy smile forms on your lips at the sound of his voice. " did I wake you?"

you groan softly as you flick the lamp on, the sudden brightness causing you to squint, "yes but i don't mind. i just wanna hear your voice. are you back at the hotel now?"

"yeah, we got back a while ago. i just wanted to be ready for bed before calling; this way i can fall asleep while you're on the line," jisung explains, and you feel your cheeks heat up at his sentiments.

he continues to talk about what they did today. you're gradually more awake and more attentive as the minutes pass, so eventually, you realize what jisung's mother was referring to when it sounded like he's been down. jisung is speaking monotone, his voice softer, and when he speaks, it sounds like his mind is elsewhere.

when he's finished, you decide to segway into that conversation, "how are you feeling?"

he pauses for a moment, taken aback before he shrugs, "i'm tired, it's been a long day of rehearsal. what about you? how are you feeling?"

"i'm doing good, i'm hearing your voice, so i'm doing great," you answer quickly before he tries to shift the conversation to you, "are you physically tired or?"

jisung is lying in bed as he speaks to you, looking up at the ceiling and thinking of his replies, "yeah. dancing and all."

"emotionally?"

"emotionally?" he repeats to which you confirm, "i mean… i'm okay–better now since i'm hearing your voice after a couple of days… it's been a busy last couple of days."

you nod, running a hand through your tangled hair as you listen to jisung on the other end. his tone is still distracted as his words graze over how he's feeling, avoiding delving deeper into it. realizing that maybe he isn't ready to delve deeper into his emotions, you allow him to shift the conversation to your life and what you've been up to while he's been on tour–asking you how work has been and if anything new has occurred. you answer jisung honestly; there is nothing new at work as it's the same job you've had since getting into university; the only new events would be the lunch you have on the weekend with jisung's mother, aunt and grandmother.

the latter part of your updates brings a smile to jisung's lips, his heart warming at the thought of the most important women in his life spending quality time together. but at the same time, hearing your updates about your life back at home, no matter how small you think they are or if they're the same things that always happen, has jisung's chest aching in a completely different way.

"ji?" you call, not hearing anything coming from his end, "did you fall asleep?" you pause to listen, to survey whether or not you hear soft snores or heavy breathing that indicate that he is indeed asleep.

instead, jisung responds after a couple of moments, "i'm still here. i'm awake."

"are you okay?" you wonder, "if you're tired then i can go–"

"no, don't go," he quickly interrupts, "sorry."

"don't apologize, i just wanna make sure you're okay," you reassure, and you hear him hum in acknowledgment.

"i miss you," he declares softly, his voice solemn as he speaks.

"i miss you too, ji," you sigh, instinctively clutching the pillow closer to your chest.

the boy on the other end ponders for a moment before continuing, "i miss you a lot. i don't really know how to explain it," jisung blinks up at the ceiling, "i miss you all the time, but when we get back to the hotel or when i'm not performing, i miss you even more."

jisung's eyebrows knit in frustration as he continues to explain himself.

"i love being on stage, i love performing," he states, "i can't explain how i feel when i'm performing either, but… there's a feeling of contentment or fullness? i don't know… i just know i love to be up there. but…"

"but?" you encourage him to continue as his words trail off.

"but when i get back to the hotel, or when it's all over, i feel tired: the adrenaline doesn't last as long as it usually does. but even though i'm tired, it's hard to fall asleep."

you aren't sure where to place jisung's words, unsure if you've ever felt the way he's been feeling lately, uncertain if you can relate, but at the least, you want to understand and reassure him that you're there.

"there's a feeling of emptiness that kinda just sits there when i'm not on stage," his voice is softer when he says the word 'emptiness' like it's a fragile word, one he's unsure of, "i wasn't sure what it was before but listening to you talk started to help me realize what caused the emptiness."

"something i said helped you realize?" you repeat for clarification.

"yeah, listening to you talk about home, work, the local cafes, the conversations you have with my mom–just everything about your life at home," jisung lists, "i'm feeling homesick."

your lips part in awe when the last word leaves his mouth, the singular word allowing you to reconceptualize what he said previously and gain a greater understanding.

"i tried my best to distract myself and rehearse more to combat those feelings of emptiness but nothing seemed to work; it just stuck there. listening to you helped combat some of my homesickness but…"

"but it's still there," you finish his sentence, and he agrees with a sigh.

"i love being onstage, i feel so alive when i'm up there," now, when jisung speaks, his tone is clearer, and his thoughts are clearer, the way he's speaking signalling that instead of being lost in his own thoughts he's got both feet on the ground and he's working through them, "but i miss home so much. god… i miss you so damn much."

you smile sadly when you hear him sniffle.

"i miss my bed at the dorms, the air fryer at the dorms that we don't even use. i miss the smell of your laundry detergent and shampoo, i miss being in your arms, and you playing with my hair. i miss being at home."

jisung cries softly as he speaks, sniffling and continuing to list off the things that he misses at home. it brings tears to your eyes; using your comforter to dab the tears off your face.

"hey…" you call into the phone, "would it help if i sent little voice messages throughout the day so you could hear my voice? i can send pictures of things you love here too? just a couple more weeks, and you'll be here, and i'll hold you so tightly you get sick of me."

"i'll never be sick of being in your arms," he remarks, "and if it isn't too much, i would love that, all of it." jisung smiles at your suggestions, appreciative of you and your ideas to help him combat his homesickness until he's back in seoul.

"i'll try my best."

"baby?" he coos, prompting a soft response from you, "do you think we can video call? i wanna see your face before i sleep. can you stay until i fall asleep?"

your cheeks heat up from your boyfriend's suggestion, and your heart feels giddy at seeing his face for a couple of minutes before he falls asleep. " of course, baby."

[cyraclove]

Happy Sunday, have a little hellcheer thing that I needed to evict from my brain:

Eddie is ten years old. He wakes up around the same time he usually does on Saturday mornings and shuffles into the bathroom, bleary-eyed and barefooted.

It’s quiet this morning. There’s no coffee maker gurgling, no newspaper rustling. He doesn’t hear the muffled sound of a newscaster droning on about the weather. That’s weird.

As he runs his toothbrush under the faucet, Eddie thinks back to the night before. His dad had come home late, tearing through the house looking for something. His words were slushy as he stumbled around, muttering something about a suitcase.

Eddie had watched him for a while until he tired himself out and slumped into his armchair like he usually did. He’d still be there in the morning, wearing the same clothes as the night before.

He isn’t, though. Not this morning.

Furrowing his brow, Eddie pokes his head into his father’s room. The bed’s empty, still made.

“Dad?”

There’s no answer, just the soft clink and whir of the ceiling fan above him.

Eddie walks out and into the kitchen, a strange tightness in his chest. Sunlight streams in through the window above the kitchen sink, but there’s not a single light on. Nearly all of the cabinet doors have been left open.

A rusted, red Folgers coffee can lays toppled over on the counter. There are two quarters on the floor right beneath it. Fifty cents, Eddie thinks to himself. Two more and he’d have a whole dollar.

The front door creaks open and Eddie startles, whipping his head toward the sound.

“Dad?”

It’s not his dad. A tall, graying man with a sad, weary smile stands in the doorway. Eddie recognizes him from pictures and a couple of Christmases. He looks older than the last time he’d seen him.

“Uncle Wayne?”

Wayne sighs as he crosses the room toward Eddie. His eyes are wet as he looks down at him. “Hey, kiddo,” he says softly. “Still in your jammies, huh?”

Something icky gurgles in the pit of Eddie’s stomach, the same feeling he gets when he knows he’s done something to make his father mad. This isn’t right.

“Where’s dad?”

Eddie sees Wayne wince, swallowing hard. He pauses, like he’s not sure what to say. “Listen, Ed—“

Before Wayne can finish, Eddie darts past him and all but crashes into the screen door, running out onto the deck. The wood is gritty and wet from the rain the night before. His father’s truck is gone.

Eddie’s face is hot and his eyes sting as he looks around. There’s no one outside but him.

“Dad?”

The wind whines through the trees.

“Dad?”

A dog barks from behind the fence next door.

“Dad?”

Eddie swivels toward the unfamiliar voice, gentle and kind. Machines beep and hum in the background as he stands next to a hospital bed, his clammy hand wrapped tightly around the plastic bedrail.

A nurse in a papery yellow gown smiles up at him as she cradles a snugly swaddled, ruddy-faced newborn.

Eddie’s throat is thick. His voice sounds all croaky when he speaks. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” the nurse chuckles. “You ready to meet your boy?”

The air leaves Eddie’s lungs when the baby is placed gently in his arms, a wiggly, fussy little thing that can’t possibly weigh any more than a dictionary. He’s soft and warm and staring right up at Eddie with big, pale blue eyes.

Eddie turns to Chrissy, laying in the hospital bed looking breathless and beautiful. She’s sweaty and starlit and beaming at him, her lashes glittery and damp.

“A boy?” he asks her. They’d waited to find out. “Did she say boy?”

Chrissy nods, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Yesterday’s mascara smears her cheek as she gives him a sniffly smile.

The mattress dips as Eddie gingerly sits on the edge of the bed next to Chrissy, her hand resting on his thigh. She’s all wires and medical tape and hospital bracelets. She’s amazing.

He stares down at the little boy nestled into the crook of his arm, at their son. Chrissy leans her head on his shoulder and his heart feels too big for his ribcage.

“Hey, kiddo,” he murmurs. “Happy birthday.”

[ghoulangerlee]

every breath, a second chance ; gen ; Mountain/Phantom

Phantom hums, somewhat nonsensically, reaches out with his other hand towards the edge of the bed, settles it palm upwards and wiggles his fingers in Mountain’s direction.   There’s a soft laugh, the shifting of the upholstered chair and then Mountain’s hand is in his, cradling it so gently. “I’m glad you’re doing okay,” he admits softly, brushing his thumb over the lines in Phantom’s palm, “Had me worried for a bit there, you were in so much pain.”  

notes: this was written for @sexy-sea-basss and shared with permission :') CWs for this are that a decent portion of this fic takes place in the infirmary, Phantom is recovering from an emergency procedure, and this fic is about that explicitly; there's not much in the way of graphic descriptions of his wound/the procedure itself but if there's anything else I need to warn for just lemme know :) This is mostly fluff and Mountain taking care of Phantom. Also, I typically use Aeon for the new guy but the request specifically called him Phantom so I used Phantom haha.

wordcount: 7,807

-----

Waking up had been a slow process—first the awareness of his own body, solid and there, though his thoughts were still muddled as far as the why of it all. The sound had been the next thing to come back to him, nothing loud and sudden, but a trickle of noise—the sound of his own breathing, the soft and steady beep of a machine.  

Then came the feeling; his fingers and toes wiggling somewhat carefully, fighting off the heaviness of sleep and unconsciousness—there was a sort of negative space when he really focused on his abdomen, like there was something there keeping him from feeling it.  

He lifts a hand, feels the pull of something as he moves it, sleepily resting it against his side. There’s a scratchiness under his touch, the rough feeling of whatever it is that he’s wearing; it’s thin though, he realizes as he pulls it between two fingers, able to feel the heat of his own fingertips through the material.  

“Hey there bug,” Mountain’s voice is soft, careful, barely above a whisper and oh so nice to hear after so long of just nothing.  

Phantom opens his eyes slowly, lashes fluttering a few times before they finally, finally part to reveal his somewhat hazy mismatched stare; pale green and soft lilac-colored eyes finally taking in the private infirmary room.  

The curtains have been pulled aside to let natural light into the room, in place of the harsher LEDs affixed to the ceiling, the sun warming the entire area it touches, including the lower third of the bed Phantom’s sleeping on.  

“…happened to me?” he manages to mumble out through dry lips, eyes tracking Mountain’s movements as the earth ghoul stands and comes closer to the bed—even closer now, Phantom can see he’s holding a cup with a straw.  

“Emergency procedure,” Mountain says easily as he leans over, holding the cup out and guiding the straw to Phantom’s mouth. “Slow sips,” he warns, and then, “Magical buildup is a nasty thing, Aether had it happen to him once, even Omega, the unfortunate side effects of being made up of both life and death.”  

Phantom listens, sipping carefully at the straw as cool water infused with something not quite human pools in his mouth, trickles down his throat—he’s grateful for it. Thankful for the crisp cleanness of the taste. Refreshed.  

“I feel so heavy,” Phantom says with a soft groan, eyes fluttering closed again as he lets the straw fall away from his mouth. “Did they get it all out though? The buildup?”  

Mountain carefully pulls his chair closer to the bed and sits back down, cradling the comically small cup in his large hands. “No more buildup.” He assures with a smile, “The surgery was quick, and you’ve been out for about two hours now. We were just waiting on you to wake up.”  

Phantom hums, somewhat nonsensically, reaches out with his other hand towards the edge of the bed, settles it palm upwards and wiggles his fingers in Mountain’s direction.  

There’s a soft laugh, the shifting of the upholstered chair and then Mountain’s hand is in his, cradling it so gently. “I’m glad you’re doing okay,” he admits softly, brushing his thumb over the lines in Phantom’s palm, “Had me worried for a bit there, you were in so much pain.”  

Turning his head on the pillow so he’s facing Mountain, he slowly opens his eyes, blinking sleepily at him, “Don’t remember the pain now,” he mumbles with a sort of dopey smile. “Glad you’re here though.”  

Mountain’s thumb traces slowly over Phantom’s life line, watching him with a sort of melancholy look, “The pain medicine should keep you feeling like this for a bit,” he murmurs, “Once it wears off, you may have some pain in your abdomen. No using your own magic to keep the pain at bay,” he says, gently pressing his thumb into the end of Phantom’s life line, in the soft area between his thumb and pointer finger.  

Phantom yawns, wide enough for his jaw to tense and then blinks slowly at Mountain, “Hey, big guy, are you okay?” he asks, he almost goes to push himself up to be closer to the earth ghoul but remembers at the last moment that that would be a terrible idea.  

“Seeing you here,” Mountain says slowly, a weak smile on his face, “I can see that you’re awake, I can feel that you’re fine, but telling my brain that is another completely different thing.”  

“I’m fine,” Phantom says, eyes half closed now, and clumsily, he shifts his hand around until he can lace his fingers through Mountain’s pressing their palms together tightly. “Feel me?” 

Mountain stares down at their hands clasped together, feels the roughness of Phantom’s palm against his—and like this he can also feel the beating of his pulse, strong and steady even after everything from these past few days.  

“Helps, doesn’t it?” Phantom asks, his voice taking on a sort of faraway tone as he yawns again, “Feeling my heartbeat.” He closes his eyes finally and smiles, soft and gentle and sweet, “When I get out of here, you can sleep with your head on my chest anytime you start feeling sad again.”  

Adoration is the only thing Mountain can think of as he pushes the feelings through their bond, squeezing Phantom’s hand softly, making the quintessence ghoul purr.  

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you.” Mountain says with a little laugh, hoping he doesn’t sound as choked up as he feels and when Phantom’s eye cracks open, the lilac colored one that carries the swirling galaxies of eternity in it, he finds himself unable to look away.  

“It’s a lot to see someone in pain,” he murmurs with a soft smile. “You’re going to take care of me just fine, lil Spruce.”  

And then, he drifts off to sleep, still holding tightly to Mountain’s hand.  

- 

The next time he awakens, he can hear the gentle murmur of conversation, can sense Mountain and at the fringes of it all, Omega. He can’t quite make out what they’re talking about exactly, but he knows it’s about him specifically.  

“If you’re going to talk about me, at least do it outside of my room,” he says, voice less scratchy than last time, but no less dry—his tongue thick in his mouth as he blinks sleepily, but less fuzzy than before.  

Mountain’s by his side within a few steps, procuring the cup and straw from earlier for Phantom to drink from.  

Omega follows at a more sedate pace, though the erratic twitching of his tail gives away his eagerness—he comes to stand at Phantom’s other side, opposite of Mountain, “How are you feeling?” he asks as he reaches out and presses his fingertips into the softness of Phantom’s wrist, feeling for his pulse.  

“Less like I’m going to blow up,” Phantom says cheekily as he leans away from the cup and straw, “Overall, better than how I felt before I ended up in here.”  

Omega hums softly, letting go of Phantom’s wrist and carefully lifting the blanket up and that’s when Phantom notices he’s wearing a breakaway gown that has neatly tied knots going down his left side, “I don’t know if blow up would have been an accurate assumption of what would have happened to you if the buildup had been left untreated for much longer,” he says, tugging loose two of the ties situated near his abdomen, “I’m just going to check the dressing on this, “You should be good to head back to your own room either later tonight or tomorrow. I’ll come back in a little bit and check in again and we’ll go from there.”  

Phantom nods, enraptured as Omega carefully peels away the bandage covering his side; the wound isn’t as large as he expected, no longer than maybe a crayon, stitched neatly together with black stitching. There’s dried blood around the wound, but other than that it seems...lackluster in a way.  

“Not what you were expecting?” Omega asks, amused, as if he could sense Phantom’s thoughts. “We tried to be as minimally invasive as possible.  

Phantom hums nonsensically, shrugging his shoulders, “Feels like it’s too small to have me feeling like half of my body weight is just dead.”  

Omega turns away long enough to grab a pair of gloves and pull them on, carefully prodding at the area with a gentle touch for a few moments before pulling back, satisfied, “One thing you’ll find here on the surface is that everything is worse with these vessels.” he says, “Wounds that heal within a few days in the Pit takes weeks here,” he says it gently, “This is your first major injury topside, right?”  

Phantom looks away from the neat line of stitches keeping his skin closed and over to Omega, who had moved to the sink to wash his hands and dispose of his gloves, “It is,” he says, a little frown on his face, watching the other ghoul now gather a couple of bandages and some tape, a new pair of gloves.  

“Would have been nicer to ease you into being injured up here, but things happen,” Omega says with a little shrug, placing the supplies down and pulling the new gloves on. “But, you’ve got a great pack and Mountain here will make sure you’re fully taken care of.” He smiles at Phantom in a way that he hopes is comforting.  

And it is, knowing that, despite it taking longer for him to heal up here, he’ll at least be in better hands than he would have been in the Pit.   

“Thanks Omega,” he says, glancing down at where the other ghoul is taping a new bandage over his stitches.  

Pressing down over the edges of tape one last time to make sure it’s firmly over Phantom’s skin, he hums and steps back, gathering up his trash, “I’ll leave you two to it. Like I mentioned earlier, I’ll be by later to check on you and we’ll see if we can discharge you tonight.”  

- 

It's nothing short of a miracle that the small room he’s in can fit the entire pack, all of them crowded together, checking in on him, Mountain shoved off to the side, towards the back, a content smile on his face as he watches everyone fawn over Phantom. The girls taking turns braiding flowers into his hair, Dew and Aether keeping him up to date on all the things he’d missed while being in here (not much, but Dew’s insistent that he knows of Copia’s blunder during a sermon, the silence in the room palpable as he stumbles over words trying to find his pace. And it hurts to laugh, Phantom finds out unfortunately. The action tensing his muscles and pulling painfully at his stitches.)  

Swiss sneaks in food that’s definitely not approved for someone who’s just gotten out of surgery, but no one stops Phantom from taking a bite out of the burger that Swiss had placed in front of him.  

Again, instant regret, but worth it all for the taste.  

At some point, everyone files out of the room, around the time Phantom’s eyes start to droop again, well wishes and comforting touches being bestowed upon him as each of his pack takes time with him—low spoken words and in both Rain and Aether’s case, a gentle brush of magic to help with the healing and when there’s only Mountain left in the room, Phantom reaches out with his hand, wiggling his fingers in the taller ghoul’s direction.  

Mountain goes easily, crossing the room and taking a seat in the chair beside the bed once more. It’s not comfortable, but he deals with it, confident that soon he’ll be able to have Phantom in their nest once more.  

“Sleepy?” Mountain asks as he takes Phantom’s hand in his, brushing the pad of his thumb across the back of it with slow, careful sweeps.  

Phantom just hums, “I am, but I’d rather you be here in the bed with me than sitting beside it,” he admits with a yawn, eyes fluttering shut as he squeezes at Mountain’s hand. “Would rather hold you than your hand.”  

Mountain laughs softly, shaking his head, “Bed’s not big enough,” he says, “We’ll be in our nest soon, don’t worry. For now, you must endure holding my hand.”  

Phantom opens his eyes long enough to roll them at Mountain before they close again, another yawn leaving him, “You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”  

Squeezing his hand gently, Mountain scoots as close to the bed as his long legs will allow him, knees pressed harshly against the metal frame, “I’ll be right here,” he promises softly, reaching out with his free hand to gently brush the hair from Phantom’s face, drawing a soft and contented purr from the ghoul.  

- 

The next time Phantom wakes up, he feels the soft press of Mountain’s lips to his forehead, between his horns, murmuring lowly to him. 

“Hm?” he mumbles sleepily, blinking his eyes open a few times—the room is dark except for the lights coming from the monitor he’s connected to and when he blinks a few times and his eyes adjust to the darkness, he can see a wheelchair sitting across the room near the door.  

“Hey there Bug,” Mountain murmurs, fond and soft, “Sorry to wake you, but I figured you’d rather sleep somewhere more comfortable than here tonight,” he keeps his voice low, head bowed so he can press his forehead against Phantom’s. “Maybe let you hold something other than just my hand.”  

A sappy sort of smile crosses Phantom’s face, he’s tired, but he’s also tired of sleeping alone again, tired of not being able to hold Mountain like he’s accustomed to. “I’ve been discharged?” he asks, somewhat hopeful.  

Mountain hums in response, staying close only for a moment longer before pulling back, “They removed the IV and unhooked everything else while you were sleeping,” he says, nodding towards the bandage on Phantom’s arm, the blood pressure cuff now resting across the railing instead of around his bicep. “Soon as we get you out of bed, you’re free to go.”  

Phantom reaches out towards Mountain with both arms, hooking them around his shoulders now that he’s able to move them more freely—it pulls painfully at his side for a moment, but he shifts a bit and Mountain seems to understand what he wants and moves closer, letting the quintessence ghoul guide him close, closer until their lips press together.  

It’s soft and chaste, just enough of something that makes Phantom feel warm and happy inside and when he pulls back, Mountain’s watching him with a fond look, “Please get me out of this bed and this room,” he says, “The horrible antiseptic scent is going to drive me up the wall if I’m here any longer.”  

Mountain laughs at that, carefully lowers Phantom’s arms and stands up properly, “Omega ordered another round of IV meds right after he mentioned discharging you, so you shouldn’t be feeling too much pain right now,” he says as he moves to pull the wheelchair closer, “But we’ll go at your pace, as slow as you need to get you from the bed to the chair.”  

Phantom nods, makes to shift around and he doesn’t feel pain, but he can feel when his stitches pull, reminding him that he needs to be as careful as possible when moving.  

Mountain’s back by his side shortly after, one of his hands sliding under his back to guide him upwards—and the pull us less annoying now, still there in the back of his mind, but Mountain is careful, gentle and together they get him into a proper sitting position.  

Phantom bites his lower lip when Mountain goes to guide him towards the edge of the bed, wondering if he could just ask the earth ghoul to pick him up and make things easier for him. He knows that he’ll need to stand and sit and walk around on his own at some point, but everything right now just feels daunting.   “Are you alright?” Mountain asks, drawing him from his thoughts; they’ve stopped moving now, Mountain still hovering close but he’s no longer trying to guide him towards the edge of the bed anymore.  

“I just. Is it normal to be nervous to move around after something like this?” Phantom finds himself asking, for as much as he’s able to internalize a lot of things, keep things to himself if he feels like he’s being too annoying he’s never been able to do that around Mountain. “I. What if the stitches open? What if I do something and make it all worse?”  

Mountain pulls away, just enough so he can kneel on the floor by the bed, resting his hands on Phantom’s thighs, “It’s very normal to be nervous after an injury,” he says softly, patiently, “The recovery part of it all, especially on the surface where our magic isn’t as strong as it could be, it’s very daunting.” He smiles up at Phantom, “But I won’t let anything bad happen to you. We’ll get you out of here and to the nest and I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re comfortable. You won’t have to lift a finger.”  

Phantom’s hands reach down, cupping Mountain’s face, thumbs brushing across the curves of his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose as he stares down into Mountain’s eyes—he feels grateful for this, to have such a caring partner, someone who’d willingly drop everything to take care of him.  

“I know you won’t,” Phantom murmurs, and then he squeezes his eyes closed at the sudden onslaught of emotion that overtakes him, “I know everything will be alright but it’s just. A lot to deal with all of a sudden.”  

Mountain stands then, wraps his arms around Phantom and hugs him, tight enough that he can feel it but not tight enough to be uncomfortable, “I wish I could take your worry away, Bug,” he mumbles into Phantom’s hair, “But, what I can do is make sure that every step of the way we’re careful until your stitches come out.” He pulls back from the hug slowly, “There really isn’t a way to prepare someone for something like this,” he admits softly, reaching out and combing his fingers through Phantom’s messy hair, “Right now you’re wondering how careful you need to be, but soon you’ll be wondering if you’re a burden on me because you can’t do anything,” he uses his grip on Phantom’s hair to tip his head back just enough so the other ghoul is looking him, “You’re not going to be a burden in any way to me, so don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it.”  

Phantom nods, tries to at least, and holds Mountain’s gaze for a while before looking away, a soft pink flush on his cheeks, “In the spirit of asking for help when I need it,” he mumbles, feeling shy all of a sudden, “Could you maybe...carry me to the wheelchair?” 

If Mountain’s surprised by the request, he doesn’t show it, instead he just smiles, nods and leans in to press another kiss between Phantom’s horns, “Of course I can, Bug.”  

And he does just that, when Phantom nods again, signifying that he’s ready to move now, Mountain slides one arm under Phantom’s legs and uses his other one to support his back, softly counting to three before lifting him up from the bed and into his arms.  

“Oh, this is nice,” Phantom mumbles, settling his head against Mountain’s shoulder, his arms folded in his lap as he lets the earth ghoul carry him across the room—it's much easier, much quicker than trying to get him maneuvered around enough to help him stand, much less daunting than the idea of trying to walk right now.  

(He can walk, he’d walked—leaning heavily against Mountain, to the bathroom several times since waking up—but something about doing it right now, he just can’t.)  

Once in the chair, he’s covered in a blanket and oh, it’s one of theirs, it smells like them and like pack, he’s wrapped up in it, surrounded by the familiar scent of family instead of the sterile scent of antiseptic—he purrs happily, peering up at Mountain with what is sure to be a goofy sort of expression.  

Mountain just smiles down at him and soon, they’re leaving the room—the infirmary, is as always, busy, even in the dead of night, but Mountain easily maneuvers them out of it and soon, they’re in the darkness of the hallway, the high windows letting light filter in and pool on the stone floors under them—it's chilly out here, but wrapped in the blanket, Phantom feels warm and content.  

Phantom must fall asleep at some point, because he doesn’t quite remember how he got into his bed, their nest, but it smells like them, like pack, everything that he’s missed these past few days in recovery, but then Mountain’s jostling him around, carefully removing the hospital gown and sliding a pair of soft pajama pants up his legs, helping him lay on his uninjured side, nudging him across the mattress so he can climb in behind him and curl around him.  

“Sleep, Bug,” he murmurs into his hair, wrapping his arm tight around his chest, careful of the stitches in his side.  

- 

Waking in his own bed does more for him than waking in the infirmary had—he's not confused when he wakes and he’s warm and held, Mountain’s arm still around him, keeping him close. He could stay here forever.  

—well.  

Phantom groans softly, elbows Mountain gently, “Hey Spruce,” he mumbles, words thick on his tongue, “Wake up, I need to go to the bathroom.”  

Mountain inhales, makes a sort of wheezing sound like the latter half of a snore, before snapping awake, “I’m awake, I’m awake” he mumbles, pulling away from Phantom and sliding out of bed; it’s dark in the room with the blinds pulled closed and Mountain makes no move to open them even as he stumbles over something on his way to the bathroom.  

The bathroom light illuminates the room, shows off the half-glamoured state of Mountain who is now taller than he had been in the hospital room, towering over everything as he moves across the room and comes to a stop by the bed.  

Pain blooms across Phantom’s side as he tries to scoot towards the end of the bed, a wince pulling at his features—something that makes Mountain rumble low in his throat before he’s reaching over and scooping him up into his arms again.  

“I’ve got you,” Mountain murmurs into his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple before he carries him to the bathroom, one slow step at a time.  

Phantom feels...well, he doesn’t want to put a name to how he feels, but he can’t quite shake that it’s nice to be taken care of like this, so he focuses on that instead, even as Mountain puts him down onto his feet in the bathroom, standing by him for a solid minute to make sure he’s able to stand before backing out of the room.  

And well, Phantom feels strongly about this, how Mountain’s willing to carry him, take care of him but he’s not coddling him or treating him like he can’t do anything—and it’s a nice sort of happy medium to settle into.  

He finishes his business, washes his hands and uses some of the water and a washcloth to fresh up a bit, feeling as if he’s been resting for days in his own sweat, even though he knows that he’s gotten a sponge bath at least once. 

“I’m going to bring some food in here for us,” Mountain says from the other room, and when Phantom turns his head to look through the door, he can see natural light illuminating it now, “Are you ready to come back to bed?”  

With one last swipe of the washcloth over his throat, wiping off the imaginary sweat he knows is there, he turns, using the vanity as something to lean heavily against, “Yeah, I’m ready,” he calls out, already feeling exhausted just from standing for a few minutes.  

Mountain comes into the bathroom, fully dressed and fully glamoured and smiles at him—and Phantom sees his eyes track towards the washcloth now sitting on the counter, “I’ll ask Omega about bathing while I’m out,” he says, coming close to Phantom, letting the shorter ghoul lean against him, easily taking his weight. “We may not be able to submerge you, but we could probably do a shower and keep the stitches away from the water as much as we can.”  

Phantom groans a little, pressing his face into Mountain’s shirt, “Please,” he mumbles, words muffled by the cloth, “I feel disgusting.”  

“You’re still very cute,” Mountain says sweetly, “Even if you are sweaty.”  

Phantom huffs and pulls his face away from Mountain’s shirt just to look up at him and stick his tongue out, “Ass.”  

“Mmhm,” Mountain agrees easily before he crouches just a bit and supporting both Phantom’s lower back and legs, lifts him into his arms once more.  

And well, even if Phantom does wish he had the strength to walk more, to be able to stand without having to hold onto something, he can’t help but admit that it’s nice to be lifted into Mountain’s arms like this. Carried around like he’s something precious.  

Mountain settles him back into the nest, makes sure that his back is propped up on a couple of pillows and that he has one supporting his back and the side with the stitches in it—it's comfortable, so much more comfortable than the lonely hospital bed he’d been in.  

“Here’s the remote to the TV,” he says, passing the small black remote over to Phantom, who eagerly takes it, and then, “Also, your phone,” Mountain says with a little laugh, passing that over as well when Phantom wiggles his fingers at him. “I’ve set up your meds on the table here, but we’ll worry about those once I’m back with some food.” He motions towards a couple of bottles of pills. “If you need anything, just call me and I’ll come straight back here, okay?”  

It’s obvious to Phantom that Mountain is worrying about leaving him alone, just a little bit, and it’s cute, refreshing and Phantom just laughs, shakes his head and powers on the TV, “I’m not going anywhere, Spruce, don’t worry. I’ll be here when you get back, take your time, alright? Check in with the others first and then come back to me with food.”  

Mountain looks slightly less convinced, but he nods, leaning over and pressing a kiss into Phantom’s hair, “If you say so,” he murmurs, pulling back. “I’ll be back soon.”  

Phantom hums, flipping through movies on one of the streaming services, “I’m fine,” he says in response, settling on something he’s seen before that can be good background noise. “Now that I’m sitting down, comfortable among the pillows, nothing hurts. I’ll see you soon, baby.”  

Mountain goes, though he looks back at Phantom once before leaving the room—and well, it’s cute for him to be worried like that. Sends a shock of butterflies through his belly. He’s so in love it’s stupid to think about.  

- 

When Mountain comes back sometime later, Phantom’s still awake, still propped up on the pillows, and now engrossed in some sort of TV show that he’ll no doubt get drawn into watching with the other ghoul. He’s carrying a tray of food, a few odds and ends—he'd done a bit of research after talking with Omega and pulled together help from both Swiss and Rain to put together a few dishes for Phantom.  

Easy things to eat, a couple of solid options and a hearty stew just in case he’s not able to eat solid foods just yet.  

He’s quiet as he comes further into the room, placing the tray down onto the table beside the bed before settling into the empty space by Phantom, and then he waits, knowing it’s not best to disturb him while he’s engrossed in something.  

Phantom doesn’t seem to be too far into the show, Mountain thinks, it’s some sort of procedural drama that he’s not familiar with, so inevitably when he gets roped into watching it, he should be able to catch up pretty quick, so he’s not lost on the plot points.  

Ten or so minutes later, the episode has come to a close and Phantom seems to draw himself out of his engrossed stupor, pausing the tv so it doesn’t go to the next episode, “Oh hey there big guy, how long have you been here?” he asks, only slightly embarrassed that he hadn’t even noticed Mountain come back.  

“Not long,” Mountain assures him, reaching out to run his fingers through Phantom’s messy hair, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead, “Are you hungry?”  

Phantom leans into the touch, into Mountain’s side and hums softly, “I could probably eat,” he admits, though he doesn’t actually feel all that hungry, he knows he should probably eat.  

Mountain smiles, presses another kiss to his forehead before pulling away so he can gray the tray, placing it on the bed in front of his own crossed legs, “Didn’t know what you’d be feeling up for,” he says, uncovering one of the trays—inside of it seems to be an array of deli meats and cheeses, some cracker options, something similar to a charcuterie board, minus the presentation, “Figured we’d go with some easier stuff, and if you’re not able to handle the solids, I’ve got a nice stew that should keep you full and warm until you’re able to.”  

“Oh, there’s multiple options, huh?” Phantom asks, slightly shocked, “Wow, I don’t know what to say to that, honestly.” He reaches out, snags a piece of ham and two pieces of cheese, shoving them into his mouth quickly, groaning softly as he chews, “It’s so simple but so good,” he admits after a moment, pressing his face into Mountain’s shirt again.  

Mountain wraps an arm around him, keeping him upright just a little as he does, “Of course,” he says with a little laugh, “Sometimes, the most basic things in life, like meat and cheese, are the answer.”  

Phantom lifts his head and makes a face at Mountain but doesn’t respond to him, just snags a few more pieces of meat from the tray, chewing his way through them thoughtfully. “What’s the other option you brought?” he asks, nodding towards the second covered plate.  

“Swiss tried to convince me to bring you another burger,” Mountain says with a little snort, “That’s the thing he always gets any one of us whenever we’re not well or we’re recovering from something, I don’t know why.” He reaches out and uncovers the tray slowly, “He finally accepted that maybe a burger was too much and settled on,” he waves his hand at the plate.  

Chicken tenders, of all things and Phantom snorts softly, pressing the flat of his palm tight against his injured side as he laughs about it, trying not to laugh too hard.  

“He’s great,” Phantom says, shifting his attention to those now, reaching out and plucking one off of the plate, “I do prefer these over a burger though.”  

Mountain laughs, shaking his head, “You have the palate of a toddler sometimes,” he says, incredibly fond as he watches Phantom eat. “But he figured you’d like those a lot more than say, a salad, which was Rain’s idea for some reason. Even though he knows of your aversion to strange leaf textures.”  

Phantom hums softly, finishing up one of the tenders, “Absolutely,” he says, “I would have eaten the salad if it were in one of the plates, wouldn’t have liked it as much but I’d feel bad otherwise.”  

“None of that now,” Mountain says, and the last plate he uncovers has fruit on it, freshly cut and peeled apples, mango and some kiwi. A small bowl of grapes as well. “There’s options, don’t worry.”  

Snatching up a handful of grapes, Phantom tosses them back easily, humming happily around them, “I don’t suppose you thought ahead to bring something other than that fancy water for me to drink, did you?”  

“Ah, wait,” Mountain says, reaching over to the side table again, grabbing a cup with a straw in it, “Just so happens that when I went down to the kitchens, they were juicing a nice sized watermelon,” he says, passing the cup to Phantom. “So yes, I did bring you something else to drink. Nothing caffeinated right now, according to Omega, and no alcohol or anything that could interact with your meds. But I can get more of this whenever you want it.”  

Phantom hums softly as he takes a long drink from the straw, the sweetness of the watermelon blooming across his tongue, “This is perfect,” he mumbles once he’s had his fill, letting Mountain take the cup from him, “Thank you.” he whispers, reaching up to tug Mountain’s head down with one of his horns. “I love you, you’ve been so good to me, even in the infirmary,” he mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to Mountain’s cheek.  

Something about the sweetness of it all makes Mountain’s cheeks flush and he ducks his head more to nuzzle Phantom’s temple, “I love you too,” he whispers. “I’m just taking care of what’s mine, as a proper mate should.”  

“Mate, huh?” Phantom mumbles back, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s a new one. I like it.”  

Mountain huffs, his exhale ruffling Phantom’s hair a bit, “You had to know I was courting you,” he mumbles, “That I’ve been courting you for a while now, idiot.”  

“Uh huh,” Phantom says, “I just liked hearing you say it out loud. That’s all.”  

Shaking his head, Mountain presses one last kiss to Phantom’s temple before pulling back; he picks up a cube of mango and holds it up for Phantom, whose eyes light up as he leans forward and takes the bite delicately from his hand.  

“Perfect,” Phantom says with a happy sigh, letting himself be fed several more bites of fruit before he goes back to the other foods, picking his way through them until he’s eaten enough that he feels better.  

Mountain seems to sense this as he gathers the plates and covers them again, placing them on the side table once more, “They’ll keep for a bit longer if you find yourself hungry again,” he murmurs, passing Phantom the juice once more, letting him take his fill of it.  

“You want to watch a few episodes of this with me?” Phantom asks once he’s settled back down, tugging Mountain’s arm snugly over his shoulder and well, Mountain can’t say no to him, so he settles in as well, glad he’d decided to wear something more comfortable today than his normal uniform.  

- 

At some point, Mountain ends up falling asleep, because the show had been, well it’d been okay, but it’d been bad at catching his attention and the one thing he unfortunately does whenever something only barely catches his attention is sleep.  

Not that Phantom seems to mind, because when he finally wakes up, Phantom’s running his fingers through his hair—he's not sure when he’d shifted enough to lay down nearly in the other’s lap—braiding the shorter strands and humming softly.  

There’s a movie on in the background, one that they’ve both seen, and Mountain wonders how long that’s been playing now as he slowly blinks awake, shifting enough for Phantom to realize he’s waking up.  

“Hey there sleepy spruce,” Phantom says cheerfully, “I took some pain meds a bit ago, don’t worry, as it turns out, sitting up for too long even with the help of the pillows is a bad thing for my side.” He says it so jovially and keeps his touch gentle, hoping the words won’t incite some sort of panic in Mountain.  

“Are you feeling better now?” he asks with a slight yawn, and regrettably, untangles himself from Phantom so he can sit up.  

Phantom grins up at him, “I’ve never felt better,” he says so truthfully that Mountain can’t help but believe him. “But I could also use some dinner? And...maybe, maybe we could go and see the rest of the pack for dinner?”  

And well, Mountain can’t say no to him when he asks so earnestly, so he quickly finds his phone and texts the pack’s groupchat, seeing if they’d be up to meet in the dining hall for dinner, getting back quick and very excited responses.  

The whole time, Phantom’s shifting happily beside him, grinning as he looks down at Mountain’s phone. 

“You’ve already texted them and asked them, haven’t you?” Mountain accuses him, narrowing his eyes at the quintessence ghoul.  

Phantom just shrugs, “Guilty,” he says, “I want to see the pack, and I want to eat food with them. I also need to get dressed and take a shower...” he trails off and then seems to deflate a bit, “Oh there’s so much to do.”  

Mountain slides off the bed and stands up, heading over to the closet, “Do you want to shower first or eat first?” he asks, “Omega says we can remove the dressing in the shower and let water wash over the area, gentle soap to clean it. We could do that now or we could eat first.”  

Phantom’s stomach gives a low rumble and Mountain laughs softly, “So, eat first?” he asks, and Phantom just huffs and nods, crossing his arms across his chest.  

He finds a shirt, one that buttons in the front and a pair of soft pants for Phantom—and well, Phantom’s mostly glad that he’d taken the pain medicine when he did, because getting dressed while not being able to sit up on his own was a difficult thing.  

But it takes a lot less time than he expected and soon he’s being lifted into the wheelchair once again, comfy socks and slippers on his feet to keep them warm, and then, they’re leaving their den, their nest behind and heading down the long winding halls towards the dining hall to meet with the others.  

They’ve already got a table and food when they make it and there’s a spot at the end of the table that’s void of any chair, the perfect size for Phantom’s wheelchair.  

It’s not often that they get to eat together in the dining hall anymore, not since the tour ended and everyone had taken on other duties on top of their own band ghoul duties, but it’s nice, it feels right and perfect, even if Phantom can’t kick at Dew’s legs under the table and Rain isn’t jostling into him every so often when his thoughts get to be loud enough for the water ghoul to hear.  

The others dote on him, tell him about things going on in their lives, the sermons he’s missed, the new influx of siblings that have joined since the end of the tour, all the settling in that they’ve had to do for the new people who choose to live at the church.  

He’s eager, once he’s better and able to walk, to jump in and help out, something that Dew is quick to assure him will still be needed even after his recovery, as new people are joining each day and already, Copia had ordered for a new wing to be built on the grounds to accompany the influx of people.  

“Oh, more lands to bless,” Phantom says, somewhat excited, eager to be part of that ceremony when the time comes; while he is quintessence, his earth magic sings strong in his veins.  

“Something to look forward to,” Swiss says from across the table, grinning at him and Phantom already knows that he’s going to have to rope the multi-ghoul into it too.  

Quietly, Mountain thinks that it’ll be a good place for Phantom to focus all of his magic, to prevent another buildup and when he looks up across the table, he can see the look on Aether’s face in agreement.  

Eventually, plates are cleared and Phantom’s feeling tired again, tired but so full of love for his pack that he almost doesn’t want to leave; but then Rain yawns, silent and full of teeth and from there, everyone starts to excuse themselves, soft well wishes and promises to come by and see him are whispered into Phantom’s hair and in his mind before it's just him and Mountain again.  

“Are you ready for that shower now?” Mountain asks and Phantom nods, blinking sleepily.  

The trip back to their den is shorter and soon, they’re inside the sanctity of their own room once more.  

“Omega dropped off a shower chair while we were at dinner,” Mountain says, “So you’ll be able to sit in the shower for now. This way you can stay in as long as you need to.”  

Phantom hums softly, “Seems easy enough to me,” he says, and his fingers start working opent he buttons on his shirt as Mountain knees down in front of the chair to remove his shoes and socks.  

After he’s been sufficiently stripped down to just his underwear and the bandage removed from his stitches, Mountain wheels him into the bathroom and starts the water, waits for it to warm up to the right temperature before turning on the shower—and it feels so nice and warm inside that Phantom just wants to stay in here for a bit, basking in the steamy room.  

“Come on you,” Mountain murmurs, helping him stand up so he can divest him of his underwear, and then he’s being lifted into Mountain’s arms, carried into the shower and placed in the chair.  

He groans as the water washes over him, a welcome thing after days of lying in bed. 

“Do you want to wash your body and I’ll get your hair?” Mountain asks him as he too steps in the shower, naked as well.  

“Only if you let me wash your hair too,” Phantom says, yawning as the toll of the day, his full stomach and the warm water start to affect him, “But let me do yours first because I want to enjoy it.”  

Mountain laughs and sits in front of him, leaning back against Phantom’s legs as he lets the water run through his hair, soaking the strands and then, he’s passing Phantom the shampoo, content to sit for a bit and let the quintessence ghoul have his way.  

After a while though, he can feel Phantom start to dip a bit as the massage of his scalp gets a little less firm and then Phantom’s hands fall away all together and when Mountain glances back at him, Phantom’s watching him through slitted eyes, a soft smile on his face.  

He stands then, doing a quick job of rinsing the soap out of his hair before he moves to stand behind Phantom, helping him lean back enough to properly wet his hair before passing him a washcloth and soap—it takes a bit longer, because each time Mountain looks down, Phantom’s head is tilted to the side and his chest is rising and falling steadily like he’s already asleep; it’s cute, the way he’s so pliant under his touch, sinking into it happily as Mountain continues massaging soap into his hair, his scalp, making sure to wash away several days of sweat.  

Eventually, Phantom reaches up and grabs at Mountain’s wrist, a silent plea to move onto the next thing, so he does, helping Phantom tip his head back once again so the soap can be rinsed from his hair—conditioner is next and after he’s massaged that into Phantom’s scalp, he lets it sit for a few minutes while he takes the washcloth and washes alone Phantom’s legs and the other places he wasn’t quite able to reach.  

As he goes to stand again, Phantom tugs him in for a sweet and chaste kiss, a quick press of the lips before they part. “I love you,” Phantom murmurs, running his fingertips down along Mountain’s arm and Mountain smiles at him.  

“I love you too,” he murmurs back, before he properly stands and then moves to rinse the conditioner out of Phantom’s hair.  

Once the water’s turned off and the bathroom is still full of steam, Phantom starts to feel cold, but he doesn’t have to wait long, because Mountain’s there with a towel; and he’s just tired enough to ignore the slight pain in his side as he’s guided to stand up so Mountain can properly dry him off.  

Unfortunately, he’s even sleepier by the time they manage to make it back to the bedroom, Mountain depositing him to sit on the edge of the bed as he goes to dig out another soft pair of pajama pants—they're a bit long on him but the waist fits fine, which tells him all he needs to know about who they belong to.  

Mountain knees beside the bed and carefully applies another bandage to his now dry skin, taking a moment to look at the stitches, “They’re looking better,” he murmurs with a little smile. “No extra redness, none of them look like they’re going to come open. I think we’ve done good at being careful.” he says with a smile up at Phantom.  

Phantom hums softly and runs his fingers through Mountain’s wet hair, “You’re doing a fantastic job taking care of me,” he murmurs, a pleased note in his voice. “Thank you.”  

Mountain doesn’t say anything at first, he just stands and helps Phantom get situated in bed, gets him another dose of his pain medicine and some water to swallow them down with, and only when he’s in bed on Phantom’s good side, an arm wrapped around him as the two of them settle in for the night does he whisper a soft, “You’re welcome,” into his skin where his head is resting over Phantom’s strong, steady beating heart.  

There will no doubts be some ups and downs in the upcoming weeks of recovery, there’ll be days where Phantom will feel like he’s being coddled and days where he thinks that he’s being a bother with it all—but right now, he’s content to settle into Mountain’s embrace and let the earth ghoul take care of him.  

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬

↳ summary: ellie finally finds out why alec is so uncomfortable around hospitals

↳ warnings: a hospital environment, mentions of needles (ew ew ew)

↳ notes: a com for my friend @snekdoodl !! find my coms here!

↳ song: mary—alex g

masterlist!

It was so cold here.

The infirmary was always cold to him. And not just in the traditional sense. It was filled with crying families and stone faced nurses tending to patients long gone. Full of shitty cafeteria food and hours upon hours of staring at beige walls waiting for either the worst of news or the best. Often it was the former.

Alec supposed he really needed to stop ending up here.

From his lonely room, he could hear a lot. Squeaky carts of medical equipment rolling down the halls, all the way to the dusgruntled murmurs of visitors trying to see their loved ones.

And for the past hour he had been listening to a specific one.

"I don't see why I can't visit him! He's my partner for christ sake!" Ellie snapped at a nurse for the umpeenth time, successfully frustrated.

The woman's hair was unruly, and her fury unmatched by none. She had been standing at the front desk for quite a while now demanding to see Alec. They had been in the middle of investigating a case when he had collapsed, and she was eager to see him.

"Ma'am—" The receptionist drawled, looking as uninterested as possible, "—you must wait to see your husband until we can finish taking care of him."

"He's not my—I'm not his—we're not—" She groaned, "I just want to know what room he's in."

"Room 62, but—"

By the time the receptionist had looked up from her computer, Ellie was already gone. Stomping up and down the hospital coradors until the faded gold numbers 62 stared her directly in the face.

She didn't have to walk very far into it to spot who she was looking for.

"Miller." Alec grumbled lowly, clutching his side as he sat himself up. He didn't look surprised to see her.

"Sir." Ellie responded, coming over to sit at his side. She took a brief look at all the beeping machines around him before flitting her gaze back to his face. He really didn't look well.

"Are you alright?" She started off with, unsure of what else to ask now that she had barged her way into his room.

"Er, yeah. I will be." Was all he offered in response.

A pregnant pause settled over the room. For a brief moment the only sounds came from the surrounding medical equipment.

"Could you hand me that kit over there, Miller?" Alex broke the silence. He was quick to gesture to the bedside table on his right with a bag on it, conveniently just out of his reach. Ellie nodded slowly, picking the thing up and handing it to him.

She watched as he awkwardly took the contents out, pulling a needle out of the plastic container before sticking it in a bottle of liquid.

"Sir—?" She went to ask, but paused when he grunted uncomfortably.

"I've been wanting to tell you for a while." Alec went on as he continued with whatever it was he was doing. Not sparing a glance at her. "But I didn't exactly know how. I suppose now is a better time than ever."

"I'm not sure I follow." Ellie watched as he slowly injected the clear liquid into his arm. For a moment, the thought of drugs passed her mind before dissapeaing like early morning fog on the top of a lake.

"This—" Alec tapped the side of the now emptied needle with his finger. "—is testosterone. I take it twice a day. Once in the morning, once in the evening. It helps me to keep my beard and my voice low."

"I'm not sure I follow."

Alec shuffled in his bed sheets uncomfortably. The longer the conversation dragged on, the more he was unable to hold Ellie's gaze.

"I'm transsexual, Miller." He finally confessed.

Ellie blinked once. Twice.

"I wasn't exactly sure how to bring it up. To you or anyone in the station really. I knew how it would look if the media found out the detective that fumbled the Sandbrook case also happened to be trans."

"I still don't understand, though." Ellie held up a hand to cut his rambling off. Alec stopped abruptly, watching her with an unreadable emotion swimming around in his eyes.

"You're a man." He nodded at her words. "Always have been. You just happened to be born in the wrong body. Am I right?"

Alec nodded again.

"So why would that change anything?"

Now it was his turn to be confused. His brows furrowed slowly, silently asking her to elaborate. Ellie obliged.

"Well, being trans doesn't make a difference with who you are. You're still detective inspector, you're still Alec Hardy, and you're still my—" She hesitated for a moment. Swallowing felt like trying to get through a throat full of cotton wads.

"—and you're still my friend sir. So I'm sorry, but I just don't understand why you were so tentative to tell me."

Alec waited a while before saying anything. Just watching as Ellie sat on the bed with a cautious expression. Watching as the clock on the wall across from him ticked away slowly.

Finally he spoke. The detective spoke slowly and gratefully, not a fool to take this moment for granted.

"Thank you, Ellie." He cleared his throat. Alec didn't trust his voice to not waiver.

Nothing more was said, but nothing more had to be. They both understood the importance of the moment and meerly sat in it, happy to let it pass.

[obetrolncocktails]

In regards to this supposed theory about WAYL...

So I wrote parts of a fic based on Waited All Your Life with Jake in a hospital a month or two ago...so if you want ouchie, here's a snippet.

Warnings: Hospitals, sickness, sadness, anxiety.

Josh would simply refuse to exist without Jake. Listening to the whirring and beeping of the machines above his brother’s head was becoming nauseating. 

“Honey, why don’t you take a break, maybe grab some coffee?” Karen, the twins’ mother suggested. “Jake is fine. No need to tie yourself up in knots right now.” Josh shook his head, waving his mother off. 

“No, I’m fine,” He said, ruffling his hair, which had gone one-too-many days without washing. Josh’s eyes were ringed with dark circles, and his skin had grown pallid from worrisome days of having no appetite. 

“No, you’re not,” Jake said, his raspy voice croaking softly, but with great effort. “You reek.” Josh’s lips curled upward with a mischievous grin. 

“You’re lucky I don’t have my armpit in your face,” He warned, standing up from the hospital recliner. 

“That would surely stop me from breathing,” Jake retorted morbidly. Josh was definitely unenthused. 

“Son,” Kelly said to Josh, stepping in front of the hospital bed, looping his hands around the handles at the foot of the frame. “Go shower and get something to eat. Jake is stable right now. I promise we will call you if there’s any update.”

“But,” Josh argued, crossing his arms as he looked down at his brother. 

“Go,” Jake said, nodding upward toward the door of the hospital room. “I’m okay.”

“Okay, but please keep me updated,” Josh pleaded with his parents. “Where’s Jita?” He asked. 

“She went home a while ago. We told her the same thing we’re telling you. You can’t be there for Jake if you can’t take care of yourself, honey,” Karen said, stepping over to rub Josh’s back. 

“Okay,” Josh resigned, stepping toward the door. “I won’t be gone long, Jake.” He looked at his brother with deep concern, and he wasn’t wrong to do so. Jake had been diagnosed with ‘Risk Class IV pneumonia,” and his oxygen saturation levels weren’t increasing as quickly as the doctors had wanted. Jake was wheezy, and it was obvious to everyone in the room how difficult it was for him to breathe evenly. He was in stable condition, but for how long was anyone’s guess. His hands were poked with several IV leads, and his face was pale in pallor, which was frightening for Josh to see. Growing up, he couldn’t remember a time when he and Jake had ever been this seriously ill. Jake had broken his arm when he was younger, and it required surgery, but sickness was something new for Josh. He’d never spent too much time worrying about it, but now with his brother sick in a hospital bed with something far more serious than anything he’d ever experienced, Josh began to let his mind wander to the darker, intruding thoughts. The drive home consisted of Josh tapping nervously on the steering wheel, unable to focus. When he arrived at the red light where he needed to turn left, he decided to continue straight, heading for Jake’s house. He needed to be with Jita. She understood; being Jake’s other closest loved one, she would understand the weight that he bore on his shoulders. He also knew that she’d be the last to judge his appearance.

[sephirthoughts]

Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped CH. 5

FLASHBACK TIME: Deepground Part I

screenshots borrowed from @siringadev 💜 💙

Nero’s first memories weren’t of Weiss. They were of fear and pain. Being alone in a terrifying white space, full of noise and chaos. A woman weeping, somewhere he couldn’t see. Aching all over his body, sharp pricks in his skin, tubes sticking out of him everywhere, sickening chemical smells. The whirring and clicking and occasional beeping of machines.

They thought he was blind, at first, because he never looked around or focused on anything. It turned out he was nearly blind, but only in bright light. He had perfect dark-vision. This wasn’t a physical defect, they decided, but a successful result of bio-engineering, and congratulated themselves on their ingenuity.

He never cried, as an infant, and as a toddler, he never smiled or laughed. He was marginally responsive, but avoided eye contact, and was entirely nonverbal. They assumed he was mentally deficient, but he wasn’t broken. He just didn’t work the way they expected. 

The silent, crimson-eyed little boy was actually hyperaware, always absorbing and digesting information, sucking it up like a dry sponge. He just didn’t want to communicate with the people who put a muzzle on him, whenever they took him out of his room, poked and prodded him all over his body, like it was their property, stuck needles and probes into him, pumped his veins full of stuff that burned his insides, and fed him pills that made him vomit.

Rather than asking questions of his tormentors, he sent superfine threads of darkness into people’s heads and examined their thoughts directly.

When he wanted to know what was going on outside his cell, darkness vapor seeped from his palms and fingertips, slipped into the shadows, and wandered the vast, underground complex, taking his perception with it. 

Though he’d hardly ever left his own cell, by the time he was six years old, he knew enough about the Deepground complex's layout, that he could’ve drawn a reasonably accurate map from memory.

One day, his darkness tendrils crept under a door, to find a cell like Nero’s own, only it was bigger and had much nicer furniture. There was a boy there. Snow-white hair and silver eyes, a descended angel in a halo of light, blindingly bright to Nero’s darkness-filtered senses. 

He was definitely a child, but he was a lot bigger than Nero, and he looked fierce and strong. Beautiful and dangerous, like a lion in a picture book.

Nero wanted to reach out and touch him so badly it made his chest ache, but the darkness would only hurt the other boy. So he satisfied himself with watching him, from dark corners and beneath furniture. 

Over time, he grew bolder, and when the beautiful boy was asleep, the darkness would silently coalesce, inky purple-black, into the little demon’s spectral form, and he’d sit there for hours at a time; a creature of the abyss, lurking in the shadows, watching his angel sleep, and listening to the music of his soft, regular breathing.

Then, one night, the unthinkable happened. Those silver eyes opened, and looked right into his face. Nero’s spectral projection should have collapsed and scattered, but it could only stand petrified and stare back at the boy, captivated by his gaze, trembling with something that was akin to fear, but not quite the same.  

“Who are you?” the silver boy’s voice asked, drowsy and thick with sleep.

That broke the spell and Nero’s projection instantly dissipated. As his consciousness returned to his body, he thought he heard the other boy calling out to him. Wait! Come back!

For a long while afterward, he didn’t dare enter that room, or even send his tendrils anywhere too close to it. But eventually, his curiosity and an intense, irresistible compulsion to see that boy again won out, and he went venturing cautiously back.

This time, the silver boy had been waiting for him. He looked asleep and his eyes were closed, but the moment Nero’s specter had fully materialized, he heard a soft voice say, “Please, don’t run away. Please.”

He almost did, but something in the boy’s tone stopped him. His spectral form stood perfectly still, wide-eyed and wary, as the boy sat up in his bed. 

“I dreamed about you,” were the next words out of his mouth. “That you were sitting by my bed, watching over me. I mean, I thought I dreamed it. But…you’re real, aren’t you.”

Nero’s specter gave a tiny nod. 

“What are you?”

Nero stared. 

“Can you talk?”

He shook his spectral head slowly. He could talk, but he would have to touch the other boy with his darkness, and he was afraid that he’d hurt him. He’d seen the tentacles drag people into the miasma to be consumed within mere seconds, before. 

Not that he felt bad about it—they were all big people, and he didn’t care one way or another whether they lived or died—but this boy…he felt instinctively that it would be deeply heartbreaking, if he no longer existed.

“It’s ok, I can ask you yes or no questions,” the silver boy said cheerfully. “Are you alive?”

Nod.

“Do you live here, in Deepground?”

Nod.

“I’ve never seen you before,” the silver boy mused. “But I’ve never seen anyone but adults. They must keep you locked up, too. Are you dangerous, like me?”

Stare.

“Well, you must be, if you can sneak around past security and everything. Hey, have you seen any other kids, here?”

Shake.

“They say my brother is here, too, but I’ve never seen him. They say I can’t, because he’s sick. I don’t even know what he looks like. Probably like me. If you see a kid who looks like me, could you tell me? I just want to know if he’s ok.”

Nero recoiled, at the idea that the silver boy had someone he cared about, already, and would have become morose, only at that moment, booted footsteps came plodding down the hall, outside, accompanied by several adult voices.

“Oh, no!” the silver boy whispered. “They must be doing a surprise inspection! Go, go! Before they catch us! Wait—you’ll come and see me again, won’t you?”

Nero hesitated, then nodded, before his specter vaporized, whirling away into the shadows, leaving no trace of his passing.

LINK TO CH. 6

[99liv3s]

I'd love to join in with the personal birth clinic~ (thank you for the chance, you have great stories)

Character name: Savannah, 20s

Height: 5'5

Eyes: hazel, glasses

Hair: brown, shoulder length

Body: Pear shaped, pale skin

She's nervous about the birth (even scared and vocal) but happy to finally be a mom (would be fine with the non-human babies, just wants to be a mom)

As the doctor listened to various parts of her large belly using his stethoscope, Savannah breathed slowly, slightly trembling with nerves! Her bright hazel eyes watched him wide eyed behind her glasses as he continued to examine her, feeling around on her bump and checking her pulse! "You're doing great," he said to her with a smile! Everything seems to be going well!" "You're still in the early stage of labor, but you are already making good progress!" "Now, let's get you as comfortable as we can!" The doctor instructed Savannah to take her clothes off, and she did so, standing in front of him completely naked, other than her glasses and her shoulder-length brown hair! The doctor then gave her a small but comfortable hospital gown to put on, and then began placing various sensors on her belly and arm, which would allow the machines to monitor her vitals as well as the baby's! Savannah fidgeted nervously, as the machines began to beep steadily! "I'm scared," she vocalized, as the doctor nodded his approval at these sounds! "Oh, you're going to do so well," he reassured her! "Don't worry, everything is going fine so far!"

Savannah screamed as the baby pushed, several hours later! She thrashed around on the birthing bed in severe pain, the machines beeping rapidly and loudly! Two midwives held her legs apart and onto the bed, while a third held her arms over her head! The doctor was now between her spread legs, at her opening, shining a light into her vagina! "Good, that's good!" He said! "Push again!" Savannah had spend the last few hours alternating between walking around the room and waiting on the bed as the contractions worsened and worsened, until she reached a point that it felt like this baby was going to burrow itself out of her, and the the doctor had finally told her it was time to push! The pain was awful, and she was nervous but ready to finally see her baby! Savannah pushed as she screamed again, the pressure moving through her with great agony! "You're doing so well, Savannah," the doctor coached! "It huuurts!" She whined as a bulge began to form in her vagina! "I know it hurts, but you're doing great!" "Just think, each painful contraction and push brings you one step closer to holding your baby in your arms!"

"AAAAAHHH, IT BURNS!" Savannah screeched out as the head crowned! A midwife held her hand as she pushed hard! "You're getting there," the doctor said, pressing on her vagina in an attempt to guide the head out! "I know the pain and burning is bad, but try to focus on something else!" "Focus on your excitement of being a mother soon!" Savannah nodded and a smile flashed onto her face, before another very powerful contraction hit her, and she screamed again! "Push!" The doctor commanded, as he pulled the head gently!

With a huge grunt and push, the baby emerged with a gush of fluids, right into the doctor's arms! The sounds of crying filled the room from both mother and baby, as all the midwives smiled, and the doctor announced, "It's a girl!" He presented the newborn to Savannah, who held her new baby, tears falling down her cheeks and onto her glasses! Her baby's hair was brown like hers and her skin was almost as pale! Savannah smiled at her daughter as the midwives cleaned the two patients! "Congratulations, you're a mom to a healthy, 7 pound baby girl!" The doctor said happily! "You did great!"

(Your character rolled a 10 = single baby birth)

[identitty-dickruption]

I thought I'd write a post about exactly what happened when I went to donate blood yesterday, so that anyone who might be anxious about it knows what to expect!

I was greeted at the door by a very nice man :) he asked me my name, date of birth, and for a form of photo ID

I then had to answer a questionnaire to make sure my blood was going to be okay (e.g. "have you had a viral infection in the past 6 months?" and similar)

I was given some apple juice to sip on while I waited for my name to be called. there was also the option of orange juice

I was taken into a small nurse's office to have my height, weight, blood pressure and haemoglobin checked. the haemoglobin machine hurt more than the actual donation, but it WAS just a finger prick

it was all good, so I was taken through to the donation area :)

they sat me down on a reclining chair and cleaned the site the needle was going to go into

I put on my noise-cancelling headphones to listen to a podcast (they also had TVs and free wifi, if surfing the web or watching TV is more your style)

the needle went in! I actually barely felt it. it was like a little pinch, and then there it was!

the machine beeped whenever my blood flow got low. when this happened, I had a stress ball to squeeze and some leg exercises to do to try and get my blood moving again

then the machine did a happy song once it had stolen enough of my blood!

I had another blood pressure check, and then I was free to slowly stand up and head towards the free food area :)

I had to be monitored for 15 minutes to make sure I didn't have any negative symptoms. in this time, I got a free milkshake, more juice, a hot chocolate, some biscuits, and some cheese & crackers

you will feel very hungry and a little bit tired once it's all over. take advantage of the free food, and take your time getting back out into the world

and that's it! it was scary at first, but it's actually not that bad. as long as you can sit there and zone out for a bit, it's not too different from sitting any other place. if you're anxious, you can always let the nurses know, and they'll be able to help you out. the nurses at the donation centre I went to were really nice!

[cg29fics]

Gone

Issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters. The full complete fic is also available via FF.Net & A03 - CreativeGirl29

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone - If you would like to be tagged in these updates then please let me know and I’ll add you to the list: @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

Previous: Chapter 37. Waiting Room.

Chapter 38. Reactions.

Both Alan and his grandma had made their way into Virgil’s room. Alan now sat where Jeff had previously been and held Virgil’s hand in his, while his grandma sat on the opposite side with her hand placed on Virgil’s arm. Both had remained silent throughout their time in the room, both deep in their own personal thoughts. Eventually, Alan broke the silence and began to speak. “Hey Virgil. It’s Al. I… I just wanted to tell you that, I know you like your sleep and everything, but… But you have to wake up… Okay?” Alan paused, half expecting the usual reply of. ‘Go away Alan.’ That he normally received when waking his brother up from his slumber. Obviously, getting no such reply Alan continued. “Please Virg, I miss you… You’re the one I tell all my secrets too. Yeah, I can talk to the others, but the deepest secrets… Well, they’ve only ever been told to you, not even Gordon knows some of the ones you’ve heard!” Alan sniffed and wiped away a tear that was trickling down his face.

“Come here sweetheart.”

Alan glanced up and noticed his grandma was now standing next to him, with her arms open ready for a hug. Alan smiled and moved slightly over on his chair, allowing his grandma to sit down on the edge and wrap him tightly in her arms.

… …

30 minutes later:

“Hey.” Alan smiled greeting his three brothers and his father who were all conversing together on the sofa, when he and his grandma made their way back into the waiting room.

“Can we go in now?” Gordon asked.

“Of course, you can,” Ruth confirmed.

Gordon and John grinned, as they both jumped to their feet, and headed out of the room.

“So, what's been going on here then?” Ruth questioned, slipping in between Jeff and Scott on the sofa.

Jeff signalled for Alan to join them, as soon as he had, he began to fill them in on what had been discussed.

… …

“Geez!” Gordon sighed deeply, as he entered the room and observed all the wires and machines that were surrounding his brother. “Did I look this bad when I had my Hydrofoil accident?”

“Yes, you did!” John replied sadly, as he dropped into one of the chairs and clutched Virgil's hand.

Gordon breathed in and moved around to the opposite side of the bed. “Come on Virgil please open your eyes for us. Me and John really don’t want to have to share middle brother duties.”

John released a light laugh. “Yes, come on Virg. I mean, can you imagine the fallout?”

Gordon and John both grew quiet at receiving no response from Virgil, both remained silent, as they continued to listen to the beeps of the machine and watch the rise and fall of Virgil’s chest. Another half an hour had passed by with John and Gordon both talking intermittently to Virgil when Doctor Knight walked into the room and spoke quietly to Nurse Greggs. When he had finished he turned to both Gordon and John. “Are the rest of your family still in the waiting room?”

“Yes.” John replied. “Is there something wrong?”

“I have the drug screen results.”

“And?” John asked.

“If you’d like to come with me, then we can go through the results with the rest of your family.” Doctor Knight responded.

John and Gordon looked at each other worriedly, before following the Doctor out of the room.

… …

Doctor Knight had gathered the family in the interview room which was situated next to the waiting room, so they could gain a bit more privacy, due to other families starting to arrive. Once everyone had settled Doctor Knight began. “We have the drug results back, and the only anomaly is Rynax.”

Jeff sighed. “The same drug as before?

“That’s correct.”

“How much was he given?” Jeff asked.

“A considerable amount! Which was enough to stop his breathing. If you hadn’t found him when you did, unfortunately he would have suffered permanent brain damage.”

Upon hearing this news Ruth gripped her son’s hand in hers. “Where do we go from here?”

“We will continue to support his breathing until he wakes up,” Doctor Knight responded.

“And what are the chances of him having a reaction?” Scott asked.

“Due to the amount he was given, plus the potential interaction with the medication that he was on, it’s reasonable to expect him to have some side effects. However, since he’s been on renal precautions since coming in, it shouldn’t be anything lasting.”

“What side effects will he get?” Alan questioned.

“We are unable to say with any certainty. Virgil may display several symptoms at once, or he may have none. It really depends on how he processes the Rynax. The most common side effects with this drug are; nausea, vomiting, and migraines. So, we wouldn’t be surprised if these do appear.”

“How long are the symptoms likely to last?” John enquired.

“If he does show signs then anywhere from 24 hours to 3 days, which is usually how long the drug will stay in his system for.”

“When will he wake up?” Gordon queried.

“Unfortunately, we can’t give you an exact timeframe. However, Virgil is young, and normally he’s fit and well. So, the chances that it’s sooner rather than later are good.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jeff replied, standing to shake the man’s hand, “can I see my son now?”

“Yes of course,” Doctor Knight responded.

Jeff breathed out, a look of worry etching across his face as he looked over at his mother and his three sons.

“It's okay, dad,” Scott assured him, “go and see Virgil… We'll finish here, and one of us will be through in a moment.”

Jeff nodded and quickly left the room.

… …

A short time later:

Scott stepped into his brother’s ICU room and observed his father clutching Virgil’s hand, as he lent in, and whispered soothing words to his son. “Dad.”

Jeff glanced back at Scott and smiled. “Hey.”

Scott placed his hand on his dad’s shoulder. “I’m going to take grandma back to the hotel, so she can get some rest.”

“What about your brothers?” Jeff questioned.

“John and Alan are coming with me, so we can get started on everything we discussed earlier.”

“And what about Gordon?”

“He’ll be staying here with you,” Scott replied.

Jeff shook his head and went to stand, but was instantly pushed back down into his chair by Scott. “But…”

Scott cut his father off. “No buts… You’re staying here dad! Someone needs to stay with Virgil, and I know your head will not be in the game if you are back at the hotel… So, I’m taking command! I will contact home and let everyone know what’s happened. As soon as we have any information then I will let you know… And as I said, Gordon will be staying here with you!”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Jeff smiled.

“Well, someone needs to keep an eye on you!”

Jeff laughed at Scott’s response, pulling his son into a heartfelt hug. “Remind me when you became the father?”

“I’ll see you later dad,” Scott grinned, releasing his father and leaving the room.

“So, you’re my babysitter?” Jeff chuckled when Gordon immediately entered after Scott had left.

“Mm… I’m just not getting paid as much as I used to though!” Gordon joked back, dropping into the seat on the opposite side of Virgil’s bed.

… …

Back at the hotel:

The past couple of hours had been predominantly busy for Scott. On returning to the hotel, he had begun by making sure that their grandma had gone to get some much-needed rest, he had then insisted that Alan and John get at least a few hours of sleep in before they began their next mission. When Scott was satisfied that all of them were sleeping, he contacted their island home.

Penelope had been the one to answer his call and had instantly snapped into action when she had heard what had happened to Virgil. She began by relaying all the information that she had obtained, regarding the Hood’s possible hideout before being arrested, and all the intelligence that had been made on the two male accomplices who had been helping him. Then to Scott’s delight she informed him about the invention that Brains had been working on, which would potentially act as a shield against his mind powers. She then continued by letting him know that because of this invention needing to be tested, that herself and Parker would be joining them in New Zealand, with Parker immediately flying them both out in Tracy 2, so she could visit the Hood and try out the new equipment.

Scott had initially tried to resist, however, when she had made several statements as to why she needed to be there, he eventually gave in knowing that when Penny had decided something there was no way anyone was changing her mind. Secretly, he was glad that the young woman would be joining them, knowing it would free up a little bit of time for each of them to visit Virgil, and knowing that if, and when Virgil did wake, another familiar and friendly face would do him the world of good.

A couple of hours later, Alan, John, and their grandma had woken to find Scott still awake and already working through some plans he had made. After seeing how tired Scott looked, his grandma had literally dragged her grandson to his bed, ordering him to get a few hours’ sleep, while John and Alan began working on the background checks. Scott had tried protesting, but once his head had hit the pillow, he instantly fell asleep.

… …

Meanwhile:

Throughout the past couple of hours, Jeff and Gordon had remained at Virgil’s bedside. Both talking intermittently to him, as they willed him to breathe on his own, both frustrated that still no change had taken place.

It was now 7.30am, and a new nurse called Ellie Ford, had recently come on duty for the morning shift. The nurse smiled at both men as she continued to observe the monitor and ventilator readouts. “Virgil’s just started triggering breaths.” She informed them.

“What… He has?” Jeff enquired, the light in his eyes slightly returning.

“Yes,” she responded.

Gordon grinned at his father and lent in towards his brother. “Come on Virg, keep breathing for us, you can do it!” He willed, as he started stroking Virgil’s hair.

Another 10 minutes passed by, Ellie had just finished checking his obs, and changing his IV bags, when Virgil’s hand flinched out of his fathers. The nurse ushered Gordon over to his father’s side of the bed, so she could gain full access, placed her one hand on Virgil’s shoulder and leaned in towards him. “Virgil can you hear me?” Virgil’s hand shot to his chest and then instantly settled. “Okay, keep talking to him. He may be hearing you.” She said, remaining at Virgil’s side. “Hopefully he’ll start to wake up very soon.”

Jeff nodded and looked hopefully towards Gordon. “So, any ideas on how to wake him up?”

Gordon thought for a moment and then released a light laugh. “I do actually… So Virg, when you were missing I was telling the guys about your last birthday when I managed to catch you out with one of my pranks. You remember… I covered you in pink feathers, and decked out...” Gordon paused and leaned in closer to Virgil, so the nurse could not hear him. “And I decked out your bird with pink balloons, party streamers and banners saying, 'Got You!’ Do you remember how I managed to pull that one off?” Receiving no reply from Virgil, Gordon continued. “You were distracted because I had made you believe that I was going to paint your girl yellow… Well, if you don’t wake up for us then I promise that this time I will paint her a glorious yellow, and I will sign the outside. ‘Love from Squid,’ in a luminescent pink!”

When Gordon uttered those last words Virgil’s monitors and ventilator began to screech, his eyes shot open, his body stiffened, his head began violently thrashing from side to side, and he began coughing and gagging against the tube. “Wow, Virg. I was only joking!” Gordon burst out, shocked and distressed at his brother’s reaction.

“Virgil, can you look at me?” Ellie questioned, holding Virgil’s chin in the palm of her hand.

With an unknown strength, Virgil’s hands shot up and gripped at the intubation tube. The nurse struggled with Virgil, eventually demanding a stunned Jeff and Gordon help hold his hands down. Both men instantly snapped out of the trance they had been in, and pulled Virgil’s hands out of the nurse’s way, so she could make sure the tube remained in place, and hit the emergency button.

“Virgil calm down, no one’s going to hurt you!” Gordon said desperately trying to reassure his brother.

Virgil’s head and body jolted from side to side, his face beginning to turn red, as the monitors and ventilators continued to screech.

“Please son,” Jeff begged, “you’re going to hurt yourself even more!”

At that moment, several members of staff hurried into the room. Followed by two muscular looking men, who pushed Jeff and Gordon out of the way, and forcibly held Virgil’s wrists flat on the bed. Gordon and Jeff plastered themselves to the wall, neither wanting to observe what was happening, but still not being able to look away.

Virgil suddenly became more violent as he attempted to kick his fractured legs around, alongside trying to sit himself up, and throw himself over the bed. The two men who had been holding Virgil’s wrists, moved their other hand onto his shoulders to prevent his attempts at sitting up, while Nurse Ford, keeping her one hand on the tube hit some buttons on the ventilator and monitor, finally silencing the screeching alarms.

“Try him on CPAP.” The doctor ordered.

One of the other nurses began pushing some buttons on the ventilator.

Jeff grew more impatient as his son continued to thrash around, while the red lights blinked furiously, and numbers flashed on the machines before him. “Please do something,” he begged.

"He's apnoea ventilating," the doctor said a few seconds later, although for Jeff it had felt like hours. "Sedate him and put him on his previous settings."

“Propofol?” Ellie asked as the other nurse pushed some more buttons on the ventilator.

The doctor nodded. "Bolus 50 and start an infusion."

The other nurse hurried out of the room and within seconds was back with some medication, she began setting up the infusion, while the doctor drew up some of the drug, which looked like milk into a syringe and then injected it into Virgil’s drip. Within seconds Virgil eyes closed, he stopped thrashing around, and he became perfectly still. The two men immediately let him go and left the room, while the doctor listened to Virgil’s chest, and Ellie began checking that the tube was still in the right position.

“What the hell happened?” Jeff demanded, stepping away from the wall and towards his son, looking white as a sheet from the shock of seeing his boy’s reaction.

The doctor offered both Jeff and Gordon a seat, which they gladly took, and introduced herself as Doctor Maxwell. “Unfortunately, Virgil woke while his brain was still jumbled from the Rynax that was in his system. I tried to let him breathe for himself, hoping that we would be able to take the tube out, but unfortunately his breathing is still not strong enough. So, we'll keep him asleep until tomorrow morning, and try waking him again then.”

“Did he harm himself, or re-injure anything? Gordon asked.

“It’s unlikely but we will check him over and do an X-ray on his fractured legs and his dislocated shoulder just to make sure,” Ellie replied, “I’ll also check his stitches, but as they’ve been in for six days and were due to be taken out they should be okay.”

Jeff gripped Virgil’s hand in his, leaned in and whispered some words to his son. When Jeff had settled back to a sitting position Doctor Maxwell continued. “Regrettably while myself and Nurse Ford do run these checks, we will have to ask you to wait in the waiting room.” She informed them.

Jeff let out a despondent sigh at not being able to stay with his son.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be as quick as possible,” Ellie responded.

Jeff nodded and followed Gordon into the now packed out waiting room.

“Dad?”

“Yes Gordon?” Jeff replied.

“Will you be okay while I call the others and update them on what’s happened?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine!” Jeff smiled reassuringly. “Can you also find out how they are getting on?”

“No problem dad,” Gordon responded pulling his father into his arms before leaving the room.

… …

It was now 10am, Scott had managed around three hours of sleep before waking up to find his two brothers gathered around the table in their large hotel suite, with Penelope and Parker who had just arrived. “Hello,” he greeted Penny and Parker sleepily.

“Hello Scott,” Penelope smiled, giving him a hug.

“Good morning Master Scott,” Parker responded, shaking his hand, “would you like a coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Scott returned.

“I’ll order us all some food as well,” Parker added leaving the room.

“Where’s grandma?” Scott questioned.

“She’s returned to the hospital about an hour ago,” John answered.

“So, where’s Gordon?” Scott asked.

“I’m here bro,” Gordon yawned, exiting the bathroom after having a shower.

“Any news on Virgil?” Scott enquired hopefully. When Gordon had relayed what had happened at the hospital, Scott slumped into his chair. “So, how have you been getting along with the background checks on the nurse and Doctor?”

“Well,” John started. It’s actually brought up some interesting information on both, but one is very damning!”

“Which one?” Scott enquired.

Next… Chapter 39. Background Checks.

[velvetineblue]

"Welco—Oh, it's you." ( naeun, any verse.)

@tvsteoftrvgedy

 “ yeah, it's me. and you . . . ” he sounded equally 'thrilled' to see Naeun standing nearby Lee's hospital bed. ( which was to say: NOT THRILLED AT ALL. ) Tai didn't care if Jinwoo liked this girl; he didn't. his dark eyes regard her similarly to a fly on the wall: a pest that may be harmless compared to a stingered hornet, but was no less annoying. this was a hospital, though, not the Black Fang garage: she was pretty safe from his position of power in this neutral, peaceeful place. there wasn't much he could do other than verbally antagonize her, but that he did: “ what are you even doing here? ” Tai drops the items he had been carrying in his hand, onto an endtable near Lee’s bed, where it looked as though his friend was sound asleep . . . the contents were a phone charger and an iPhone: a much older model than the one he used, though. it was an extra phone that Tai had found lying around, and filled to the brim with playlists of music that Lee loved. he was going to leave it for him here, to let it play on a low volume all day and night long, so Lee had something to listen to . . . they used to love listening to music together. they’d play all the new releases, and suss out who was making a good or bad album this year . . . Tai doesn’t like that Naeun is here, interrupting what he intended to be a private moment, between him and his old friend. he looks at her disparagingly. “ . . . what– did he tell you he thinks you’re pretty? ' he wants to take you on a ride on his motorcycle?” ( is flirtation what kept her coming back? Lee did have a way with girls... ) “ – ‘cause if he did, don’t let it get to your head. he tells that to every girl he thinks he has a chance with, and that’s a lot of girls. ” he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, looking at her with moody but patient obstinance in his eyes. he was waiting for her to take the hint, and leave. but the consistent beeping of Lee’s heart monitoring machine started to make him restless, and anxious. it reminded him of how his friend relied on machines and doctors to stay alive. ( it reminded him that Lee couldn’t rely on HIM… if he could, he wouldn’t be here, and neither would Naeun. ) Tai looked around the room, to distract himself. in the sunlit window sat a beautiful bouquet of flowers left by Lee's mother, and a collection of notes and cards with messages for Lee, and a childlike crayon drawing left by one of his younger cousins . . . heartfelt little gifts, meant to cheer Lee up when he was conscious to see them, but every one of them made Tai’s heart ache. did Lee know they were here? could he see them? did he know how much everyone cared? he forgets about his grudge, temporarily, and calls to Naeun, even though he had just tried to kick her out. “ hey . . . if you can really talk to him . . . he knows we miss him, right . . . ? you’ve told him ? ” a drop of water quietly fell from one of the leaves in Pureun's bouquet, and landed on the windowsill. Lee's mother must have been by recently, to water it. his throat tightened, and he felt a wave of sadness so thick it made him a little nauseous. his voice grew quieter: lacking the aggression that had lined every word before his final ones; “ he knows I'm sorry ... right ? ”

[knowlessman]

it finally crossed my mind to watch this at the magic hour of fifteen minutes past midnight again so here we go (bnha s6e1-6)

oh yeah, libertaria happened; Mosquito from Soul Eater got his entire city's ass handed to him by pajama sam. and I think hawks fucking killed best jeanist to keep his double agent cover intact. I forget whether Endeavor is in the hospital atm or what, if I didn't know any better I'd swear the bit with the smart nomu was two entire seasons ago -- OH FUCK, AND SLENDERVOID TURNED OUT TO BE AN OLD STUDENT FROM UA. there was a whole thing with him and eraser head and present mic

oh boy, and Chapped Komaeda's quirk leveled up too apparently

new OP to go with the new season? I thought this didn't happen with anime. …I miss Carousel 'XD

oh yeah, and Twice unlocked the ability to use his power on himself freely too.

ah, we're finally learning more about Robotnik

"of course, he does have a quirk, it just wasn't in the records" dangit, show keeps dodging opportunities to have quirkless characters in important roles (and have them, y'know, stay quirkless). I don't know for a fact that the detective guy doesn't have one, but assuming he doesn't, he's like the only one. Hell, even that quirkless-centered faction in that movie had no quirkless members who even had faces, much less names; cept maybe that one nameless police chief guy

(outro showing deku and tomura standing across from each other) gawd I hope these two don't get to have a conversation, deku's gonna piss me off so bad

oh no, she killed the ugly platypus

… no yeah I officially miss Carousel. I should go find the other intros and listen to them again, I'm sure there must've been at least one that I liked more than Carousel and just didn't remember the name of (speaking of which, I'm like 50/50 on whether it's Carousel or Merry-Go-Round)

"in all, we only have five High End nomus, including Woman" really? …is her quirk having hair

Mirko goes pretty damn hard, huh

heh. Pichu has Lightning Rod, then. Kinda doubt this means he's worked past that recoil tho. (misc, ngl that amplivolt guy is kinda hot. lights his cigarette with his sparks. not quite the absolute legend that Dilf Legoshi (Chimera from the second movie) is, but still, not bad)

'XD poor Twice is just racking up the L's when it comes to introducing new friends

"Dark Shadow! Ragnarok!" pfft, calling him by his government name now, eh? 'XD

…wait hawks is a fucking child soldier? what the fuck

"no! mewtwo's not ready yet! he can't be taken out of the machine until it beeps!"

danganronpa 4's looking legit

you're not gonna get very far in tetris with a setup like this, not unless you've got some ungodly T-spins

you had ONE JOB, dollar-tree cyclops. one job. "take care of shigaraki." your dumb ass didn't even take him out of the goop, you just HAD to shoot the bad guy machine with your dinky eye laser before doing anything else so it'd spark up and defibrillate him, even though that probably shouldn't have done anything because HIS HEART WAS ALREADY STOPPED

-- (defibrillators don't start your heart, they force it to stop so that your body freaks out and starts over trying to pump it in a proper rhythm. or something like that anyway, lol I got a D in survey of anatomy and learned from tv tropes that writers have been repeating misinformation about zappy shock pads for ages)

(cyclops got jean-gray'd, probably, I don't know x-men) yooo, tomura takin this dipshit's cape and making it his new wardrobe like Liliana taking that angel's hairpiece, I dig it -- or xykon taking that one guy's crown ig. …okay not that xykon isn't a cool villain but I think I just stopped being impressed by this trope

o_o tokoyami you're even weaker to fire than hawks is (probably), the fuck you think you're doing here? -- "this hero friend of yours killed an enemy" okay here's a take: hawks's subplot and entire deal, even his backstory, is in the wrong genre. that's kind of it. spies do this shit, and even kill their own allies, all the time in intrigue stories. it doesn't stop it from being dark af, but their genre is all about necessary evils (albeit, those evils are often only "necessary" for the purposes of their countries', or worse, governments', interests). this is a kids' show. …fine, a teenagers' show. this isn't where those themes generally show up. -- "those pros you admire so much play dirtier than guys like me" also dabi is talking out of his ass here but I feel like that's pretty obvious, he's just trying to demoralize tokoyami and company

'''XD fuckin A! a shitload of ice explodes out and knocks toko and hawks free of dabi, and it wasn't todoroki??? it was just some named rando villain with ice powers? I think I vaguely remember him from when pajama boy took over, but I could swear I recall him getting completely thrashed last time -- "I know you did what was right, hawks!" aw 'XD you kinda can't avoid meeting your heroes in this show. such a shame

oh dammit, and now bigfoot's woken up -- OH TOMURA'S HIS MASTER NOW? FUCK 'XD

just realized something. I don't think we've seen deku yet this whole five episodes. …oh wait, no yeah he and the others showed up way at the beginning, they're in the back ranks and out of the fighting. …author get bored of them? 'XD -- oh, speak of the devils

oh shit, the avatar spirits are sensing whatshisfuck waking up. …there was raava, I think, was the blue one. the hell was the red one called? think it also might've started with an R. ryukyu? probably not. rakdos, idfk 'XD

ayyyup. boomboom levels are approaching the lower end of the DBZ scale

okay this OP is wayyy too chill and upbeat for this arc 'XD

(toga's on the move) spah stabbin mah heroes

"it's like I've had them since I was born" ayyyyup, papa's got a brand new bag of tricks to back up his signature moves

"where are you going?" deku: "uh, I forgot something!" yeah sure, you left the stove on in the hospital that looks like piccolo threw a tantrum on it -- "following you? what, you think you're the main character now?" …gawd bakugo is annoying. catch up, mr verbal-abuse-is-my-only-language -- "you're the bait" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA get dusted, ya swaglesss vegeta knockoff

0_0 RYUKYU'S DEAD HE TOUCHED HER. …oh wait, hat n clogs is on the scene. it's a fight. hot damn, but what tricks are chapped komaeda packing now that hat n clogs can't turn off? -- …(finally looks up the bleach character I keep associating aizawa with) …wait this guy's blond. he doesn't even have black hair. …why do I think Aizawa looks like him? even their personalities are completely different, so it's not that

gran torino: "bakugo knows about one for all, right?" yeah, I don't know why they trust him with it either

…goddammit, that was six episodes, I don't WANNA keep going, I should try to sleep! 'XD eh, I'll try to make that gif and post these later (there was a split second where I'm pretty sure an indistinct figure during one of the crowd fighting shots was breakdancing, but fuck it nvm)

[oneshotnewbie]

Loves the story about being Amelia younger sister. Can this came to my mind could you pretty please make this a reality lol. So the reader is Amelia and dereks younger sister ( obviously lol) and she gets sick. But she doesn’t want them to know because they will overreact. So without her telling them that she is sick she ends up getting worse and ends up in the hospital, just for Amelia and Derek to find out . Does that make sense. This came to me late at night lol. Thank you:)

For a few days your well being in your body had been lost. From an initial exhaustion and fatigue, for which you had perceived stress as the main cause to slightly stinging in the chest and body aches that you only stamped as tiredness of the last week, there was a lot going at university; lectures until late in the evening, answering 80 quiz questions daily on top of your homework so that you don't forget what you have learned and the tests you had to write in what felt like every subject you could possibly have.

It was almost midnight when you started to finish up your work. You were the only one in this house, at least you thought so, who was still awake to do things that had no time to be postponed.

"You look pale," did you hear your sisters voice and startled for a second out of shock before you looked at the clock for the 10th time this minute and slowly began to collect the papers and pens from the brown coffee table."Is everything okay?"

You just nodded a 'yes', not even bothering to talk out of feeling sick, and got up from your chair to pile up the papers in the back of the table when a wave of dizziness caught up with you and you used your hands to support yourself. "Just totally stressed." you mumbled as you felt a worrying glance and a hand on your back.

Slowly your vision returned to normal, you picked up your things into your arms and turned to Amelia who was standing right behind you. With an attempted smile, you squeezed past her and walked up the stairs. "I'm good."

Before you went to bed, you stole a pill from the bathroom cabinet and disappeared. -It is just a little cold- you thought.

---

"Y/N Shepard, 22 years young." the paramedic called as soon as the doors were opened from the ambulance and he pulled out the stretcher and got out himself. "According to first responders, she passed out while she was about to order a coffee.. Mild sinus tachycardia, blood pressure is low. Temperature is 102,38°F"

You became conscious before the ambulance arrived, but the people around you didn't agree to let you go and wanted to have you examined and now you were here, the attempt to escape from the mess was unsuccessful.

A little confused, you looked around and saw the faces of Owen and Meredith. Almost immediately, before the blonde could even say something, you cut her out. "Don't tell Amy and Derek."

She stroked your hair and looked at you confused and worried. She didn't understood why you wanted to keep your ambulance arrival a secret from your siblings. Even if she had a medical confidentiality obligation towards her patients, she had to tell her sister in law and husband. They were your family.

She nodded to Owen and he understood immediately that he should beep both of them on their pagers. As soon as he disappeared, Meredith pushed you into one of the examination rooms and started to look you up and down.

"Why don't you want the two of them to know?" she asked cautiously while placing some adhesive stickers on your chest and hanging you on a machine. "You know exactly how they are as soon as I am sick. Overprotective - and that is annoying. I am not a little kid anymore."

She stopped moving and looked at you. Her hands found their way onto your shoulder and squeezed them once just before she sat down in front of you and looked deep into your eyes. "They are your siblings, Y/N. Be glad that you have someone who cares about you."

She stopped for a short time and looked at your heart rate on the monitor before turning to you a little worried, adapting a blood pressure cuff on your arm, waiting for the results to show up on her chart. "You have cardiac arrhythmia. Have you had a cold lately?"

"No, I've just been pretty tired and exhausted. I also had a slight sting in my chest once in a while but thought it came from my stomach; I haven't been eating particularly well lately."

---

"What were you thinking by not telling us that you are not feeling well? You don't have three doctors at your home around the clock for nothing!" said Derek a little louder, his face flashed red like a tomato.

When he got the news, he immediately ran down to the emergency room, fearing the worst. He was pissed of when he saw you lying there and he was even angrier when he had to hear every information from Meredith that she had found out and what she suspected. "And that's exactly why I didn't want you to know. You always overdo it!"

"Y/N, heart muscle inflammation is not a joke! If you had carried off the crap and hadn't passed out in the cafe, it could all have been worse than just a few needle sticks and a comfortable hospital bed!" he shouted in disbelief as his hands clenched into a fist and the knuckles were already turning white at the strength of his nervousness which he underpinned by pacing back and forth in front of your bed.

He didn't understand how you wanted to become a doctor but couldn't listen to your own body. It was impossible for him to understand how you could let it get this far. Derek asked for an answer, but you didn't feel like arguing with him anymore so you just stood silent; you were too tired and exhausted to continue this discussion.

You knew it was a fatal mistake, but you couldn't change and jump back in time either.

Just before Derek wanted to let his anger run free again, Amelia, who had previously been quiet, had stood in front of him and gave him an urgent look and some slight knocks on his now crossed arms. "You go now and calm down. The shouting doesn't help anyone here and I don't think the whole hospital has to know our family issues." he bit his lip and looked between you and your sister before he disappeared, but not without slamming the door behind him.

Startled, you let yourself fall back on the pillow, put your arm over your forehead and closed your eyes. You knew you messed up big time. "I'm sorry, Amelia."

"You should have told us, then you might not be here and have to stay for observation." she said calmly, unlike your brother and started moving towards the side of your bed where Amelia sat down on the chair that was already standing next to it and gently stroked the back of your head.

Amelia understood why you hadn't said anything, she had gone through the same with him too. But on the other hand, she could understand Derek. It also hurt her that you hadn't mentioned anything and that you didn't let her help you. "From now on, no more secrets, understand? I don't want to have this horrible feeling in my stomach when I get a message like that ever again. When you are in pain then let one of us know, regardless of whether you think it is a cramped muscle or not."

"You are so over caring." you said annoyed and rolled your eyes.

You knew it was in their nature to react like that, but as a young adult you couldn't understand that exactly this small gesture showed how important you were to a person. You just found it annoying.

"At some point in your life, you will think back to that moment and judge it completely different. Maybe we are far too caring now, later you will perhaps be grateful to us for it and understand why we do this." she sighed.

"We do this because we love you and we don't ever want to lose you."

[t-h-i-n-g]

hey love! i saw your requests are open and i wondered if you could do a eddie x reader where they dated in high school, but they broke up (in good terms) because the reader went to college, and years later they see eachother again after discovering that eddie is her daughter's music teacher. its totally alright if you cant, but thank you anyway! <3

Mr. Munson

a/n: this idea was so cute. i hope i did you justice 🙇🙇

word count: 1.5k

summary: it's parent teacher conferences for your daughter and the name of her music teacher catches your eye. it was one you never thought you'd here again. one that you thought you left behind in your memories.

warnings: mentions of everything that happens in the show, eddie is alive and well, however it does mention his condition in a hospital, if I missed any let me know!!

st - masterlist m.masterlist

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When you left Hawkins, you left your life behind with it. Your friends, your family, your lover. You left all of them. But you knew it was for the best. After what happened with Vecna and the Upside Down everything just became too much. You didn’t ask for any of it. The blood, the weird bat things, or the naked slimy alien man. None of it. You were nineteen. You had plans. Take a leap year to get some money and head to the community college in your hometown.

But after all of… that. It was too much. The things you saw shouldn’t even have been possible. The things that happened shouldn’t even have been able to happen. Watching your boyfriend get mauled by vampire bats was not on your to-do list for that week and frankly you didn't really know it came with the whole dating agenda thing.

When he was brought to the hospital there was a high chance of him not being able to make it. For six whole days you waited and waited and waited as the monitors and machines beeped and pushed and tired to do something. Tried to get something out of him. To get some sort of relief of stability

Eddie’s torso was wrapped in layers upon layers of bandages. The saddest part of it all was the cuffs that enclosed his wrist to the hospital bed. The fact people still thought he was the monster after all that he himself went through.

On the seventh day you cracked. When Eddie’s uncle came to do his daily visit a doctor had stopped him in the hallway. You stood around the corner hearing how they thought it might be time to start thinking about the high possibility of considering the worst. To start thinking of pulling the plug. With those words your world collapsed.

Your knees hit the floor as a hand covered your mouth. Silent tears flowed down your cheeks from the realization of what this would mean. You wouldn’t be able to see any more of Eddie’s concerts. Or sneak into the drive in movies he wanted to see. Or just lay with him under the stars. No more talking about future plans. No more conversations about as soon as he graduates Hawkins would be left in the both of yours dust. Or just listening to him ramble on quietly about how he’s gonna put a ring on your finger one day…

All those promises and plans were no longer able to be sought through.

So you left. Without a word or note to anyone. You left the hospital and went to your place. Throwing whatever you could into any bag or suitcase you could find and stuffing what you could into the trunk of your car. Slamming the door shut and swerving out of your driveway. You left that town. You left the memories, the people, and the hurt behind with it.

You did end up going to college like you planned. Getting a four year degree as well as a little girl from a fling you had a month before final exams. It was a rollercoaster to get settled down. But you pushed through. You knew it would work out in the end. After everything you went through, you knew you could handle whatever life threw in your way now.

However when you did leave Hawkins you never thought in a million years this is where you would end up 15 years later. Standing in your daughter's 6th grade music class facing the board that had in big bold letters 'Mr. Munson' at the top at her school conferences.

Your brows furrowed at the name. You believed you would never hear it again.

"Mom," a soft voice called to the right of you. Your eyes never left the letters while you responded.

"Yes, honey?"

"Can you come sit, please. He's gonna be here any second." You nodded nonchalantly.

"Just give me a sec, Bel." You scanned around the room. A rather familiar guitar caught your eye. The red and black speckled pattern clung to the wall. "Hey, do you happen to know his first nam-"

The door rushed open. A rather disheaved man entered, folder in hand.

"Hello, hello. So sorry I'm late. The printer wasn't working right. Buttons got jammed." Your body froze as he dropped the papers onto his desk. Passing through them and looking up at who was sitting in front of him. "Isabel! My first student of the night." He smiled and glanced up at you quickly, not taking an official look before going back down to his folder. "And you must be Ms. L/n. Isabel has admired you so much. Talks about how you can play bass all the time. I had a friend back in highschool that was a god at it. Nice to finally meet you Y/-" he stopped in the middle of his sentence. Eyes reading over your name a couple of times for confirmation.

Eddie's head snapped up in your direction. Meeting your wide eyes with his mirroring gaze. Your brows furrowed as you studied his face. His hair was cut, but his curls were still prominent as ever. Lines were printed on his forehead with age. A couple of thin scars ran from his chin to his neck down under his shirts. Most certainly from a claw mark. The all too familiar prominent smile grew on his features.

"E-eddie?" Your voice shook lightly. A breathy chuckle left his lips as he stood. Rounding the corner of his desk.

"Well this was the last place I was expecting to see you again, sugar." A small 'oomph' left your lips as his body connected to yours. Eddie's arms wrapped around you. You did the same clinging to his leather jacket.

"Oh my gosh, I thought you didn't make it out of the hospital," you spoke, muffled by his shoulder.

"Well you didn't stick around to find out," he stated, pulling away but still holding you at arms length by your shoulders. "Where the hell- sorry Isabel- heck did you go? I wake up to you disappearing. Nobody knew where you went off to. For all we knew you were the one that was dead-"

"I know, I know. I left so suddenly. I just couldn't take it, with everything that happened. I was so overwhelmed and afraid. I couldn't stand another second in that town. They were talking about pulling your plug, Eddie. I heard them say it was such a low chance of you surviving, I couldn't take it. And what happened with Ve-" You stammered at his name. Your voice lowering instinctively. "With everything that happened it was just too much. I couldn't take it. I ditched Hawkins. I ditched all the wacky shit with it too." Eddie scanned your face, taking in every word you said. Finally he nodded.

"I get it. Not in a million years would I think Hawkins, the most boringest town ever, would hold so many secrets. I did the same as you. I left as soon as my tria…" he paused, eyeing Isabel to the side. Who was waiting patiently. He gave you a look, a hand of his sliding down the side of your arm gently. "Actually how about we catch up sometime later. Little Miss Superstar's waiting." You looked over to her, giving her a meek smile for the fact you got so distracted.

"Of course, yes," you agreed, moving to sit next to Isabel as Eddie took his seat across from you.

"Alright, so, first off she did so well in our round-about music unit. Especially with the Ukulele, best player in the class…"

–

"I still can't believe it," he mumbled leaning onto the side of the door. "Y/n L/n, here in the flesh and with a kid. Such a talented one for that fact. Must run in the family." Eddie nudged your foot with his as you giggled softly, looking over to Bel who was talking to one of her classmates. Sophie was her name, you're pretty sure.

"Yeah, I'd say I did a good job raising her." Eddie quirked a brow.

"Just you or…?"

"Just me. I wasn't able to find her dad after I found out that I was pregnant." He hummed in response.

"Is it still just you? Is there anyone you're seeing?" Eddie asked subtly. Your smile grew slyly.

"Why? Do you wanna ask me for a date, Munson?" His expressions mirrored yours.

"You know what they say, second times the charm." You tilted your head.

"I thought it was the third time?" He shook his head in dismissal.

"No, no I'm sure it's second." You broke out into a fit of giggles as he joined in. Once the both of you were calmed down he spoke once more. "I've missed you alot, Y/n," he admitted softly. Bringing a hand up to brush his fingers against your cheek lightly.

"I've missed you too, so much," you stated just as gently as he did. "Only if you want to, I would be more than happy to take up that offer for a date," you mumbled.

"Of course, there's a little cafe across town that has the best bagels. I can treat you to it if you'd like?" he offered.

"Yeah. Yeah that sounds great." You nodded. You reached into your purse, pulling out a pen and paper to give him your current number.

"Is the Eddie Munson finally getting some?" Sophie's mom questioned to another parent beside her. They turned to look at the encounter.

"Thank God," they muttered. "I'm sick and tired of seeing Diane flirt with him at school meetings. Every single god damn time."

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