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beeandheroddobsessions · 1 year

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Drop It!

Warnings: Supernatural elements. Dead!Elvis. Reader’s father is dead. Reader denotes elvis to his face. Dilapidated Graceland.

Summary: It’s move-in day! Reader spends the day fixing up the house. By the end of the night, she just wants to relax but something, or someone, needs to talk to her.

A/N: I am fully aware that graceland is cared for and not at all in ruin but the story calls for it. I put a lot of thought into this series and i really want everyone to enjoy it! The story is inspired by my house and what it’s like living here. though i’ve never come face to face with my goulish friends, i do respect them. A small bit, while comical, is something i actually did experience. Granted, i never spoke to anyone, or at least, never got an audible response. Most of this series includes odd happenings that i’ve dealt with. Isn’t that fun? Non-beliver or not, i hope you enjoy it. Happy reading- Bee💕

September 2023

The keys resting in your palms bring nothing but joy, even after dealing with a snippy mother and grumbling movers on an overcast Thursday afternoon. It should've been alarming, the way that realtor hightailed it off the property, but you were just glad to get your hands on what once was a beautiful home.

Graceland had nearly fallen to ruin; once the previous owner's legacy began to deteriorate, so did respect for the house. Squatters, Drug dealers, vandals, this house has seen it all. Yet, under all that muck and destruction, you saw a chance to restore its beauty.

Your mother was a bit...perturbed by the decision, wondering what she had done in your childhood that could've led to this point. When the idea was first pitched, she laughed it off, assuming it was another one of your odd bouts, like it was some fairytale. So imagine her surprise when you tossed the paperwork onto the breakfast table.

Your mother's concerns only doubled when she actually saw the house. Move-in day is supposed to be exciting, and for you, it is. Pushing past the doors into your new home is something magical. You don't know where to start. The kitchen? The front room? Upstairs? It's all so tempting.

"Mama, this place, it's so beautiful. Doesn't it jus' make you wanna cry?" You exclaim, unable to contain the excitement rushing through your body.

"...That's...well, that's one way to put it." your mother says, watching for possible loose beams as you traverse through the house.

You kiss your teeth at her tone and begin rattling on about your ideas for the space.

"I can fix her up in no time. We can start with the walls; they only need a few patches and a fresh coat a' paint. Oh! And then we can work on the floors. And I'm sure we can find some replicas or have 'em made. I think-"

"Y/n!" your mother interrupts, "Rome wasn't built in a day, baby. Don't get too ahead of yourself. You already broke the bank buyin' this...place and-"

You shake your head "Mama, don't you know who used to live here? Daddy woulda-"

The older woman before you holds up her hand, face dropping into an unamused expression. "Don't compare me to your daddy; we never did have the same tastes. And of course, I know; Elvis was my crush before you were even thought of."

You tilt your head, shifting to move a box. "But you just said you n' daddy didn’t have the same-"

She cuts you off before you can finish your thought. "Hush up and listen to your mama." A chuckle leaves your mouth as she scolds you.

"After all this time, daddy still can't catch a break?"

Your mother lets out a saddened sigh, "Well, he may not be here physically, but pokin' fun at him is the only way I know he's still around."

Your shoulders drop, and you set the box down. Your father passed away six years ago; he didn't want his family knowing he was sick. You thought it was a cruel joke, some twisted prank set to traumatize you forever. The wails your mother let out that night on the kitchen floor told you otherwise. She tries to pretend but hasn't been the same since—the idea of remarrying tossed to the wind like a dandelion's pappi.

"Mama, don't you think daddy would've wanted you to let him go?" you lament, hoping your mother would consider it this time. But, alas, the notion is shot down once again.

"You may not believe in ghosts or the afterlife, y/n, but I do. Your daddy is always with me. It wouldn't be right to get hitched in his face."

You shrug and continue unpacking, "If you say so mama, I jus couldn't imagine stickin' it out till the very end." That statement seems to tickle your mama pink. "You ain't never been in love, sugar pie. When you meet your mister right, you'll know what I mean."

You purse your lips. Even while talking about her dead husband, she hints at your sad love life. To you, love is just a feeling, and the dead are just that, dead. So your mother's musings about 'ghosts' and 'true loves' are nothing short of fantasy in your world.

"O...kay. Well, we've got a lot to do, and we've been talkin' bout nothin' for ten whole minutes. Let's hop to it!"

Your mother rolls her eyes, "This ain't my dream house, honey. I ain't GOT to do nothin' but stay black and die."

"Oh, here you go with that mess. You agreed to help your only baby move in so that I wouldn't 'die in my sleep cause some spider decided to munch on me,' so don't give me none of that." You mock.

Your mother pops your arm and grabs a broom. "You yo' daddy's daughter, alright. Couldn't have got that mouth from me." She mutters.

For the next four hours, the two of you dispose of odd findings, scrub, wash, disinfect, and grumble through the house. By the time you finish, the home is as clean as clean gets. The sun has set, and all you want to do is eat and sleep. The last thing to set up is the bedroom.

You feel a little strange sleeping in a room that once belonged to such a legend, but he isn't here, and the house belongs to you. The wall of TVs would be dealt with later. For now, a flatscreen was simply placed in front of them; aside from that, you pre-ordered replicas of the bedroom furniture, not wanting to personalize too much.

After kissing your mother goodbye, you trudge up the stairs, stopping halfway to crack your back. Once you return to the master suite, flopping on the bed only seems fitting. A groan escapes you as you realize you still need to shower. Rolling over, you grab a towel from your suitcase, lay out some pajamas on the center of the bed, and head for the bathroom.

While waiting for the water to warm, perched on the porcelain throne, the lights flicker. You'll need to replace the bulbs later; simple fix.

When the water reaches hell, you waste no time jumping in. It soothes your aching body, and all of the tension from today washes down the drain. You hum a nonsensical tune to keep you entertained while you clean away the dirt and grime. In the middle of the improvised song, a crash steals your attention.

You finish rinsing and shut off the water, quickly making your way to the bedroom door. You aren't going to investigate; too bright (or too experienced in the horror genre) to even give that a thought. No, you lock the door and mind your business; that is a morning problem.

When you turn back to retrieve your nightwear, you find them on a chair in the corner of the room. Odd. You could've sworn you left them in the middle of the bed. Whatever, you think as you throw them on.

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, you grab the remote and turn the TV on—finally, a moment of peace. You flick through Netflix, desperate to find good background noise. Landing on your favorite show, 'The Good Place,' is enough for you. It's ironic, don't believe in anything after death, or love, and here you are, watching two dead people fall in love.

Halfway through Episode six, the source of entertainment shuts off. You huff; it was getting good too. The remote is behind you, out of reach, so you aren't exactly sure what could've caused this.

"Probably just a glitch," you mumble, turning the TV back on and resuming your minor addiction. This time, you place the remote on the dresser, ensuring no interruptions.

Despite your effort, it happens again; A guttural noise leaves your body. You're broke in a house that's falling apart with no man, pets, and no energy. TV is the one pleasure you have left, and even that is beginning to frustrate you.

Repeating the process, you hold the remote in your hands, eyebrows raised, daring your peace to try and leave again. After a few moments, you sigh in relief as the halfway point passes and set the remote down. As soon as it comes in contact with the plush, black comforter, the TV again fails you.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." You exclaim.

"Ladies shouldn't swear; ain't attractive." A voice bellows from behind you. A shrill shriek is all that is heard as you scramble off the bed. Your eyes search for the source but find nothing. Slowly, you creep toward the bed and snatch up the remote. "Can't go downstairs till morning, and I'm losin' it in here. What a night." You whisper.

A shiver rolls through your body, and you decide it's better to sit on the floor. Again you try with your tv (which you will be returning in the morning), and of course, that doesn't last long.

"Sugarpie, I don't wanna see that junk. If you're gon' watch somethin' in my bed, I suggest it be somethin' good. Not some trash show that don't know the first thing bout bein' dead." The strange voice booms again.

This time when you jump out of your skin and turn to face the intruder, you see what you can only assume to be the world's most accurate Elvis impersonator.

"What the hell are you doin' in my house?!" You screech, "Get out! Get the hell out."

The man before you is nowhere near ready for the projectiles flying his way. Clothes, shoes, books, and a stuffed bear. You name it; it's flying at his head.

"Hey! I—I said—, goddamn! You got an arm on ya! Put the—,"

Elvis can't even finish his sentence as you continue to fling whatever you can at him.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House!" You grunt, each word punctuated with the throw of an object. The tall, blue-eyed stranger ducks and dodges with precision, but when he sees you getting ready to toss a picture frame, one you no doubt failed to realize the importance of in your defensive state, the fun and games stop.

"Drop it! Drop that damn picture right now! Your mama would tan your hide for days if she saw that you broke that frame." Elvis booms.

Your chest is heaving, and you blink, glancing over at the photo.

"S'your daddy, right? Y'all were talkin' in the kitchen bout how it's the last thing he gave ya. You promised ta take care of it. So drop it."

You nod and gently place the photo on the bed, reaching for a good substitute.

"Jus—Just how long have you been here?" you question, ready to launch the lamp in your hand. Elvis ponders for a moment. "What year is it?" He asks, seeming genuine. You quirk an eyebrow, unamused with the game he's playing. "You can't be serious."

He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an actual answer. Your phone is across the room, and the chances of getting past this psycho-wannabe Elvis are slim to none. So, you entertain him. "It's twenty-twenty-three, you should know that." You say, face stoic.

Elvis's eyes widen, "Twenty- Good lord!" He chuckles in disbelief.

"Well, to answer your question lil' mama, if that's true, I've been here for sixty-six years if you're countin' when I bought the house."

You shake your head; there's no way the idiot in front of you is this dedicated. "Yeah, sure, I reckon you want me to believe you're Elvis Presley himself. Is that what this is? Some attempt to scare me?"

Elvis chuckles and shakes his head, "No, ma'am. Ain't no pretendin' round here. I'm the real deal."

You can't help the cackle that slips past your lips.

"My ass!"

Elvis's smirk fades, "I told ya that shit isn't cute. And if ya don't believe me, try to shake my hand." He says, extending the appendage forward.

You scrunch your nose, "Now, why would I do that?"

He shrugs, hand still held out.

"Well, I ain't goin' nowhere for a long time n' you're the first person to see or hear me in ages. Whether ya do or don't, it really ain't too concernin' for me."

You sigh, knowing this is how dumb girls in movies usually meet their end. Can't believe m'doin' this. Shakily, you extend your hand, and when it meets his, it goes right through. You gasp as the limb turns to smoke before materializing again.

"Sweet jesus," you sputter.

"I wouldn't know if he was sweet, I ain't met him yet." Elvis jokes. You back away, very spooked.

"T-This, this isn't possible. Ghosts they—they aren't-"

"Real?" Elvis cuts you off, "Yeah, I heard that part too, jus didn't wanna scare your mama, so I waited till it was jus you n' me."

You scoff, offended, "My mama gets a pass, and I don't?"

He chuckles and sits on the bed, "She believed, you didn't. For someone with a gift this great, ya sure do love ta act like ya don't know what she's talkin' about."

You fold your arms, looking down, "I don't have-"

"Oh, yes ya do. Don't give me none of that. I spent the whole afternoon chit-chattin' with your old man. "

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. "You spoke to my daddy? How is he? Did he ask bout mama? Because she'd be thrilled. I gave up. I knew I shouldn't have. I'd been tryin' to reach him since he died, but he never-" The smug look on Elvis's face shuts you up.

"Well, first off. Why would ya need to call a man who's in the same house as ya? Second, you'd been tryin' so hard to find happiness for a woman who don't need it, that ya pushed your daddy away anytime he tried. A ghost can only do so much without scarin' someone half to death, baby."

This is all too much; Ghosts exist, Elvis Presley is in front of you, and your daddy hasn't moved on. Mama was right. You lift the covers and shimmy under them.

"I need to sleep on this. Jus—I...I don't know where you go, but scram for the night please."

Elvis chuckles, nodding. In a flash, he evaporates, fumes left behind as he finds another room to settle in.

You breathe through your nose as you think. What a night indeed, miss y/n.

Taglist: @prayerstopresley @powerofelvis @re3kin

#beeandheroddobsessions #70s elvis x reader #elvisaaronpresley #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis x black reader #elvis fic #austin!elvis presley x reader #ghost!Elvis #black writblr #black readers #black reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #black writers

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writing-rat · 3 months

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The Secret Admirer

Pairings: Tori x Jade

Content: Just fluff

Summary: Tori has a secret admirer but she doesn't know who it is fully until the date...

It had been 5 months since Tori had entered Hollywood Arts and she couldn’t be happier. She had a few new friends too which she loved. There was Cat, Jade, Beck, Robbie (Rex included), Andre and even Sinjin. She didn’t mind that. In fact, she loved it. Beck and Jade broke up too but no one knew why. Beck wasn’t saying anything and neither was Jade.

Tori was currently with Beck and Andre as they were smoking weed together in Beck’s RV as they were all on the couch, Tori in between them. They were watching ‘The Breakfast Club’ as they were all passing a blunt between each other, each teen having a Dr Pepper as they took a sip too. “God, Allison is so hot. I would do anything for her,” Tori stated after a few minutes of her just being on screen. Andre smirked while Beck just laughed. “Fair enough Tors,” Andre spoke as he leaned back. “So, if I can ask, what is your sexuality?” he asked curiously. “Lesbian,” she spoke with a shrug. “So we can talk about girls? Nice,” Beck responded and Tori smiled. She felt validated.

That’s when they continued to watch ‘The Breakfast Club’ before they all decided to nap right there.

“Beck! I need your ad-” Tori heard before she woke up. She yawned as she opened her eyes, looking over as Andre was still fast asleep, Beck waking up at least. “Oh. Hey Vega,” Jade spoke, crossing her arms. “Get out. I need to talk to Beck alone,” she added. Tori nodded, shrugging. She understood. That’s when she stood outside, wondering what was going on inside. She wouldn’t look, however. She was respectful like that.

Eventually, the door opened and Tori was allowed inside. She was thankful for that as the 4 of them were also soon hanging out.

It had been a week after that incident and Jade was being… nicer? Tori honestly thought she was sick because of how she was acting but decided to not dwell on it as it wasn’t really her business. She had opened her locker when a note started to fall out. Tori was confused as she picked it up, soon reading what it read. ‘Meet me at Nozu at 5 pm. From your secret admirer’ it read. She sighed as she walked over to the lunch table, mulling it over. She was unsure if she should or not. It could be someone dangerous or a creep. Since it was only Monday, she had the whole week to dread it.

“Hello,” everyone said at the table as she arrived. “Hey,” she spoke, tired as she was getting her lunch out, ready to eat.

“What’s got you so tired?” Andre asked. “Because I got a secret letter and I don’t know who from,” Tori responded, practically groaning, before she laid it out to rest. “What sort of loser would do that?” Jade commented, being her usual self. “Thank you,” Tori responded sarcastically. Jade just sent a sassy smirk, not missing the look that Beck gave her. Tori did miss it though.

“Well, if you go, we can help you out, we can watch from a distance,” Beck spoke. Tori nodded and concluded she would go then.

Tuesday and there was another note. It read ‘You know me. You don’t know what I am like really. I love the way you act so confident, that you don’t need to put on an act’ the note read. Tori sighed as she read it before she started to put the letter in her bag, trying to think of who it could be now that she read it. She honestly couldn’t wait for the next one, not that she would say.

Wednesday and another note as expected. She was noticing a trend though, giving information about a certain person and then what they love about her. ‘I am a female. I like your comedy and how you can act like anything.’ Tori was trying to think who it was. Jade had also been acting nicer to her that lunch, teasing her, sure but not in a mean way. It was confusing. She shrugged it off though.

Thursday and she was excited for her note again, this time Beck was with her. She opened her locker up and a note fell out. She immediately grabbed it as Beck read it from her shoulder. ‘Black coffee is life and I will always want it. I like how resilient you are’ the final note read. “Who do you think it is?” Beck asked, looking at Tori. Tori groaned and shrugged.

“All I can think of is Jade but she doesn’t like me at all!” Tori whined. Beck just chuckled.

“Fair enough,” he spoke before he went to lunch with her. Jade had gotten Tori’s lunch which Tori was surprised and suspicious about it. She was shocked, however, when nothing was wrong with it. Jade also had a black coffee, not that Tori noticed.

It was the final day and she finally got the final note and was meeting up with the girl later where she conveniently had the date with Jade previously. ‘We previously went to Nozu together. I like your locker, and I love whenever we talk’ it read. Tori was biting her lip, thinking about who she went with. The only people she could think of were Cat and Jade but she couldn’t see Cat liking her. She had gone with Jade and was forced when she last went on a date. That’s when it all clicked. She would not confront yet however, she would see at Nozu but she was 99.99% sure it was Jade.

After a few hours, it was an hour to the date and she was nervous, considering what to wear. She still wanted to look nice, but casual after all. That’s when she decided to wear a skirt and a nice crop top she owned. Eventually, she went down, seeing how Trina was away. She was doing god knows what, but she was doing something. She didn’t care, however. She just wanted to make Jade blush as well. She started her walk to Nozu, happy it was only a 15-minute walk. She had on some trainers though. She had put on some headphones and listened to some punk music before walking over however, not liking silent walks. She always needed music on after all.

Eventually, she arrived and walked in, spotting Cat, Beck, Robbie, Rex and Andre as well as Sikowitz? She would ask later. Jade meanwhile was at a separate table and waved over Tori. Tori walked over immediately, putting her phone and earbuds into her bag before she sat down. “Hello,” she spoke. “You are the sacred admirer I assume then?” she spoke with a smirk.

“Yes, I am. So what?” Jade spoke, not letting her walls down. “Well… I want to know the real you then,” Tori spoke, crossing her arms. “You said it yourself. I don’t know what you actually are like,” Tori added. Jade was shocked before she nodded, thinking. She trusted her more now. She was happy enough.

“What would you like to order?” the waitress asked.

“Spicy tuna roll,” Jade responded.

“California roll please,” Tori spoke with a soft smile. “And drinks?” she asked.

“Pepsi,” Jade spoke, still monotone.

“Lemonade for me,” Tori spoke and the waitress nodded before leaving. “So… what do I not know about you?” Tori asked, smiling at her. “By the way, you look nice. You should wear ripped jeans more,” she hummed out. She saw Jade visibly blush before she responded. “You don’t know about my pet snake, Moxie,” she spoke. Tori smiled.

She was eager to get to know her more…

#jori #ratboy writing #ratboy writes #victorious #tori x jade #jade x tori #tori vega #jade west #jade west x tori vega #tori vega x jade west

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yeonjunszn · 11 months

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ASAP! — NINE

PAIRING! mark lee x f!reader

SUMMARY! you’re not exactly the best barista at zhong coffee, but for some unknown reason (his massive crush on you), mark thinks you can do no wrong. sick and tired of his favoritism and your lack thereof due to absolute obliviousness, your coworkers are determined to fix this problem. asap.

MORE! first written part let’s go

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To be completely honest, Mark was kind of dreading Thursday.

The bigger, better part of him was excited to get the opportunity to teach you some of the tips he received when he was first starting out as a barista at Zhong Coffee. He was looking forward to seeing that cute little quirk of your brows whenever one of your shots wouldn’t pull, and then watching it smooth out when he helped you adjust the grinder.

When you were first hired at Zhong Coffee, he was only a shift lead and Chenle’s older brother was still manager, so he never trained you. (This was before he left to pursue his big boy job.) The shop ran differently and the environment wasn’t as relaxed. Mr. Zhong’s ideals have always matched up with Mark’s, so it was no surprise to anyone that he was named manager afterward.

He likes to think you never got the opportunity to grow confident in your job because you were too scared to ask questions. Chenle’s older brother was a stricter manager and his training wasn’t as personal. Mark assumed that disconnection is a chunk of the reason why you’ve always struggled to figure things out.

But then there was this tiny, ugly part of him deep inside that reminded him of Choi Yeonjun’s existence. It reminded him that there were other men who were equally as drawn to you as he was and he couldn’t stomach the idea that one day, one of those men just might sweep you off of your feet.

That part kept winning no matter how many times he tried to push it away.

When Mark arrives at Zhong Coffee at around 6:15 Thursday morning, he has to hold his breath and bite his tongue. The shop opens at 7 am every morning, but on days when it receives product, it gets dropped off at around 4:45, so those scheduled to stock go in at 5 that day and then continue with their morning shift as usual.

He’d nearly forgotten you were going to stock with Jeno before your training, so it felt like a punch in the gut when he saw the male standing so close to you as you put the syrups on top of the bars. You giggled at a joke he made, not paying any mind to the fact that Mark was openly staring at both of you. Jeno wasn’t even funny.

It’s when he trips over a box on his way to his office, that you finally look away from the unnecessarily buff barista. Mark blinks, standing up right and letting out an awkward laugh as he dusts his hands on his pants.

“Are you okay?” You ask with so much concern in your eyes, it genuinely hurts Mark’s heart.

“I’m good! Don’t worry about me! Finish up your stock so you can take a little break before the new hires get here for training.” He says, words coming out a little too fast and pulse beating a little too hard.

He sits in his office in complete silence for what feels like years, his focus on a blank computer screen as he processes just how down bad he is for you. It doesn’t help when he hears the softest of knocks at the door at around 6:45 and he knows it’s you. He calls out for you to come in and you do, a paper sleeve with the shop’s logo in your grasp.

“I didn’t know if you’d eaten yet this morning, so I warmed up a couple croissants for us,” you tell him shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want the plain or the chocolate one?”

And this is why Mark has the world’s biggest crush on you. You had such a pure soul, too kind for this cruel society. You always thought of others first and yourself last, not caring if it meant that you’d get the last cookie in the batch— or if you got one at all. You thrived off the happiness of everyone around you and it was something he admired so fondly.

“I know you really like the chocolate ones, so I’ll take the plain.” He answers, smiling when you take a bite of your croissant, savoring the pastry.

When all of the new hires arrive for their first day of training, Mark realizes that a group training was probably the worst idea he’d ever come up with. It feels more like a show and tell than a manager teaching new employees how to do certain tasks. It was worse when you factored in Choi Yeonjun and his stupidly beautiful lips. (How Donghyuck thought this guy was mid was beyond him. He wondered what he truly thought of him.)

Mark has to stop himself from huffing like a petulant child when all the trainees partner up and take turns trying out the bar. Of course, Choi Yeonjun asked you to be his partner, because why wouldn’t he? Yeonjun was shots and you were his milk, but his shots kept pulling too short, so he asked you for help.

“Hey Y/n, can you help me adjust the grind?”

“Um, I don’t really know how to do that myself… I always just ask Mark to do it for me.” You shrug, turning around and giving him a lopsided smile.

He pretends that it’s just the two of you when he comes over, pointing at the machine. “Okay, do you know why the shots are pulling short?”

“It’s because the grind is too coarse right?” You ask hopefully. Mark nods with a bit of pride swelling in his chest.

“Yes, exactly. So we want it to be finer, that way the espresso runs through a little slower. You’re gonna push the lever away from you— righty tighty, lefty loosey— and then you also want to make sure you’re tamping with the right amount of pressure.” He explains, watching as you do what he told you.

You stick the tip of your tongue out of the corner of your mouth as you concentrate on tamping the grind. When the shot pulls at a perfect 22 seconds, you squeal, fist bumping the air.

“Oh my god! Mark! I’ve never pulled a 22 before!” You slap your forehead, over the moon with joy.

“Which way does the lever go when it’s pulling short?” He quizzes you, the smile on his face not disappearing.

“To the right! Away from me!”

“Good job, Y/n. I’m proud of you.” He pats the top of your head.

You look up at him with this gleam in your eyes as you say, “Thank you so much! You’re the best ever!”

Mark thinks his heart might’ve stopped that day.

NINE — the best ever

PREV! eight — mark antis 1 - mark 0

NEXT! ten — NANEUN ALCOHOL-FREE GEUNDE CHWIHAE

MASTERLIST!

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TAGLIST! @stardusthyuck @erin-calling @tddyhyck @bigheadchen @choiwonder @neozon3nha @sunflowerbebe07 @kissesfrmwonwoo @miyawwn @sserafimez @haechansbbg @lilyidk03 @mowchiie @jaemsrina

#nct #nct smau #nct social media au #nct socmed au #nct mark x reader #nct mark smau #mark lee x reader #mark lee smau #mark lee social media au #mark x reader #mark smau #mark social media au #yeonjunszn #asap.mark❕

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feariteriu · 1 year

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𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 | one

Series MasterList — Miles Morales x Reader

Thursday, November 3rd, 2019

important note: y/n was originally black (seeing as i’m black) but i changed it so everyone could read the story

"𝗠𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿."

Is a quote I've heard one too many times in my life time but never could sympathize with. Most people don't want to kill.

They want to be good.

The thing is, until the time comes, you have no idea what you might kill for. Family. Money. Power.

Love.

You never know what could happen, what will change your entire perspective. You never know what kind of person you could become.

I never thought I'd be one of those people.

So how did I end up here?

▂︎▂︎▂︎▂︎

"𝙐𝙂𝙃, 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝙄𝙏?"

Waking up that morning the sun's rays shine down on you pulling you from your deep sleep. Turning to your blaring alarm clock you groan into your hands.

"Holy fuck I'm tired."

Tapping snooze you roll on your back and just stare at the dark ceiling above you contemplating every decision in your life and wondering how you got here.

Was it worth it. Could you risk it all and skip your first day? You could say you were sick, that you weren't feeling well. Your period?

Who were you kidding none of that would work. You would have to be bleeding out on the floor about to take your last breath for your mother to let you skip school, let alone, your first day.

Your fogged thoughts washed away once the reality of today hits you. It was your first day going to that new school with Miles. A school that you weren't all that excited about going to. Very obvious right?

Not that you didn't want to see Miles of course you did, when didn't you. It was the school you were worried about a new place you had to navigate and learn, sounded like so much work.

Too much work.

You wouldn't call yourself a lazy person but lazy people always denied what they truly were, lazy. Rolling back over towards your nightstand you grab your phone and check the time, 5:45 am read in bold white lettering.

You hated getting up so early in the morning. But you got up at this time to ensure you had time to get ready for school. Miles was on your ass all week about making a good impression on those fucks at that new school. Like any of that mattered. It didn't, it doesn't matter.

You could hear the words he said to you just yesterday.

'Y/n new school, new rules! We gotta be cool!'

'How you bout to say that and expect us to be cool?'

Who cares about what people think half of those guys are going to be future gas station attendants. The whole popularity thing was just pathetic and sad. You're so glad you outgrew that phase in your life.

But let's not think about that now.

Let's think about all the stuff you have to do just for school. Shower, brush your teeth, wash your face, do your hair and you didn't have to worry about picking clothes out seeing as you wore the same uniform every day.

Something you were totally excited about.

This school just got worse and worse with every thought.

Checking the time you see that you're cutting it close. You promised Miles you would meet him at his house before school so you could walk there together.

He wanted you there for him on his first day. He would never admit it to you, or himself, but he was scared, no. Terrified to go to a new school and the only thing that eased his mind was you by his side. Just the thought of seeing him made you smile a cheesy grin like you were some Disney channel character, damn you loved him. I mean you're losing sleep time for him that should say a lot.

Pulling your still-asleep body from your warm bed phone in hand you head to the bathroom.

"Another day another slay..."

"Miles."

A distant voice said his name it could be heard from the boy's bedroom door but he was too busy listening to his favorite song sunflower.

"Needless to say I uhh, she was bad bad, ouuuu ouu somethings you just can't confuse. She wanna ride me like a cruise, and I'm not tryna lose aye-aye!"

She couldn't help but smile looking at the boy jamming out in the chair, art supplies piled up on his small desk. He's been singing this song for two weeks and he still can't get it right.

He embarrassingly messed up another line and it's then the girl decides she's heard enough.

Y/N walks into the room and takes it all in, it was a mess but that's just Miles for ya. If she didn't tell him to hurry up they would be late for school. It's not like it would be the first time but it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Miles," The girl called out to him, no response. It's not like she expected one he was in the zone. Looking over his shoulder she saw what had his attention, he was working on a new piece in his art book coloring away with vibrant loud colors.

His work was always so great. She never understood why he never believed in himself. He's great, why can't he see it too?

Y/N knew calling his name repeatedly wouldn't work so, she tried a different approach.

Walking up peering over him she moves one of the speakers off his ear, and whispers, "Miles~" That one action got him out of his seat and onto his feet. She couldn't stop the laughter that followed and once she saw the blush on his cheeks it just intensified.

"Y-Y/N!?"

How much did she hear? What did she see? WHY DID HE NEVER LOCK HIS DOOR? He should know better. Miles's mind instantly goes to the incident of last year. Y/n walking in on him and her scream was still fresh on his mind.

His body cringed in remembrance.

"You couldn't hear me the first time I said your name so don't look at me like that," You said with more rising laughter. Clasping your hands together you rolled on the balls of your feet, a feverish grin on your cheeks.

The boy stared at you, red in the face. Did you really hear all of that? He was never living that down. Especially the singing god knows how bad he sounded and he wasn't even singing the lyrics right. And that was a fact he would admit to no one but himself.

You see, here's the thing. Miles has had a thing for you since you were kids. It started with the I'm going to marry you when we're older to, wow Y/n looks really good with those fresh braids.

He slowly started to notice the little details about you. Like how your nose scrunches and your brows fro when you see something you dislike, or how your voice gets louder and louder when you tell a story that makes you excited.

The shine your eyes would get when you eat your favorite food. The sass you give when someone says something you disagree with.

The way your eyes glimmer and your entire face lights up when you speak about the things you love. You have so much passion and excitement flowing out of you and he has no other words for it but beautiful, just beautiful.

It was the little things. And he loved them.

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna finish packing your bag? You're gonna make us late on our first day."

Your hard voice rips him from his thoughts. He looks over to his suitcase. Then back at you, like it would magically pack itself. And you knew he hated that school but there was nothing you could do to help him with that fact.

He can't just skip school, you know? Have you met his parents?

"Do I have to?"

You frowned, "Was that a serious question?"

Groaning in annoyance he makes his way over to his bed and starts packing. Slowly, he took his time without a care in the world about being late or early.

You sat back on his bed legs dangling down swinging back in forth as you watched him. You soon without even realizing start looking at his face smiling softly.

"Y'know, I don't get it. You told me to be here bright and early so we can be there on time and you're not even dressed yet."

Miles's eyes find yours, "What's wrong with your face?" He said that instead of letting himself notice the way your smile makes him feel. Ignoring what you said entirely opting for some witty banter.

"What do you mean?"

"You're smiling like a lunatic."

Your mouth falls open, "Shut up! Just pack!" Pulling out your phone you turn away from him muttering insults under your breath annoyed now, he goes back to packing chuckling at the reaction he got out of you.

Whenever you get embarrassed it was rare but he would take his wins when he could because they were like a once-in-a-blue-moon event he just could never miss.

And then he heard the one voice that never fails to make his blood chill. He hears his dad's voice down the hall.

"MILES?!"

"YEAH?" He choked out scared.

You smirked. As he should be.

"ARE YOU FINISHED PACKING FOR SCHOOL!?"

His panicked eyes find yours and you give him a 'don't look at me look' putting your hands up in defense, "Yeah ... ?" He squeaked out and raced to fill his suitcase he didn't even try to sound convincing. When it came to Mr. Jefferson you could make Miles do anything, that man was scary.

You just sat back and watched him, a dopey grin on your lips you couldn't help but shake your head and let out a small laugh watching the boy trip over the messy things in his room that he never cares to clean.

And every time you see the poor boy he's stressing over something never on time for anything. He got enmeshed in his head and ran over to his uniform, on the floor discarded without care.

He always got caught up in something, like he was in his own little world.

And it's too late when he pulls his shirt over his head and his pants down his legs.

Yes, you were unsettled, yet all you could do was watch as he dressed in his school clothes it wasn't the first time he undressed in front of you, you've known this boy since he was getting potty trained.

Ya'll used to take baths together. A little skin wasn't going to scare you. I mean it's all good as long as he doesn't pull his draws off and starts swinging his dick around like a barbarian.

It wasn't until he tripped over his shoes reaching for his phone that he noticed you were still present in his room.

"Y/N???"

"Yeah?" You said out casually looking down at your nails in false thought. Your other arm crossed over your chest, "Hm, I need to get my nails redone..." You started playing into the joke muttering nail colors and the style you wanted under your breath.

"I want to get my nails done in an oval shape but like what color? I was thinking of getting the Hailey Bieber nails, what'd you think?"

He gestures to his closed door, wide eyes in disbelief why the hell were you just sitting there talking about your nails with him?? You look over to his door still not seeing the problem, well you did but he didn't need to know that.

"What." You gave him a poker face, really good at masking your emotions. On the outside you looked unbothered but on the inside, your laughter was about to burst like a broken dam.

"Y/N I'm half-naked," Miles says eyes wide.

What was happening?

You lean forward propping your head on your hand a smirk skillful making its way on your face. "Oh, that? Are you embarrassed or something?" You say teasing the boy. Not caring at all about him being shirtless you push him further testing his limits.

You couldn't help it, you loved teasing him you knew what it did to him. The sweaty palms, stuttering in his sentences it was so cute to watch him fumble and fall apart. And it was so easy to accomplish.

His mouth opened than closed. Like a gaping fish, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. You were going to be the death of him one day, truly.

Were you being serious right now?

You both sat there for a bit, both unmoving until the situation wasn't fun anymore. You rolled your eyes with a loud groan sitting up your long hair falls over your shoulders, it frames your face just right. "Okay, Okay. Fine, I'm not looking. You're no fun." You fake a pout and turn from Miles all you can hear is the large sigh he released once your eyes were out of his sight.

Peaking your eyes open you're faced with his back and you can hear his breathing becoming erratic, he was nervous. But why? Was it really that bad for him? "You okay?" You asked anyways even though you knew he would be fine.

"YUP." He wasn't. His best friend, his crush just watched him undress, how could he be okay?? But then the best friend aspect outweighed the crush part and he was gonna get you back.

Somehow...

He hurried and finished dressing, pulling his blazer over his curly locs he rushes for his book back shoving one last book in it, and opening his door, not before turning back to you and telling you he was ready to go.

"Come on dumbass let's go."

You smack his shoulder in response on your way out. Yeah right. You were the dumbass. Boy quit playing.

It was hectic.

Everyone was running around the house looking for something or doing something, his mother was working on a soup that Miles desperately wanted to get a taste of. He couldn't because he didn't have the time because he was so caught up in his art.

And he has only himself to blame.

His father looked like he was running late as well but when wasn't he?

Your eyes found Miles rushing around the room, "Where's my laptop? Have you seen my laptop??" You look over at his laptop shaking your head. Disappointed but not surprised.

"If you want me to drive you we have to leave now."

It seemed like the whole family was late for something but then again when weren't they? The Morales household was always crazy if it were to be calm one day that would be a red flag in your eyes.

And you? Where did you fit in all this? Well, for now, you sat back and watched it unfold. You went to the same school as Miles since a week ago the school wasn't what you expected a large capacity was "gifted" which you couldn't say for your old school.

"No, no, no dad I'll walk."

"Personal chauffeur going once!"

"Miles! You gotta go!"

"In a minute!"

"Miles!"

"In a min-mmm-ute!" He just had to have some of that soup. You drown the voices out and your attention found your phone. Checking the time with a roll of your eyes. Answering a few text messages your eyes start to lull as sleep starts to settle in.

A small yawn slipped past your lips and suddenly everyone's eyes were on you. Like hawks. You were sat by the window in your favorite green chair that Miles's parents owned, one leg over the other phone in hand, book bag on the floor.

You smile at everyone in the room and give them a small wave all their eyes were on you at the moment and the silence was getting suffocating.

"See, Miles why can't you be ready on time like Y/m over here? You always have the poor girl waiting."

You shake your head in protest claiming not to be bothered by it when in actuality you kinda were. Had to keep up the nice girl act with his parents y'know?

You wished one day that this boy would be ready and out the door so you weren't the last in class almost every day.

It's had gotten to a point where your first-period teacher didn't even mark you absent because she knew how late you were, like a routine. And because she didn't have a stick up her ass she never marked you absent unless you truly were.

"It's fine Ms. Rio, I don't even get marked absent anymore." You said with a cheeky grin and a fake innocence to your voice just to piss Miles off more. Eyes shifting to his to rub it in his face.

"Whatever," Miles says with an eye roll.

You just stick your tongue out at him un-phased.

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #spider man #spider man into the spider verse #spiderverse #peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman #tasm fic #tasm!peter imagine #amazing spider man #spiderman across the spiderverse #jumping spider #spiderman x reader

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e2019 · 2 months

Note

Hi Lyn i hope you’ll have a great day 🌸

morning uppers-addicted-jester95,

thank you i had a pretty good day i went to work and it was an easy day as always. at first i thought my coworker wasnt gonna show up which doesnt really make much of a difference for me except it would be slightly annoying, it didnt matter tho cuz he did eventually show up so all's well that ends well

i listen to music all thru my shift but today i listened to a lot of new (to me) music and it was all really good so i was very happy/excited about that

the only thing i can complain about really is that for the past week or so it's been feeling like i'm starting to get sick and it's tripping me the fuck out because i pretty much never get sick. except at the end of last year i got some mysterious respiratory infection diagnosed as "not-pneumonia" and that was by far the sickest i've ever been in my life i couldnt even walk or stand up w/o struggling to breathe it was crazy cuz i never been sick like that before and it lasted a long time but im better now so it's ok. anyways it's weird cuz like yesterday i felt great, much better than i have in a long time, but today i woke up feeling bad again, then halfway thru my shift i started feeling ok again, now i feel pretty good, overall it's not bad it's just annoying

i broke my blender 2 days ago and got a new one yesterday. i used it for the first time today. this one cant blend ice cubes either so i think i'll break it too before u know it

well thats whats new in my world today. how about you? i hopeyoure having a good day as well

lets all have a good thursday everyone, love from texas

#ask #uppers-addicted-jester95

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writtenonreceipts · 2 years

Note

“i’m here because i love you.” “even when i'm sick?” “especially when you're sick. sick people need even more love than usual, you know.” “………..i love you immeasurably.”

for Feysand ❤️♥️❤️♥️

i'm so sorry. this got lost with some other prompts i'm working through. i really liked this prompt and was so excited about it! please forgive me for letting it sit. i really do hate it when i let that happen...

find my masterlist here

warnings: just some talk about sickness/vomiting. ~1.7k

...

When There’s Love

A shudder ran through Feyre's body as she popped another pill in her mouth and swallowed it down with an entire glass of water. Despite the way her throat burned with each swallow she kept gulping the water down. The pill hadn't even been that big, but taking pills had never been something she was good at or liked.

She could feel the way the pill slowly moved all the way to her stomach. Groaning, she collapsed back in her bed. She felt like some demonic creature of sludge that couldn't even hold itself up properly.

Ever since Thursday afternoon she'd been curled up in bed trying not to move. She succeeded. Until her stomach rebelled. Unable to keep anything down aside from popsicles and crushed up sleeping medication, Feyre had spent most of that night on the floor. No matter how hard she tried to keep still, to will her stomach to calm, she always found herself heaving her guts back up.

That combined with chills, muscle cramps, and a miserable headache made for a miserable stomach bug.

Now that it was Friday she'd been hoping for a change in her condition. The universe had other plans.

When her phone rang from the bedside table, Feyre almost ignored it. She could hardly keep a coherent thought in her head that she doubted she could hold up her end of a conversation. But then she saw the name flash on the screen.

Rhys.

She fumbled before she managed to swipe the screen.

"Hey," she murmured. Her voice was a low croak that sounded even worse than she'd imagined.

"You sound worse." Rhys' immediate response would have offended her on any other day. But for now, she let it slide.

"'M fine," she said. She nestled the phone against her ear and the pillow. Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the way the water and pill rolled around her belly.

"I'm coming over," Rhys said on the other line. "When was the last time you ate?"

Feyre winced. He was always watching over her, always coming to her aide before she even knew she needed him. Why was she always a burden to him? They'd only been dating a few months now and it always felt like she was the one in need.

"Rhys," she began, then cut herself off as her stomach gave a little heave.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," Rhys told her. "I'm leaving work now, alright?"

There was no arguing with that tone of voice. Even before they'd started dating and he'd just been a pain in her ass, that tone was the no nonsense tone. That tone was the I'm the boss tone. The one that ensured everyone listened to him.

"You do that. I'm going to go throw up," she said. She really wasn't sure why she admitted it out loud. Hell. She didn't want him to see her like this.

A pause from Rhys. "Ten minutes."

...

She'd met him only a year ago after she was hired on as the interior decorator for the Velaris law offices. Her real desires fell in paints and sketching, but making money on that wasn't easy to do. So Feyre supplemented her income with interior decorating.

True, she got to shop with someone else’s credit card. And she could control her hours and schedule to her own desires. But she always felt like something was missing.

Which was how he’d found her staring at the setup of one of the offices. She hadn’t been able to help it, the office she was in over looked the city and Ramiel was in the distance, it was the perfect opportunity for a sketch. So, she’d pulled out the sketchbook she kept in her purse and the charcoal stick and set to work.

She’d been so enmeshed in the sketch that Feyre hadn't heard him approach. He snuck up behind her and waited silently until she turned and nearly dropped her sketch pad and charcoal.

"Sorry, I thought you heard me," he said.

She glared at him. "Right, which is why you didn't say anything."

"I didn't want to disturb you," he insisted. Stooping, he scooped up her sketch pad pausing when he saw the open page. "This doesn't look like interior decorating."

Feyre snatched the book from his hands and flipped it closed. "I'm an artist. This is personal."

"Should I let my boss know you're shirking on your duties?" he asked. An insufferable smirk lightened on his features.

It was unfortunate he was so attractive. Beautiful even. Mostly because all she wanted to do was sketch him. Outline his jaw and nose. See how she could shade his eyes and mix blue and red. Maybe something closer to cyan and magenta. She’d add a bit more blue to capture those dark edges.

"Ah, so you like threatening women," she said. "Good to know."

A low chuckle. “Perhaps you tell me you’re name and we call this even?”

She rolled her eyes. He was a prick and an ass; he didn’t deserve anything from her.

“That art is beautiful, by the way,” he said when she remained quiet. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Thank-you,” she said slowly. She’d seen him around on occasion. Only when he was moving at top speed and talking in a phone or ordering a poor intern to get him fresh coffee. He’d always been so cold and aloof.

Until now.

“You should show Helion,” he added, “he always enjoys getting new artwork in the office. I’m sure he’d be interested in your work.”

Feyre clutched the sketch pad closer to her chest. All she could do was nod.

“Mr. Avitas!” Someone called from down the hall.

He grinned at her, brilliant smile flashing. “See you later, darling.”

Art had always been a part of her and ever since that day, Rhys helped her remember why that was.

Feyre lay on the cool tile of her bathroom. After this last round of throwing up, she hadn't bothered moving. Not even to rinse her mouth out. Which was disgusting she knew.

In the end it took him twelve minutes to get to her apartment. When he got there, he let himself in with a key Feyre had given him after she'd needed him to drop off things she'd ordered for the office. She'd forgotten about it until that moment and had never been more grateful that she didn't have to move.

"Feyre?" Rhys called.

He was already moving down the hall and found her curled on herself before she could answer.

"I want to die," she told him as he knelt down beside her.

"Sorry, darling," he said, "can't let that happen."

He ran a hand over her forehead and brushed back the sweaty strands glued to her skin. Unable to help herself, Feyre leaned into his touch and sighed.

"You left work early," she whispered. Cracking an eye open, she watched his expressions. As a lawyer he was always so careful in the way that he held himself and careful with how he let others perceived him. In that moment though she caught a flicker of pain in his eyes.

"Of course I did," he murmured. "C'mon, let's get you back to bed."

Whimpering, Feyre let him pulled her up to her feet. He wasted no time in swinging her up in his arms and carrying her back to her room across the hall.

"You shouldn't have left," she said. She felt tears prick her eyes as he settled her in bed and gently drew up the soft fleece blanket, he'd bought her just last week. It was her favorite thing to snuggle with. "You have a disclosure to prepare for. And I'm going to get you sick. And if you get sick Helion will kick your ass."

Chuckling, Rhys made sure she was tucked in before he kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed beside her. He was still dressed in his good suit but didn't seem to care the way it rumpled as he wrapped an arm around her.

Feyre watched him blearily. "Seriously, I know what this case means for you."

He didn't listen to her. Instead, Rhys ran his hand through her hair again. He had a soft look in his eyes as he tucked her in closer to his side.

“And you’re always taking care of me,” she added morosely. If she were certain her head wouldn’t spin and she wouldn’t start retching, she’d roll out of bed and pace the room. “Like I’m some sort of invalid.”

"I'm here because I love you," he said, his voice was smooth as honey, "and nothing you say is going to get me to leave."

It was the first time he'd said the words and maybe if she wasn't delirious, she would have thought about it further.

For now, all she could manage was another pathetic whimper. "Even when I'm sick?"

Another laugh rumbled through his chest. Feyre couldn't help but snuggle in closer to the motion. Everything about him always felt so good, was always so soothing to her.

“Especially when you're sick," he said. That amusement in his voice was tender and gentle. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead. "Sick people need even more love than usual, you know.”

She rolled in his arms to get a better look at him. Frowning, Feyre pulled a hand out from the blanket and reached out to run her finger along the concerned crease in his brow.

"I want to draw you," she sighed. "One of these days."

That was also something that had never been admitted aloud. Damn. She really wished she were high on meds to explain this behavior. Though being sick and delirious was also a good excuse, right?

She dropped her hand and curled it between them, eyes still trained on him.

"Alright," he agreed, soft smiled on his lips, "you can do that when you're better."

Feyre closed her eyes and snuggled closer to him. "Well, I hope you're ready. I'm still convinced I'm at death's door."

"That's alright darling," he said. He pressed another kiss to her forehead and she could feel the feather light touch of his hands run soothingly down her face and shoulder. She was drifting off to sleep when he whispered his next words. "I love you immeasurably.""

She'd remember those words, somehow. And when she would taunt him about them, he'd let her, if only for a moment. It would take that long before she realized he was serious. It would take that long for her breath to catch and that first kiss to be exchanged.

It would take only a moment for her to say the words back.

...

tags:

@aelinchocolatelover // @sexy-dumpster-fire // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @emikadreams // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @highladysith // @fangirlprincess09 // @rowaelinismyotp // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @cassianscool // @stardelia // @my-fan-side // @sjmships // @tillyrubes10 // @acourtofsjmtrash // @hellasblessed // @rhysandswhore // @story-scribbler // @post-it-notes33 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @strangevil321 // @whythefuckdoiexist // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @lemonade-coolattas @foreverfallingforthestars // @themoonthestarsthesuriel// @feysand-loml // @scribbled-semantics // @realbookloverproblems // @ghostlyrose2 // @swankii-art-teacher // @foughtconquered // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @captain-swan-is-endgame // @tanvee1231 // @mystic-bibliophile // @cretaceous-therapod // @thenightgodess-feyrearcheron // @thisloveseternal // @gracie-rosee // @magnifique1807 // @liars-lmao // @goddess-aelin // @thegloweringcastle //

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #rhys x feyre #acotar #acotar fanfiction #fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #prompt #fluff #cute #fic #fic writing

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nolanscheeks · 1 year

Text

Non-Covid Illness (BB)

So I was supposed to go to the Canucks game against the Jets with my boyfriend but instead he decided it would be more fun to get BODIED by the flu. While he spent the day on the couch in a fever haze I saw that Brock and Petey are also getting bodied by the flu so I thought up this. Its extremely loosely based on real life (ie Brock being out sick) and very heavily based on the past few days with my boyfriend. Needless to say I am manifesting health for my love, Brock, Petey and the rest of us. So wash your hands, (wear a mask if thats your vibe, get your flu shot (if that’s your vibe), sleep, and take your vitamins because OH MY GAWD you do not want this flu, it is awful.

Enjoy:)

To say it had been a rough season for the Canucks so far would be an understatement. The highs had been essentially non-existent and the lows had been pretty low. The whole team was suffering but the player who seemed to be getting the brunt of it was your boyfriend. Brock had been absent to start the season due to injury, then missed another chunk of time when he re-injured himself, and through it all had been bombarded with trade speculations and even an attempted healthy scratch. Worst of all, here he was finally uninjured and getting his groove back and now he was sick. Not the ‘feeling rundown, got a cold in’ kind of sick everyone gets this time of year. He was the ‘fever, can’t move, want to curl up and die’ kind of sick.

Brock had left for Calgary on Wednesday morning in a great mood, excited for the one game trip against the Flames and then a few days off to start the Christmas festivities with you and your family. You’d actually been on FaceTime with your mom and brother, figuring out a time everyone could go to the Christmas market, when Brock’s call came through.

The moment you accepted his call and his face filled the screen, you could tell he was off. He told you that he’d felt off since he’d woken up, not hungry and slow during morning skate, and then it was downhill from there. Brock said he’d gone down for his pre-game nap and then couldn’t will himself to get out of bed after it. He texted the trainer who came and took a look at him, told him he had a fever, gave him Tylenol and left him with instructions to ‘sleep it off’. You sympathized as needed and stayed on the call with him until he inevitably nodded off again. Elias delivered Brock to you later that night and the sight of your boyfriend visibly shivering, despite his jacket and hat, broke your heart. He didn’t kiss you ‘hello’, like he always did, or even greet the dogs. He just pushed past you and beelined it for bed, shoes and all. You’d looked at Elias, concern written all over your face. “He’s doing bad” was all he said, giving you Brock’s bag. You thanked him and went to the bedroom to help Brock undress, or at least take his shoes off which was all he was willing to do. You’d gone to bed hoping he was going through the worst of it now and would feel better in the morning but the next few days showed you that was wishful thinking.

The doctor had come to see him Thursday evening and tested him for a bunch of things, hoping they could prescribe something to get him back on his feet but Brock was shit out of luck. The only test that came back positive was the flu so there was nothing to do but wait for his body to fight it. Of course, he could go to the hospital if he got too ill but so far you’d been able to keep his fever down and he was taking in fluids so the doctor didn’t think it was necessary.

So here you were, Friday midday and the big event for the day was Brock moving from the bed to the couch. He was on his side somewhere between asleep and awake, unconscious but not alert either, when you kneeled in front of him.

“Hey” you breathed out, bringing your hand up to touch his cheek. You really didn’t want to disturb him but it was time for more Advil and he needed to drink something.

“Hi” he whispered back, opening his eyes to look at you. The look in his eyes physically hurt you. They were usually so bright and lit up when he saw you, but now they looked glazed over. Glassy with fever and dull with exhaustion.

“Time to do drugs” you joked trying to lighten the mood, as you rattled the pill bottle in front of him.

“I hope you got the good kind” he chuckled weakly, pushing himself into a seated position.

“Only the bed for you baby” you said, giving him the 2 pills and following it up with a Gatorade. “Got these bad boys from the best dealer in town.”

“Whole Foods?” he guessed, taking them and continuing to sip the Gatorade after you motioned for it.

“Shoppers” you corrected.

“Cheapo” he teased, laying back down. Now it was your turn to let out a small chuckle. If anyone was cheap, it was Brock. You transferred from the floor so you were sitting next to him on the edge of the couch. You brushed his hair out of his face, twisting some of it around your fingers. He was still warm and kind of clammy like he’d been since Elias had dropped him off. You sighed, pissed at whatever monster strain of Influenza was absolutely kicking your professional athlete boyfriend’s ass and a little disappointed you guys had missed out on the Christmas market with your family.

“What?” he asked, turning his head to look up at you.

“I’m just so sorry you’re sick like this.”

“Believe me, I don’t like it either but it was my turn” he grabbed your hand from his hair and kissed it sweetly. Brock held your hand for another minute before letting go and letting his eyes close once again.

You stood up, collecting the bottle of Advil you’d put on the ground and went to make your way back to the kitchen when you heard Brock say something muffled.

“What was that, B?” you asked.

“Make sure you wash your hand” he repeated, shoving his face back in the blanket. You cracked a smile, he’d been so cute reminding you to wash your hands, like that was going to make the difference when you guys were sleeping in the same bed and the night before he’d literally been laying on you.

You made your way to the kitchen looking for something to occupy yourself with while Brock slept. You decided you may as well start making dinner, maybe you could bully Brock into eating something more substantial than the third of a smoothie he’d managed today. The doctor had emphasized the importance of nutrition to your guys during his visit but Brock was struggling to eat much of anything right now. You’d even offered to get him sushi or pizza but he’d had no interest. He was drinking at least.

An hour or so later, you had the chicken noodle soup you’d prepped simmering on the stove when you heard Brock’s phone start to buzz.

“Sup Petey” Brock answered, clicking ‘speaker’ on the call.

“Boes” came Elias’ voice, rougher than normal, “I am ill.”

“Fuck,” Brock slapped his hand over his face; “I’m sorry man. Didn’t mean to get you sick.”

“Not your fault” Elias conceded. You heard him sigh into the phone. “I should’ve been nicer to you after the Flames. This is terrible. I might die.”

“When did you start feeling sick?” Brock asked.

“Yesterday” Elias answered, “today is so much worse.”

“Yeah. I got bad news for you, I’m still dead so you’ve got a bit to go.”

You giggled, of course they were still joking with each other despite feeling so bad.

“Keep your flu to yourself next time” Elias scolded.

“I’ll try” Brock said, and then “seriously though, I’m sorry I got you sick bro, it really sucks.”

“You better be. Bruce and all of Vancouver are going to be mad at you if I am not healed by tomorrow.” Elias teased good naturedly. Brock sighed audibly and then they bid each other goodbye. You returned to the spot on the couch where you had been before, cupping his cheek with your hand. His skin still felt too warm and you were beginning to worry about his ability to play in the next night’s game, as well as Elias’.

Brock must have read your mind because he spoke softly; “I hope I feel better tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “But if you don’t you don’t and you take another day.”

He nodded at that, letting you continue to caress his cheek.

“Are you hungry? I made soup and it should be ready soon?” you asked.

“Not really,” he said, rubbing his eyes with his hand. “I should probably eat though.”

“Definitely a good idea. Maybe some water or Gato too.”

“Oh my god, Y/N. You did not just call it Gato” Brock laughed, sounding exasperated. You returned the giggle and then stood up, reaching a hand out to help him up. As you walked with him to the kitchen you thought he might be starting to turn the corner towards wellness. He had been joking with you earlier about the Advil, was joking with you now, and he did look steadier on his feet. Plus he was willingly making his way to the kitchen for food. You decided to take this all as a good sign that your boyfriend was finally starting to feel better. Maybe tomorrow’s game wasn’t such a long shot.

After dinner Brock continued to improve, even wanting to take the dogs out for their evening walk with you but you insisted he get ready for bed instead. The next morning his fever was virtually gone so he decided to go to morning skate and you took the opportunity to sanitize the entire apartment glad to have the whole flu situation behind you. You had even gone as far as picking an outfit to wear to the game when Brock came home and you realized it had definitely jumped the gun.

“That was a mistake,” Brock grumbled, flopping onto the couch. “I feel like shit again.”

“Too much too soon?” you proposed, unfolding a freshly washed throw blanket to place over him again.

He hummed a yes in response and then “I wanted to play tonight but I don’t think I have the energy.”

“I know you did,” you acknowledged, feeling his forehead with your hand. He was maybe a little warm but nowhere near what he had been. “Get some sleep. Your body is still recovering from being so sick. It might take a few days”

“Such BS,” Brock mumbled. He has already closed his eyes, seemingly getting ready for yet another nap. You leaned down and kissed his cheek before returning to your closet to put your outfit away. You could go to the game without him but you also didn’t hate the idea of watching it cuddled up on the couch with Brock.

Brock woke up from his nap feeling much better again but you guys decided that it was probably best he didn’t play. After a call with the trainer, you guys set up on the couch with the dogs and take out sushi.

“Thanks for taking care of me babe” he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in tight. “I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

You laughed tilting your head up so you guys could make eye contact. “Absolutely, anything for you.” You puckered your lips for him to kiss and your heart filled with warmth as you felt his lips make contact with yours.

Hope you liked it. No shade to Shoppers drug mart. There's one in my building and it was been my best friend the last few days. Stay healthy!

#brock boeser work #brock boeser fanfic #Brock Boeser fic #brock boeser x reader #nhl writing #nhl blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader

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lazypanartist · 1 year

Text

Chapter 3

---

A Rose By Any Other Name

Would Feel As Frigid

Warnings: mentions of violence, other questionable activities, theft, and the American school system

Notes: a little over half of you said to name Reader, so that's what we'll do!

SO chapter 2 finished up the 1st Belle Reve visit. Here we're starting round 2!

---

"And all you did was interview them."

Adam, our yearbook drag-along, seemed annoyed. "Some psych kids can only DREAM of seeing into thoughts of criminals like these!"

Rachel bumped her brother's shoulder, setting her lunch tray down next to his. "Big whoop. The staff, here AND at Belle Reve, don't want us to keep being delinquents or whatever."

"They're sick of us already," I offered. "Guards don't wanna see us, school doesn't want to deal with the fallout if we get arrested. And the inmates probably don't want us locked up with them, for the most part."

Adam scowled at me. Typical maneuver from him, really.

"Yeah? I'm sick of seeing you, too."

I smiled at him, watching as his scowl deepened.

"Feeling's mutual, A. Get any good pictures of Ray and Shimmer? Or did you get to everyone but me?"

"I'm getting student-inmate interactions next time. The guards gave me a small tour of the prison yesterday - it's massive!"

"No kidding.." My mind floated back to the giant gate we had gone in by. "Absolutely huge."

"Next visit's next Thursday." Rachel reached across her own tray, grabbing something off her brother's. He gave her a withering glare, but she only smirked in response.

Adam sighed, turning his attention back to me. "The guy in charge - Mister Strange, I think - said that you guys are doing something a little different next week. Apparently everyone's getting a guard this time around.. not just everyone but you."

"Huh." It was the only intelligent response I could find.

"Yeah," he filled in. "Must be bad if there aren't any exceptions."

I nodded. "What do you think it is? Pairing us off?"

He shrugged. "Good question. Whatever it is, it'll probably get into the school paper."

Rachel sighed. "So everyone knows how much trouble we're in?"

"Nope." Adam nudged his sister's arm gently. "Not if they don't already, of course. School's painting it as an excursion for the inmates to get outside interaction."

"Oh." Rachel perked up slightly. "Because they don't want to spoil their own name?"

"Probably." Adam shrugged. "If it was up to me, it'd be a chance for you guys to learn from your mistakes and see what you could become. Which it is, of course, but that's not what the school's saying."

"Right." I nodded. Rachel copied the action, grinning when our eyes met.

"Good thing, too," she giggled. "I'd hate to have everyone know my sins or whatever."

Adam rolled his eyes. "You were just dragged into it, Ray. You'll be fine."

"Yeah.." Rachel mumbled. All I could do was silently agree with her hesitation.

–

Cameron seemed excited the next time I went into the interview room. I noted in the back of my mind the lack of cuffs, and Bob stepping into the room behind me.

"Casey! Welcome back."

"You seem.. hyper?" I was wary, of course. He hadn't seemed this openly emotional the last visit, and the sudden presence of his demeanor..

His eyes widened, and he looked past me to the guard. "You didn't tell them?"

Bob huffed in what was probably contempt. "Nope. Get up." And with that he passed me, heading towards the door behind Junior.

I eyed the inmate questioningly, and he grinned.

"You're getting a tour! Of course you probably don't want to, but if you keep on your "current path" or whatever you're here for.." he trailed off with his air quotes before motioning for me to follow. Bob was holding the door open on the other side, a similar hallway to the civilian side laid out in front of me. I could see Lainey and Devastation, flanked by two guards, down the hall already.

"Psst."

She glanced back, and I waved. Lainey smiled, returning the gesture before rounding a corner I hadn't seen previously.

Oh.

"So, today's agenda." Junior slowed down, walking next to me in the hall. "Is of course, the tour. From what I hear of my dad's chat with the director, Strange, you're sticking with me all day." He put emphasis on the "all", dragging it out. "That means bunk check, lunch, rec time, everything."

"Fun," I offered. "So, like 60 days in without the jumpsuit."

"Exactly!" He grinned, nudging my arm. I could hear Bob huff in front of us, but he obviously wasn't bothered enough to react further.

We rounded the corner, passing through a door (Bob was behind us now, holding it open.)

I must have gasped. All I know for sure is that the size of the intake was massive - probably to contain some of the larger incoming inmates.

We ventured through a few more hallways, Junior talking the whole way. Things about "two inmates per room", "twenty rooms per side of the hallway", "two sides per hallway", and a few more things about the bunk check. Something about the lifting and shaking of mattresses and bedding to check for stashed contraband.

It's been a while, so I don't remember for sure. I wasn't listening much anyways, instead taking in the concrete surroundings.

It took a minute before I noticed that we weren't following Lindsay and Devastation anymore.

"Hey, Junior?"

His nose wrinkled. "Please, Cameron's fine."

"Sorry.. Cameron. Where'd the girls end up?"

"Oh!" He gestured towards our left. "They took the left hall in intake. Whole place's segregated by gender except intake, outgoing, and interviews. I don't know why we took the long way to bunks.." he glanced back at Bob, who merely huffed as his answer. Cameron turned back to me and shrugged before taking an abrupt right, down another hallway.

"And.. here!" He stepped into a cell, turning around and spreading his arms. "Ta-da!"

I glanced around. It was.. space. Four concrete walls, a metal bunk bed that looked older than Bob.. there wasn't much bedding either. A small toilet took its place in a far corner, a blanket strewn beside it.

"Huh."

He glanced behind me before chuckling, eyes falling slightly. "Yeah. It's not much, but until I'm 25, it's home."

My eyes widened. "Oh, wow."

He nodded before motioning me closer. I hesitated and he rolled his eyes.

"He can't check my bunk until one, you're out of the doorway." I stepped to the side, and Bob walked past me. "And two, my bunkmate's here."

I blinked before taking a step towards Cameron and the bunk. "Who's your bunkmate?"

"Oh, not a big name or anything." He smirked. "Just Mister Freeze."

I blinked. "Oh."

He looked quickly between Bob and I before rolling his eyes. "Oh, come ON! Do we even really have to wait for him?" When Bob didn't answer, he sighed. "He's still shadowing my dad! There's no way he'll get here in time for Case and I to finish the tour!"

Bob thought for a minute before huffing again, passing between Cameron and I. The other teen's eyes widened before meeting mine again, flashing a grin and thumbs-up as Bob struggled up the bunk's ladder.

We kept glancing between Bob and one another while we waited, Cameron offering a smile every time our eyes passed. I started returning them after the third.

Finally Bob came back down the ladder. I could hear footsteps coming down the hall as he painted quietly.. quite a few sets, actually.

"Congratulations, Junior." Cam's nose wrinkled again. "You're set. I'll walk you 'n Casey back t' the chow hall - if it 'as up to me, they'd fully integrate for the tour." He rolled his eyes before turning. "You two'll have plenty of supervision without me there too, but Director Strange made it clear that you," he turned momentarily from the door, pointing at Cameron, "should have another set of eyes on you."

Cameron chuckled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Like I said." Bob finally got the door back open - he must have jammed the lock - and started back down yet another hallway. "If it 'as my choice, they'd all be in suits with the same restrictions as you inmates. If the school's plan is to scare you kids straight, they need a better strategy!"

I sighed, rolling my eyes when Cameron shot me a confused look before smiling.

"Right. Guards want us here for real? Can't blame you."

I could tell that the previous day's sentiment was true - most people at Belle Reve were sick of us already. Cameron, though?

He offered me another smile in return, nudging my arm. "Please. It might actually be bearable if you stick around."

"For eight years?!" I laughed. "I don't think I'd make it!"

He shrugged. "Hey, if you and me stick together, you'll be okay."

I could tell, even back then, that he was right. Even if I didn't know what it was about..

---

WHOOH finally finished this chapter! So much brain fog rn! Chapter 4 coming asap, love y'all, ciao!

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 1 year

Text

tuesday again 1/10/2023

the more injuries and minor surgeries i pick up throughout my life i get more convinced i do actually play first person shooters as a power fantasy but not in the normal way. recovering ok, this was prescheduled and premeditated, just extremely tired

listening

are you havin any fun? this tony bennet version is good enough. the SINGULAR line "and nervous indigestion" has been stuck in my head since thursday.

youtube

reading

another pitch for Molly White's Web3 Is Going Just Great, bc HOO boy did a lot of shit happen last weekend. every crypto gaming project that folds feels like a personal gift to me. i did feel slightly insane last year bc the hype was so intense, everyone at my old job was fully bought in, and i got cited on two "performance reviews" for not being "excited enough" about crypto. anyway i hope my boss' two teslas explode.

watching

watched a ton of shit this week, including the entire run of the vampiric interview tv show, which i WILL have more coherent thoughts about later. what a horrible, messy, incredibly satisfying bit of television.

guillermo del toro's pinocchio made me fucking bawl my eyes out and i'm a little resentful of that. stupidly, stupidly beautiful film.

i'm here to talk about s/tar wars the bad b/atch, or at least the second season's first two episodes.

the whitewashing and general racism around the clones has been a problem since attack of the clones but has really only gotten worse with time and is especially bad in this outing of the franchise. i'm not super qualified to talk about this, but i think @unwhitewashthebadbatch is a good starting point.

my biggest storytelling beef is that it feels very much like a DnD campaign that is trying to be a blades in the dark campaign. the format and tone aren't quite right. this show neither focuses on the immediacies of survival right after the republic's collapse, nor where the Bad Batch are trying to fit themselves into a new world, and it really suffers for it. there's almost nothing about parenthood (bc Omega is still tagging along on missions, and she is still twelve). i still don't really know the story this show is trying to tell, but am forced to conclude that a weekly show for children about guys who can do some sick flips is not the correct medium since i still don't fucking know what story this show is trying to tell.

there are eight products on shopDisney for this show and two of them are on clearance. i do not anticipate this series will be renewed past s3. apparently according to some advance reviewers this picks the fuck up after the midpoint of the season but i'm not holding my breath.

production wise, the backgrounds and lighting have gotten way better, they've really leaned into a luminous sort of matte painting that doesn't always pretend to have depth. i like how the rocky set in the second episode feels very much like a live-action limited-budget set. looks very much like a soundstage but animated, and i think that's oddly charming. i do like the location we visited in e2, wish we got to see more of it or talk really at all about the significance of the location. like. we have a literal castle chase and we don't talk about the castle At All. come ON.

one of the few canon trans characters in star wars deserves a better show with more coherent storytelling. love star wars! wish it was good.

playing

largely fallow week. shouts out to the app Flick Solitaire bc i played through a hundred and fifty levels in the past few days

making

some knitting problems i have to mull over before i post, bc i created an entire kerchief thing in a percocet haze but am unhappy with the finish. we shall see! might frog it but i'll post about it before i do

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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ironmanfridgemagnet · 2 years

Text

Sitting On The Shelf - Marcus White x Reader

Part 24 - Ladies Lunch

SOTS Masterlist

"Good morning, everyone. Hey, who here likes cash, huh?" Glenn cheered, a handful of $20 bills fanned out in his hold, being waved above you. A chorus of joyful yes's reverberated around the break room, no one a person to back down from the offering of seemingly free money.

"Oh, good, I'm glad you're excited." Glenn's smile quickly turned into a frown, the cash being lowered closer to his chest and silence falling over the once-gleeful break room. "Because our computer system is down, so today all we can take is cash."

Groans echoed around the room, defeated sighs and heads falling against tables. Letting out a wearied laugh, you let your head fall into the palm of your hand, rubbing at the flesh of your temple as twirls of steam heated your face from your coffee.

The winter was leaving slowly, the dregs of cold and snow still coming as you had trudged your way into the store this morning, having walked so Amy could get to counselling. Your face was still red, bitten by the cold and fuelled now by the heat that brushed your cheeks.

"What? Why are you waving the cash around like that?" Garrett asked, a look of hurt flashing across his face; though it had appeared Glenn would be giving out free cash, that clearly wasn't the case.

Placing a hand against Garrett's shoulder, you rubbed it gently, a tired attempt at soothing his obvious upset. Bringing your mug to your lips with your other hand, you took a sip of your coffee, revelling in the warmth that then travelled through you.

"I thought it would make you excited." Glenn frowned deeply, his entire mood deflated at the simple question. "Like I was gonna give you the cash or something."

Silence fell over the upset population of the break room, sighs and groans travelling around the room as Glenn referred to his clipboard in an effort to change the subject. "Hey, where's Amy?" Dina asked, suddenly straightening up in her chair as she looked around the break room for the brunette.

"Oh, she's been late a lot lately." Mateo mused, some kind of judgmental comment or thought on the top of his tongue. "Last Thursday, last Monday. Thursday before that."

"Oh, no." Cheyenne gasped, hands smacking down against the table top as looked urgently around the break room. "What if Emma was kidnapped? Or y/n?"

A laugh bubbles past your lips, your head shaking gently as you reached out to touch the younger girls shoulder, other hand still cradling the warmth of your mug. "I'm literally right here, Chey."

"Yeah, what if they're getting kidnapped every Monday and Thursday morning?" Letting out a low laugh, you muffled it behind a cough, Garrett's usual sarcasm having an even stronger effect on a sleepier you.

"It has nothing to do with Emma, or y/n, okay? It's a personal thing. End of conversation." Glenn assured, his wording creating an edge of tension in the break room; all he'd said was four little words that told the break room more then they needed to know.

"Glenn." You warned, sitting upright in your chair and discarding the warmth of your drink in favour of saving Amy's secret. "Feel like you've said too much there."

"Beginning of conversation." Jonah argued, a questioning glance sent your way at your addition to Glenn's statement. It was obvious that you knew what was going on - why wouldn't you? - but for some reason, the thought hadn't crossed Jonah's mind.

"Oh, my God, is she sick?" Sandra gasped, chatter immediately breaking out across the room at the notion.

It was all so dramatic: working in a small, close-nit store. It's not that you didn't love it, because you did - it was like having a whole, other family at times, which was something you had grown to appreciate. But at times like these, the smallest bit of gossip - even the idea that there could be gossip - was enough to start a wildfire.

"Zika, I bet. Everyone's getting Zika." Marcus's voice had your head turning, though you couldn't think of a time when it didn't, a sweet smile curling onto his face as his eyes met yours. Sneaking a wave at him, Marcus winked back at you, the charming mannerism making your cheeks red once more, though this time not from the cold.

"You know what? It's probably drugs." Dina's epiphany wasn't shared amongst the room, though her determined nature could've had you convinced. "You can tell from her teeth."

"It is not drugs!" Glenn let out an exasperated breath, his hands coming to rest on his hips as he stared at the crowded room before him, incessant chatter preventing his morning announcements.

"Glenn!" You chastised, voice raising an octave in distress; Glenn was about to out Amy's secret and you couldn't stop him.

"It's just marriage counselling." Silence fell over the break room. Complete and utter silence. Shocked face after shocked face turned to look at you - Amy's closest thing to family in the room - some with pity, some with nervousness, some with sympathy. "What? How is that worse than drugs?"

"Is Amy getting a divorce?" Cheyenne sounded as heartbroken as you felt, her voice cracking as she asked the question with baited breath.

"Look, I shouldn't have said anything, okay?" Glenn admitted, a look of disdain crossing his wrinkled features as he avoided the glares of the break rooms "Look, Adam hasn't even moved out. He's just sleeping in the basement."

"Glenn! Again!" You cried, coffee long forgotten and cold though your hand still shook as you spoke.

"How is that worse than divorce?" Glenn screeched, hands waving about frantically as his eyes scanned across the break room for a sign someone agreed with him.

"She told me this in confidence." Glenn stammered, his face falling and paling as he spotted Amy walking past the long walk of windows that covered the far wall of the break room. "So, you know, just clam up your face holes. Here she is. Shut up. Just shut up, just shut up! Shut up! Shut up! "

"Be normal, be normal." Dina yelled back, grabbing Glenn by the forearms and violently shaking him, trying to knock some sense - or some calmness - into him.

"Sorry I'm late. Traffic." Amy hastily shook her coat off, throwing it onto the coatrack haphazardly before taking the seat next to you, smoothing off her jeans as she sat down.

Reaching across the table, you grabbed her hand in your own, squeezing it tightly and keeping your hold on her. An apologetic smile was all you could offer in terms of condolences for what was sure to go down today.

"It's fine." Glenn brushed off, his failing attempt at acting normal quickly having Amy's face wrinkle in confusion.

"Oh man, traffic will slow things down." Jonah's aloud thoughts didn't help the situation any more then they usually did, his overly-whimsical tone hinting even more that something was wrong.

Shooting him a glare over Amy's shoulder, he mouthed an apology at you, wincing as you simply glared more at him in response.

"Oh, dude, especially in this town, you know?" Garrett asked rhetorically, his hands waving around in front of his as he tried to find words to ease the tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. "With all the cars."

"Traffic." Dina agreed, head awkwardly nodding as she stood beside Glenn, one hand pressed into the side table behind her as she balanced against it.

Tense silence filled the break room, only to be broken by Cheyenne's maniacal, nervous laughter. Realisation suddenly clicked in Amy's face, a frown forming on her lips as her eyes met yours. Offering another apologetic smile, you continued to hold her hand, your thumb rubbing across Amy's knuckles in slow, repetitive motions.

"Sorry." Cheyenne chocked out, nervous, high pitched laughter finally coming to an end.

"Oh, okay." Amy began, scowl settling on her face as she stared at Glenn from her seat directly opposing him. "So everybody knows about my counselling."

Glenn tried, and failed, to splutter to an excuse though quickly fell back on the best could come up with.

"Well, they do now!"

————————————————————————

"Just, whatever you do, don't bring it up."

"I'm not going to bring it up. Why would I do that? What makes you think I would do that?"

You and Jonah walked side by side, speeding through the aisles in an attempt to get to Amy first. Not only had you warned Jonah against trying to bring up Amy's situation, you had vehemently warned him against trying to offer his council.

"Oh, hey. I just wanted to let you know we restocked all the toothpaste that Myrtle decided looked "just fine" in electronics, so..."

"And?" Amy huffed, a hand falling to her hip as she stared an unrelenting Jonah down; this was an attempt at conversation you doubted was the first she'd heard this morning.

"And what?"

"Jonah." You warned, prodding at the bone of his hip that pressed against yours.

"Well, I know there's more." Amy pushed, desperate to just try and get such dreaded conversation topics over and done with before they became awkward and tense.

"No, there's not. There's just, there's just no shame in counselling. Is all I'm saying."

"And there it is." Amy looked so far done with the day already, despite the fact that it had only just begun. The day was slow so far however, and it proved you with a sense of hope that you could always hide away in the break room or Glenn's office together.

"Jonah, we agreed you weren't going to bring this up!" You cried, smacking your hand against the older man's chest, to which he turned to face you with a look of hurt flashing across his face.

"No. Mental health is important and it shouldn't be stigmatized. I think it's ridiculous that-"

"I'd just like to say, I tried to talk him out of this, many times." You interrupted, turning to Amy with a apologetic grimace, one she mirrored before turning to face Jonah.

Jonah's love for the world and everyone in it was admirable. There was never a moment that he wasn't trying to help someone else; even when it wasn't wanted, needed or necessarily successful. All three applying right now.

"Jonah, please stop. I know you're trying to help me and I really appreciate it, but I don't want to talk about it, okay? I don't. I just want everybody to treat me normally. Okay?" Amy couldn't have emphasised her point more. Sure, what Jonah was doing - or rather attempting to do - was sweet, but it just wasn't needed. As long as you'd known her, Amy had been a quiet and closed off person, and you doubted that would change for Jonah, of all people. "Oh, hey, Sandra, I-"

"Shh." Sandra pulled Amy into a bone-crushingly tight hug, one hand wrapped around her shoulder the other cradling her head to her chest, soothing her hair down. "It's okay. You are loved. Mm-hmm."

Deciding you'd rather avoid any more Amy induced awkward conflict, you headed towards the break room in hopes of finding it empty and dragging Amy there. As you passed the warehouse doors, an arm reached out, grabbing you tightly by the wrist and pulling you behind the large, heavy doors.

"Hey, y/n! You and Amy are close, right?" Dina had you pinned against the door, one hand tightly around your wrist as she looked intently over your shoulder, checking for signs of anyone coming.

Rapid breathes quickly came back to normal at the realisation your attacker was only Dina and not some crazed robber - though you weren't entirely sure which was worse. "Something like that, Dee. Why?"

"You fancy getting Amy out of here?" Dina's eyes raced across your face, a conflicted hesitation behind her words. Dina was never the type to skip work, for anything, so to see her willing to do so for Amy made your heart melt. It helped it had been a slow day, you supposed.

"Yeah, I was just thinking she needed to be away from the store. After... y'know, everything."

"Perfect. I'll meet you at the loading dock in five, got to go and grab some more participants." A smile wider then you'd ever seen on her filled Dina's face, her eyes crinkling and teeth full on show. With a pat on your forearm, she finally let you go, a twinkle in her eyes that wasn't there before.

"You're invited to ladies lunch!" Dina cheered, fist pumping the air as she pushed past the warehouse doors, a promise to return sending you straight in the direction of the loading dock.

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Across the store, unbeknownst to the crowd of people Dina was slowly enlisting to join her ladies lunch, people were gathered around the customer service desk, hoping the time left on their shift would magically disappear with the lack of customers to keep them busy. Unusually, your presence was not to be noted, already tucked behind the wheel of the truck in the loading dock, yet it didn't go unnoticed by the likes of your three favourite boys.

"Guys, it's not that big a deal. It's just counselling. They're gonna be fine." Jonah assured, his arms folded across his chest as he stared out into the abyss of the store, the lack of customers driving him to talk to anyone who would listen instead of seeking out his usual talking buddy.

"Yeah, but if the marriage goes pffft I call dibs on Amy." Marcus joked, his head lazily pressed into his palm, holding him up to look at a dazzled Jonah.

"But you can't just call dibs on a human." Jonah asserted, his body turning to face Marcus as a scowl of sorts settled on his face. It didn't feel like information that should be joked about, but the idea of Marcus 'getting' Amy was what really ticked him off.

"Okay, y/n then." Marcus refuted, Jonah's face reddening with anger at the change of heart. As far as he was concerned, Marcus didn't deserve either of you; though little did he know the tall, charming brunette already had you wrapped around his finger.

Marcus who called you every night he was away, who made you feel thought about, who gave you his jacket and who fed you saltines and soup when you were ill, had you like putty in his hands. If only he knew the extent of the interest he believed you'd so far shown in him.

"No, not on y/n either Marcus." Jonah scoffed, disbelieving in the words that slipped from Marcus's mouth like venom. Why did it hurt him so much?

"Why, did you already call it?" Marcus asked, his head snapping up from its place in his hand to meet Jonah's eyes. Sure, you and Marcus had something going on, but if dibs had been called... well, Marcus wasn't actually sure that it would change anything. Which, incidentally, scared the shit out of him.

"Did I? No, I no. I don't have any interest in-"

"He's already got a girlfriend." Garrett explained, a wicked grin curling onto Marcus lips at the knowledge - he didn't have to fight for your affections - though he was hoping he wouldn't have to anyway.

"No, actually, Naomi and I broke up." You'd laughed when Jonah broke the news to you: you hadn't meant to, you really hadn't meant to, but the fact they'd stayed together for that long was shocking enough. Cheese girl, as you had known since the beginning, was not good enough for him - at least, not under your standards - and you were beginning to worry that no one ever would be.

"Because of Amy?" Carol gasped, turning away from her conversation with Justine to add to the one she had been truly listening in on, the drama of it all too much to ignore.

Justine, who had clearly been under the same disguise, argued. "Because of y/n?"

"No, gross. Because she thought of me more as a brother." Everyone winced at the knowledge, it odd to hear from anyone, but also a seemingly shitty attempt at a cover-up excuse.

"But you don't have dibs on Amy or y/n then?" Marcus confirmed, asking about both to not raise any suspicion. No matter who he picked, he knew there was be some kind of rise out of Jonah, but Marcus didn't want Amy, not anymore.

Maybe in the past, or if you weren't around, and the opportunity came around to be with Amy, he would've. But you were around, and Marcus sometimes thought that he had never been more grateful for anything in his life.

At a confirmation of 'no' from Jonah, Marcus clapped his hands and jumped away from the counter top. "Cool. Dibs! Dibs infinity! No take backs. Mm! Yeah! Durbs!"

Just as Marcus finished celebrating his 'victory' over Jonah, Dina stormed past the customer service desk, determination in her stride, not stopping but simply calling out what she needed. "Justine, Carol with me."

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"This is for your own good." Dina argued, pushing Amy into the centre of the booth, squished between you and herself to ensure she didn't try and leave.

The roadhouse Dina had brought you too was electric; the low buzz of typical bar music mixed with the low chatter of what seems like regular customers had you excited. Amy needed a break after the event that was this morning, and this seemed like the perfect place for that - you knew Dina wasn't one to shy from something good, so you knew the food would be edible at the least.

"Yeah, you didn't have to kidnap me, Dina." Dina hadn't told you of her plan to trick Amy into the truck until you were driving there, a banging from behind your head making you want to pull over: Amy's voice had cried through the metal and Dina had told you not to worry about it.

"Kidnapping is what you do to children. You're pushing 40. I abducted you."

Amy turned to face you, arms crossed diligently across her chest as she was trapped between two of her abductors. "I can't believe you agreed to this, y/n."

"I literally can't think of a single reason I wouldn't?" You emphasised, one arm wrapped around your self as you held a menu in the other, flickering through its content in search of something to eat. "Besides, I think you could use the company. And, I think it was a very sweet idea - especially coming from Dina."

"All right, everybody. First on the agenda, free talk." It sounded as though this could turn into a pretty fun, and probably eventful, evening. "A couple of ground rules. No shop talk. Also, no religion or politics. Too divisive. Also, don't tell a story about someone we don't all know. It makes people feel excluded. Other than that, sky's the limit."

Of course Dina's ground rules excluded every possible topic of conversation.

"Have you guys heard the new Fetty Wap song?" Cheyenne asked in an attempt to make some kind of conversation, even with Dina intense base rules.

"We're not talking about music! Okay? That's just a bunch of sounds, and I can hear that anywhere." Despite having given very clear rules of conversation, Cheyenne had somehow managed to displease Dina, a sharp shout coming from her at even the insinuation of music.

This was going to be a long day.

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"Can I start you ladies off with some drinks, or..." The waiter, that Dina had introduced to you all as Ron, asked, his voice sweet, low and patient.

"No, we don't drink. Can you imagine? Cut to glug, glug, glug, glug." Justine yipped, laughing at her own words then quickly quieting down, looking down briefly at the drink menu she held in her hands. "Oh, uh, white wine. Two ice cubes."

"I'll take a Rusty Spaniard." Myrtle croaked, her fingers picking at the corner of the frayed laminate that covered her menu.

"I'm gonna have to see some ID." Rob teased, a sweet smile curling onto Myrtles lips and a blush heating her pale cheeks.

"Are you kidding?" Dina snapped, hand coming up to gesture at Myrtles grey hair and wrinkle face. "Look at her face. She's like 2,000."

Noting down myrtles order, Ron turned to the expanse of the table, opening the chance to order to everyone else. Cheyenne shuffled in her seat, shifting in her jeans as she looked anxiously between the menu and Ron. "This is embarrassing. I left my ID at the lawyer office."

"That's fine. What do you want?"

"I'll have four beers, please." Cheyenne chocked out, surprised that her poor attempt at lying had paid off, resulting in her being able to order alcohol while underage - not that Ron seemed to care.

Quickly scanning over the menu, you settled on the easiest drink you could find, deciding simplicity would be the quickest way to get drunk enough to survive through this. "Can I get a vodka lemonade? Thanks."

"How about we order our meals at the same time and then maybe you can just bring the check now. That would be great. Thank you." Amy suggested, pulling open a menu, eyes scanning furiously over the menu. "So what is fast?"

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Dinner had been brought to the table, your already half drunk vodka lemonade creating a warm buzz that you were beginning to feel in the tips of your toes. The food looked good - more then good, actually - and you were ready to enjoy an afternoon eating and drinking with people you considered your close friends.

"Okay, so why don't we go around the circle and each name our favourite part of the penis?" Dina announced, you chocking on your drink at the forwardness. "I'll go first. The bottom."

After an almost scared look at Dina, Amy cleared her throat, deciding to start up her own attempt at conversation instead of answering Dina's obscure question. "So, Cheyenne, how are things with you and Bo?"

"Great. You know, same old Bo. Little dangerous, little mysterious, little dyslexic. He recently lost his flip-flops so, you know ups and downs."

Everyone nodded along to Cheyenne's thoughts, her and Bo one of the sweeter couples you had the pleasure of knowing. Sure, they were both a little odd and a little clueless, but they were better together then anyone else. "Y/n, anything going on with you?"

"Me? No. Never. What made you think that?" You spluttered out, fiddling anxiously with the black, plastic straw that sat in your drink, pulling the bendy part and pushing it down again.

Amy, noticing your unease at the question, turning to Sandra with a wide smile. "And, um, Sandra, you're still with Jeff?"

"Um, yeah. It's fine." Sandra brushed off, you pulling your drink close to you again, and gulping down the clear liquid within till only ice cubes and a lemon slice remained.

"It's fine?" Dina scoffed, pushing her drink down against the dark, wooden table top in frustration. "This is ladies' lunch, Sandra. We need deets."

"Oh, okay. Um We spend hours on the phone, just talking. He loves my taste in music. I spend the night at his hotel when he's in town. We make love on silk sheets. Oh, God, he's gentle and strong. Sometimes he's dark. He took me to the edge of his balcony once and he asked, "Are you afraid?" And I said, "Yes." And he said, Good. That's how I feel with you." And then we made love. And then we ate dinner. And it was fancy. He thinks I'm prettier than my sister. Yeah."

"So when you say the bottom, you mean the base or, like, the underside?" Amy asked, suddenly much more interested in Dina's original topic of discussion then Sandra's long - and far too detailed - story of her sex life with Jeff.

"Um, I'd have to say, like, just the full underneath." Dina explained, picking up a pepper mill and smoothing her hand out along the bottom side of it as she held it in her hands.

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Your drink was long empty, another vodka lemonade having come and gone and just melted Ice cubes remained. Biting the straw between your teeth you looked at Amy who was curled into herself while the others talked.

"Okay, this is gonna sound so naughty, but should we get another round of drinks? We shouldn't, should we?" Justine asked, her 'drunk' self coming out after one glass of wine had been consumed.

"Nope. We should really get going." Amy said, spooning her last forkful of food into her mouth and sipping down the last of her drink in a speedy gulp.

"You're not even trying to have fun." Dina groaned, and for once you agreed. This 'ladies lunch' definitely wasn't being as successful as you had hoped it would be for her. "And Myrtle's not done yet."

"And." You added, the low buzz of alcohol beginning to take its effect coursing through the tips of your fingers and toes. "I would actually love more drinks, Justine."

"Look, I really appreciate this gesture, I do." Amy explained, hands frustratedly picking at the edge of wooden table before her, her gaze refusing to meet Dina's. "This was very nice of you, but this is terrible. It's depressing and and awkward. We have nothing to talk about." Amy let out a sigh, her hands waving about frantically as she tried to explain her feelings to Dina. "And I know this sounds weird, but this food smells like bowling."

"Yeah, um yeah, I'm sorry this wasn't perfect." Dina slumped in her seat, avoiding Amy's eyes as she looked around the table. "It's actually the first ladies' lunch I've ever thrown. I don't have a lot of female friends, so, uh yeah, let's just get going. This was stupid."

"Dina." You reached out, grabbing her wrist and stopping her for piling things together to get clean away, squeezing it gently. "It was not stupid at all, it was very sweet. More than so."

"No. We can stay." Amy replied diligently, picking up an armful of empty wine and beer glasses alike, waving them above her and in view of Ron. "No, no, no. We can stay, Dina. I want to stay. Ron, keep 'em coming!"

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Four or five rounds of drinks had been guzzled far too quickly down, your body swaying lightly from side to side as you drank more and more. Another round of shots had been brought to the table, everyone quickly taking one from Ron's tray and holding it to their lips.

"Bottoms up!" Amy shouted, downing the clear liquid from the shot glass with the rest of the table in unison. Wiping her mouth of any alcohol that had missed her lips, Amy turned to you with a devilish smile. "Y/n! Jonah, Garrett and Marcus."

The game of fuck, marry, kill had been circulating between rounds of shots, it finally being your turn again, and like every single previous round, Marcus had been thrown into the mix. Whether it was some kind of cruel trick of fate, or Amy's drunken influence, you weren't sure, but you weren't against giving the same answer each time.

"I would probably bang Marcus, and marry Jonah and Garrett." You giggled out, a hand coming to cover your mouth as your face blushed red, alcohol buzzing through your veins.

"That's not how the game works, dove." Dina laughed out, clapping your hard against your back.

"But I love them all too much." With a groan you leaned deeper into Amy and closer to the table, stretching out as you whined. "Ugh! Okay, Cheyenne, Marcus, Brett, Peter. Go."

"Okay. I would bang Marcus." Cheyenne admitted, the answer making you wince. Though you'd said the same thing only moments before, hearing the words come out of someone else's mouth made you want to vom - though maybe that was the alcohol. "Marry Brett and kill Bo's mom"

"No, Cheyenne, she's not an option." Amy whined, smacking the flat of her hand against the table in quick, excited hits. "That's not the game."

"I don't care. She sucks!" Cheyenne turned to Dina now, sipping on her fourth of the four beers she had ordered. "Okay, um, okay. Glenn, Garrett and Darren."

"Okay, obviously, I'd kill Glenn. Umm, probably just like slit his throat or tear him limb from limb. Uh, then I'd marry Darren, and I've already fucked Garrett, so I guess him again." Laughter fell across the table, echoing around the room, though your face fell, sudden realisation hitting at Dina's admission: you were drunk, not stupid. "No. No, no, no, really. I have. Don't know why we're laughing, because I did. On Black Friday after we all got sick. I had to erase the security camera footage."

"I knew it!" You screeched, far too loudly considering you were in the middle of a restaurant, pointing an accusing finger at Dina. "I knew he was acting weird! And that cause you two were fucking?"

The rest of the table continued to laugh, your outburst seeming to only add fuel to the fire as Dina nodded along. "We were! I told him he was acting weird, but he was adamant he wasn't."

Sinking back into your seat, you cradled the icy-wet glass of vodka lemonade that sat mostly drank, wallowing in disbelief that Garrett - of all people - wouldn't tell you of such things that were going on in his life. If it weren't for the alcohol running through you, you were certain that you'd have less upset, but something just didn't sit right about Garrett not telling you; maybe he would, in his own time.

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"So do you think you and Adam will stay together?"

You'd lost count of the amount of drinks you'd consumed; glass after glass, shot after shot coming to the table without you ever having to ask. You could barely sit still, the buzz of vodka in your veins, and the need to pee increasing detrimentally with each sip and shot you took.

"Of course. I think. I don't know." Amy stuttered between answers, finally settling on something seemingly honest. Reaching out in her general direction, you grabbed her wrist and fiddled with the hem of her long sleeve. "I mean look, Adam and I have been together a really long time. And I just wanna know that if we are together it's because we want to be, and not because we're afraid of change."

"Because you deserve that Ames! You deserve all much more then that. You should be with someone who loves you, so much." Your words got quieter and quieter as you spoke, a deep sentiment to them that a less sober you would've understood and a more sober Amy may have tears up at.

"Oh, you know, if worse comes to worse, my cousin knows a divorce lawyer in Little Rock. Three jet skis in that garage. You'd be in good hands." Dina confirmed, a firm nod to her words despite her unusually care free state.

"Thanks. But I'm not good at change. I, I never change anything. I've had the same haircut since I was in high school." Amy had had the long, dark curls as long as you'd known her, and to know she'd had it even longer then that didn't surprise you. Amy was always... well, Amy. It was hard to imagine her any other way. "And every now and then I'm like, maybe I'll change my hair. And then I don't."

"I should not be drinking this! I am so out of control!" Justine cried, disrupting the peaceful honestly of the bonding moment; it was the first time you'd gotten Amy to open up about everything all day.

"Pssh, hey, Amy." You whispered, though to anyone else is sounded like your normal tone of voice, right down Amy's ear. "We should go to the hair salon and cut your hair."

Before she could respond to your suggestion, you were being pulled from the red leather booth you had made home in, Cheyenne having slipped out of the booth and decided it was time to use the bars karaoke station.

All things considered, you thought Dina's ladies lunch was a great success, especially when you saw the wide smile that covered Amy's face as she screamed down the microphone.

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Pushing through the doors from the warehouse, you gripped tightly onto Amy's arm that linked through your own, stumbling slightly at the force of practically falling through the weighted doors.

"Careful." Cheyenne chastised, she herself falling into Amy as she tried to walk with some semblance of soberness, the store eerily quiet.

"Does something look different to you?" You asked, the three of you coming to a stop in the middle of the centre aisle. Despite the fact that an entire electronics cabinet had collapsed, glass shattered across the floor and bright, yellow warning tape was sectioning off the destruction, the idea of change was briskly brushed from your minds.

Marcus suddenly appeared at your side, a charming smile curled onto his lips. The maroon jumper with two, thick orange strips across the breadth of his chest, fitted nicely against him. It looked warm. He looked warm. And cosy. "What's up, Y/n? Amy?"

"Um...sup?"

"Hey, uh keep me posted on things." Marcus was always one for weird wording and messages that could easily be misinterpreted, and if you were any more sober, you'd think he was flirting with her, or maybe with you.

"What are you talking about?"

"Just, whatever. I'm around." Marcus winked before walking away, a strong skip in his step as he went.

"Did that make sense to you?" Amy asked hesitantly, the three of you unmoving as you thought on Marcus's words with heavy, heavy heads.

"No."

"Me either."

Unlinking yourself from Amy's stable hold, you stumbled in the direction had just left, your walk a dance to the man that had riddled your thoughts all day long. "I'm gonna go speak to him."

————————————————————————

Trying your best to catch up to Marcus, you staggered around the corner, a tight grip on the end cap as you peered around in search of him. Thankfully, your first check would be your last, as Marcus was walking down the aisle you currently stared down.

"Hey Marcus. Marky. Marcool." An awkward pair of finger guns pointed at Marcus had him stopping in his tracks, turning to you with a look of utter confusion.

"Y/n?"

Walking right up to the taller man, you reached out for the fabric of his jumper, gripping it between your fingers and rubbing your thumbs to feel the smooth cotton. "I love your shirt. It looks good on you." Wrapping your arms around him, you breathed in the smell of the jumper deeply, the looked up, your chin against his chest. "You look good."

"Thank you. Are you okay?" Marcus sounded disbelieving of your words, as though he didn't quite trust them considering your odd behaviour. You couldn't have been speaking truer thoughts.

"Honestly, I think I might be a teeny, tiny, little bit drunk."

Starting to sway the pair of you from side to side, you knocked into Marcus's foot, stumbling, though not for more then a second as Marcus had you pulled tight against him. His own arms encased your own, hands running down past your elbows and lovingly caressing the small of your back. "Oh. Oh. Careful there."

"You're always doing that." You mused without thought, fiddling with the stitching at the hem of his jumper, your chin pressed against the soft material as you looked up at him in warmth.

"Doing what?" The smile that so easily came to Marcus's lips when he was around you was small; hidden joy only to be shared between the two of you. No one else needed to see how you made him feel, not when everyone it mattered to was right in front of him.

"Catching me, when I fall." You stated bluntly, a Dooley, lovesick smile gracing your lips. "Fall for you." You cooed, laughing to yourself as you smooshed your face into Marcus's chest entirely.

"I think maybe you're more then a little drunk." Marcus soothed your hair back against your head, pulling you to look back up at him.

"Maybe. But I'm not wrong. You do it all the time. Like after our first date, I stumbled at the door step and you caught me. And at Halloween, I tripped over my own feet and you caught me. Even the first time I met you, I walked right into you and you caught me."

"I guess we do have a funny way of finding each other." Marcus brushed loose strands of hair behind your ear, his hand the cradling your cheek as he talked to you.

"Yeah, I guess we do."

"What was that about a first date?" Pushing away from him with a laugh, your cheeks flooded with heat. Marcus always had a way to make you laugh and it was always something welcomed with open arms.

"Y/n! Y/n."

Amy and Cheyenne appeared at the end of the aisle, arms linked tighter then before and words more slurred then the last time you'd spoke. "I think we interrupted something."

Though Amy stilled at the realisation of what she was seeing, Cheyenne continued as normal, a wide bubbly smile on her face. "I'm gonna cut Amy's hair!"

"You coming?" Amy asked, a hand reached out to you in a offer to join them. Nodding happily, you turned back to Marcus, hands tucked into the pockets of what had been his jacket but now smelt like you and your laundry detergent.

Gripping Marcus by the biceps, you reached up and kissed his cheek, pulling away and leaving a dazzling smile on his face. "I'll see you later, Marcus."

Running over to Amy and Cheyenne, you linked arms with the girls, joining them in their venture to go and cut Amy's hair somewhere within the store, a wide dopey smile on your face the whole time.

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"Okay, I think we're done. What do you think?" Cheyenne spun Amy to face the mirror, a wide smile on her face not mirrored on Amy's own.

"Oh, yeah. This really, um, it's, it's subtle." Amy combed her fingers through her hair, the length now resting just below her shoulders, still quite long and wavy.

"Well, I didn't wanna change it up too much. You know, baby steps, right? Also, I don't really know what I'm doing yet. Also, I'm drunk." Threading your fingers into the dark hairs, you pulled lightly at the strands, toying with the idea of short haired Amy and the fact something still didn't look right.

At Amy's clear faked smile, Cheyenne frantically played with the hair, tousling it and moving it in an attempt to make it look better. "What? Did I cut too much off? Are you freaking out right now?"

"Don't freak out Ames, it's okay! You look beautiful!" You assured, smooshing your face against Amy's, your hand cupping her face to your own as you held her face in your hands.

"No. No, no. I was just, um, I don't know." Amy picked up the scissors that Cheyenne had just been using, brining them up to the side of her face that you weren't smooshed against and placing them through her hair, just below her ear. "I was, like, thinking something more, like, like this."

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Hey guys!! I am back :DDDDD

I AM SO EXICTED TO PULISH THIS PART AND THE NEXT THREE. LET ME TELL YOU THEY ARE GOIONG TO BE SOOOOOOOO GOOD.

I hope you have all had a lovely week while I've been gone. And, as always, I hope you have a lovely week to come!! <333333333

p.s requested fic will be dropped on Friday

p.s.s its good

#sitting on the shelf marcus white x reader #superstore x reader #cloud 9 #superstore imagine #marcus white #marcus white x reader #marcus superstore #marcus white imagine #superstore marcus imagine

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camillafanfiction · 2 years

Text

Love changes everything - Chapter 1

9th October 1975, Bloehyde Manor

The wind blew cold and heavy, rattling on the shutters. Thank goodness the horses were safe and sound in their stables, the dogs had curled up in the hall and 10-months-old Tom was fast asleep in his cot in his own room. Thank goodness she sat here on her comfy sofa and had her nose stuck in an exciting thriller, the radio quietly playing some classical music. Thank goodness she had decided against that birthday bash of one of her husband's comrades at the Ritz. Usually, Andrew expected her to join him, but Camilla had felt a bit sick and she knew, too, Andrew wouldn’t be lonesome tonight anyway. She was nowhere near to accepting her husband’s ongoing affairs with all sorts of girls, but she herself found great comfort in her friendship with the Prince of Wales. If it were up to Charles, she would be sleeping with him and she wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to resist his constant courting. It was just way too wonderful to be adored and loved like that. And she still loved him, too. Camilla, however, was rather unwilling to break her marriage vow. Charles had rung her earlier today - they spoke most days and these were the highlights of both their days. Maybe, if Charles was going to try and kiss her again, she would just follow her heart and kiss him back. Or maybe she would hiss at him and push him away if Andrew would be very sweet again the upcoming weekend. Today was a Thursday and tomorrow afternoon Andrew would come home to spend the weekend with his wife and son. He’d be the perfect husband and bring some small presents for either Tom or Camilla. Or maybe he wouldn’t… Usually, he just brought flowers when he had slept with one of her best friends, so she’d be happy if she wasn’t going to receive any.

Right after they had spoken their vows two years ago, Camilla had had hopes that Andrew would finally stop his philandering, but she knew now that it was never going to stop. But he still was her husband and she loved him. That was why she’d married him. They were perfect for each other or so she had once thought. Now she sometimes found herself wondering what her life would look like had she not accepted his sudden proposal. Andrew was a wonderful father, at least, and they worked well as a team in front of everyone. Everything else would fall into place one day, Camilla was sure.

The radio beeped in an unsettling way, startling Camilla from her book. These had to be the 10 p.m. news already, she sighed to herself and yawned heartily. She really got lost in books way too quickly when she was all on her own. The old grandfather-clock struck 10 p.m., it was always a little late, and drowned out the news. Apparently, there had been another IRA bombing again, but Camilla hadn’t understood where. As she was scuffling to the radio, the reporter was already talking about something else, so Camilla just turned it off with a shake of her head and went upstairs. There was some rustling in Tom’s room, so she peeked in, but found her little boy fast asleep in his cot. Tom was her and Andrew’s pride and joy. They’d had to wait a bit longer than expected for his arrival, but that made the joy of his being even bigger. Tom was a happy baby and everyone seemed to be besotted with him. Especially Charles, his god-father, took a great fancy to him. He often came to visit Tom - and even more often to visit Camilla, too. It calmed Camilla’s heart a little to know that Charles loved her son so dearly even though he disliked Andrew so much. Till that day Charles couldn’t understand why out of all the men she had chosen Andrew, not him, Camilla knew. Of course Charles, like humiliatingly everyone in their circle, knew about Andrew’s affairs, and he despised Andrew for it, for not treating Camilla the way she deserved it. But it didn’t matter. She had chosen Andrew, she was stuck with him forever, they would have more children and maybe one day Andrew would realise what an amazing wife he had.

Having brushed her teeth, Camilla shuffled to her bed, flopped down and fell into a deep sleep immediately. Today had been exhausting: a baby, two dogs, a house with a big garden and several horses didn’t just exist on their own. They all needed care and love and during the week Camilla was the only one to give it to each of them. And only sometimes she was aware that she might also need someone to look after her and to love her, too.

In fact, Camilla had fallen so tightly asleep that she only subconsciously noticed the doorbell, the knocks on the door and the voices that called “Mrs. Parker Bowles!” She murmured something in her sleep, but eventually turned on the lamp on her bed-side table to take a look at her watch. It was half past one in the morning. What on earth would someone want from her at that time of the night? They had certainly woken Tom, he was crying, she sighed.

Camilla wasn’t one to be afraid, Allington was a peaceful village and a burglar wouldn’t shout her name like that. Had one of the horses been afraid of the storm and escaped the stable, she mused as she threw on her dressing gown. Well, she would find out soon, she thought to herself as she grabbed her baby, walked down the stairs and called “I’m coming!”. A second later she flung the door open and looked into the frowning faces of a middle-aged police officer, a brigadier of the Blues and Royals and a tearful major, Ernest, one of Andrew’s comrades. She instantly knew something was wrong. “What’s with Andrew?”, she uttered before her face turned pale and her knees wobbly.

Trevor Davidson, the Prince of Wales’s private secretary, knocked two times at the office door and then peeked in. “Sir?”, he asked quietly and bowed his head. He knew Charles was working on a speech for an upcoming engagement, though it was almost around one in the morning, and he hated being disturbed. But Trevor knew, too, that the Prince needed to hear the news he had.

“Hm?”, Charles replied without looking up or paying any further attention to Trevor. He was in a flow and wanted to finish that speech. He had no time for chit chat now.

“Sir, I have some news regarding the bombing.”, Trevor tried again.

Charles had heard a little bit of the detonation and had immediately known that the IRA had struck again. Half an hour later he had been told that, indeed, there had been an IRA attack on Green Park Underground station, just opposite of the Ritz. If only there was a way to teach humankind peace and harmony…! “Yes?”, he asked, raising his head and eyebrows expecitionally.

Trevor took a deep breath, he wasn’t quite sure how to put what he had to say, but decided to say it as it was. “You might be aware that a friend of Mr. and Mrs. Parker Bow-”

For a moment Charles heard his blood rushing through his veins and felt his pulse quickening but then firmly interrupted his secretary, “Mrs. Parker Bowles is not staying in London tonight.”

Trevor nodded. “No, Sir.”

Charles sighed relieved. “Go on then.” His fingertips thumbed on the table.

Trevor nodded again, gathering his thoughts. “Major Ernest Aldersham was hosting a party at the Ritz tonight and Major Parker Bowles was in attendance. While he was at the restrooms he noticed something ominous.” Charles didn’t want to know why, when and how Andrew frequented a lavatory at the Ritz, but tried to look patient at his secretary while he continued. “Major Parker Bowles knocked on the door and was immediately run over by the terroroist who was constructing a bomb in that very restroom. The Major, however, bounced back and run after the man, fully aware that the latter had a bomb in his arms. He chased him out of the hotel, but couldn’t hinder that the Irishman threw the bomb at the undergroundstation. The terrorist was able to chase away in his getaway car, but Major Parker Bowles was instantly killed by the bomb.”

There was a moment of silence in which the prince’s face turned grey and pale. “The Major is…”

“Dead, Sir. Yes.”, Trevor confirmed, feeling uncomfortable.

“Are you a hundred percent sure it is Major Parker Bowles?” Charles asked, praying that this was a factual error.

“Yes, Sir.”

Charles' blood froze. He had to function now. “Does Mrs. Parker Bowles know already?”

“As far as I know there’s a squad on its way to her.” Trevor was well aware of the rumours surrounding the prince’s very special friendship with Mrs. Parker Bowles, they were well circulating in the royal household, but Trevor had never paid any attention to them. He had seen them together twice and to him it was as plain as the nose on their faces that the two of them were in love. But it was neither his place to judge nor to be interested in.

“I will go and see her!” Charles declared not quite to Trevor’s surprise.

#Camilla Parker Bowles #queen camilla #queen camilla fic #duchess of cornwall fic #king charles iii fic #king charles fic #prince charles fic #au #Andrew Parker Bowles #sorry andrew #King Charles III #royal fanfiction #royal fic

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tomorrowxtogether · 2 years

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ExclusiveTOMORROW X TOGETHER Tease ‘Secret’ Setlist for First-Ever ‘ACT : LOVE SICK’ World Tour

youtube

They’re getting ready for tour! K-pop sensations TOMORROW X TOGETHER (TXT) announced their first-ever world tour — the ACT: LOVE SICK tour — last month, but, when it comes to what fans can expect, members SOOBIN, YEONJUN, BEOMGYU, TAEHYUN and HUENING KAI are staying tight-lipped.

“Our setlist is still a secret,” the group tells J-14 exclusively. However, they did tease that “a lot” of tracks from their latest EP, Minisode 2: Thursday’s Child, are sure to be included. Ahead of the album’s release on May 9, the collection of songs was set to be the band’s biggest release yet.

“It’s an honor,” TXT tells J-14. “And we’re very happy that so many people are excited about our music. We’re very thankful. Thank you so much.”

When comparing the latest release to October 2020’s Minisode 1 : Blue Hour, the group explains that “sound-wise and style-wise it does feel like they are opposites.” TXT adds, “Our music is, in a broader sense, one big growth story.”

For Minisode 2: Thursday’s Child specifically, TXT took listeners on a musical journey. They explain, “This EP is about the emotions of a boy who went through a breakup during the transitional period from adolescence to adulthood.”

They continue, “Everyone is bound to experience a significant farewell in their lives — whether it be love, friendship or just with something precious. We thought back to the emotions we had in those moments, and that helped a lot during the creative process.”

When it comes to the future of their music, the boys are looking to explore new genres. “Our members’ voice goes well with jazzy music,” they note, teasing that jazz just might be the next big thing for TXT. But, they still want to focus on the theme of transitioning into adulthood with their songs.

“We’re at the stage where we’re faced with reality and limits as to what we can do and achieve, and we have heard from our friends around us that they feel this way,” the group also tells J-14. “These are emotions that can be felt by practically anyone in the process of growing up. So, we incorporated these stories into the songs in our new EP.”

Minisode 2: Thursday’s Child is out now. The United States leg of the ACT: LOVE SICK tour kicks off in July.

#txt #tomorrow x together #220518 #article #j14 #j14 magazine #soobin #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #hueningkai

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unknowncountrygirl · 1 year

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Curse Breaker’s Gambit Ch.6

How Iris managed to get Badeea's spark back, and get Tulip's anger to simmer down... He wasn't sure, but that night they managed to have another practice.

With that said, Iris had given him a stern talking too that he had to treat them with kid gloves and if he started to act up she was going to elbow him in the ribs as a reminder to calm down.

He managed only three elbows. They practiced every night the rest of the week as their schedules allowed, weather it was thirty minutes or two hours. Thankfully Iris and Murphy were able to practice together in the Common room, and Tulip and Badeea were able to do the same after curfew.

It was Thursday night, they were leaving in the morning to head to Diagon Alley, and instead of playing chess Murphy and Iris were both in the library hunched over their respective books. Murphy had his nose in a chess theory book he had only recently discovered, and he managed not to chide Iris as her's was currently in a book about David Austin roses.

“So are you packed yet?” Iris asked as she looked up from her book.

“I'm 91.7 percent packed, all except my toiletries.” Murphy told her not looking up from his book.

“I still need to pack, honestly I should be doing that instead of reading.” Iris said as she flipped her book shut. “I still have no idea what to wear. How are you dressing for this?”

“I'm just wearing my slacks, and my usual button up, but I'm wearing a chess piece pin instead of my snitch pin Mum sent me.”

“Hold the presses! Murphy is switching up his pins!” Iris joked. “So like, if I wear a dress or a skirt I'll be fine? So long as I don't wear anything to distracting?”

Distracting. Murphy suddenly got a brilliant idea and he wasn't sure why he didn't think if it sooner.

“No... I think distracting is perfect.” He said slowly.

“Have you gone mad?” She asked, looking at him oddly.

“I think distracting them would be beneficial, like in a subtle way that won't make everyone think we're trying to distract our opponents.” Murphy told Iris quietly.

“Oh? You think?” She leaned in, excited to hear what he had come up with.

“You know that skirt you wore to the party in the boathouse-”

“You remember that skirt?”

“Everyone remember's that skirt.” Murphy told her pointedly.

“Was it... That ugly?” Iris asked. Murphy gave her a look of someone disgusted, and bewildered.

“You're joking, right?” He asked, “the black skirt? With that matching blouse that showed just the slightest bit of your ribs? With the pompom fringe?”

“Yeah, I thought it was cute.”

“It wasn't cute.” Murphy said bluntly, and Iris's eyes doubled. “It was sex appeal at its finest. Take it from someone who is ass level with the world, your bum is the bum everyone wants, and in that skirt you made a lot of people very jealous... And or horny.” A blush crept across her cheeks and her ears.

“Well now I am most certainly not wearing that skirt!” Iris shook her head slapping her book shut.

“Fine. How about your high waisted jeans? With that blue cropped sweater you have?”

“Murphy!”

“Like I said, I'm ass level with the world and I consider myself fairly qualified to judge bums.” He told her pointedly. “Again, yours is a top quality bum.”

“Well I wouldn't know, I've never seen it.”

“Shame.” He shook his head with a smile, “so will you consider the jeans-”

“You're on thin ice pal.” Iris shot him a mock angry look, but the two both chuckled lightly. “Honestly though, I should probably go pack.”

“I'll head back to the tower with you, so long as you don't mind the company.”

“I never mind your company.” Iris told him sincerely and that same little part in his chest that felt warm, felt warm all over again.

“Well, thats very kind... Usually people get sick of me talking.” He told her honestly as he slid his books into his bag as Iris collected her books that she had checked out.

“I feel like with other people you seem to have diarrhea of the mouth-”

“Iris that's disgusting!” Murphy shook his head at her imagery. She laughed and explained herself more.

“Hear me out, with other people you're constantly on analytical alert, and it just seems like with me... You're more relaxed and aren't always thinking about numbers and trying to impress me. If you don't mind me saying, it feels like you're the most comfortable around me then anyone else.”

“It's because you are.” He told her honestly. If Iris had figured it out, there was no reason to hide anything from her at this point. “I've said it before, and that's that I have to put all of me out there al the time so people don't just see the guy in the wheelchair. You came into my life and for the first time I didn't have to do that, because you actually just saw Murphy McNully. The chair was secondary to me.” He and Iris stopped in the hallway, looking at one another, and truthfully Murphy had never felt more vulnerable.

“You have a lot to offer the world, Murphy, and the people who don't see that don't deserve your attention or your effort.” She told him wholeheartedly.

I'm going to marry this girl, and I'm going to protect her from all who mean her harm, Murphy told himself in that moment. No one else had ever said that to him except his Mother and his Gran. Iris could preform magic without a wand, she could conjure a full corperal patronus, she was an animagus, she had broken the six cursed vaults that haunted the school and broken the chains of bondage that lurked everywhere. She stared down evil witches and wizards and kept her ground, kept fighting and yet never lost herself. She had some of the top marks in their classes, she was a jack of all trades when it came to Quiddicth.

Peacemaker. Breaker of chains. Reliable. Honest. Breaker of curses. Saint. Steadfast. Faithful. Will of iron. Resolute. Unyielding. Unbending. Forged in fire, with the face of a doll.

Then he had a thought, and wondered...

“I could say the same thing for you. Your worth is intangible, and I wonder if you understand just how precious you are.” He told her, and by the look on her face... She had not heard such words spoken to her before. “Your friends, including me, have failed you if you don't know that about yourself.”

He could almost see the last remaining wall between them come crumbling down in front of him. The wall that kept whatever this was between them platonic, and opened him up to a whole knew world of possibly gaining what he thought of was ultimate happiness, or ultimate destruction.

“You've never failed me.” Iris said so quietly he almost missed it. “In my deepest darkness, you were the only one there.”

“I'll always be.” He promised her, and in the most heartbreaking confession he had ever heard-

“And I believe you.” How many broken promises had people made to her that she had to acknowledge that she believed what he was saying? “Thank you, Murphy.”

“Thank you, Iris.” There was a few moments of silence before Iris broke it.

“I have to tell you something... About when we first met.” He felt his heart speed up, wondering what it was she was about to tell him, “in truth, the first thing I saw was a pretty face.” She smiled, lightening the mood. He couldn't help but smile back just as bright.

“Are you saying you think I'm a pretty boy, Iris?” He placed his hand over his chest, and wiggled his brows at her.

“It's the least I can do, since you told me I have the best bum.” She smiled, slapping her butt. “It is pretty good isn't it?”

“Absolutely!” He laughed. “I know my butts.” The two laughed together, just enjoying the moment and being purely happy.

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

The plan was to meet in the courtyard around 8am, and head together to the Three Broomsticks, and use Madam Rosemerta's floo to get into Diagon Alley by way of the Leaky Cauldron. McGonagall had made plans for them to stay in the Inn at the Leaky Cauldron on Friday night so that they didn't have to travel back and forth Friday night and Saturday morning for the tournament.

Murphy was the first one in the courtyard, thirty minutes before the meeting time because he was so excited to get going. Badeea and Tulip arrived together with their overnight bags. The three chatted for a few minutes before Iris arrived.

Murphy had to smile when he saw Iris walking down the hallway to meet the team, wearing the high waisted jeans... And a cropped white cardigan. Her makeup was done and her hair was done up in a half up high ponytail that made her already thick hair look even more full.

“Fuck, Iris looks hot.” Tulip whistled.

“Yeah she does.” Murphy nodded in agreement before he realized it was Tulip who had commented on Iris's looks. Oh my God... A realization suddenly hit Murphy, and that was he was not the only one to see Iris for her beauty and her mind, and that didn't just include the male portion of the dating pool.

“Iris is always as lovely as a painting, you seem as though you are just now realizing her beauty.” Badeea pointed out to Tulip.

“Trust me, I'm not just now realizing it. If Iris played for the other team I'd be all over her.” Tulip admitted to Badeaa and Murphy. “She made it clear to me though before, that she is very much heterosexual and we are just friends.” Murphy felt like he could breathe again, it was worrisome enough to think about competing against the guys, let alone the girls as well.

“On the topic of Iris's beauty, do you think her hair has magical properties?” Badeea asked the two of them.

“What do you mean?” Murphy asked her.

“Well Veela's have magical hair, other countries use Veela hair as wand core.” She told him.

“I would assume so, considering that Iris's own wand core string has her own hair in it.” Tulip mentioned. Badeea looked stunned for a moment.

“Iris's wand is made from her own hair?”

“Yeah, Ollivander doesn't work with pure Veela hair, but he suggested trying Iris's since she's half Veela and it worked amazingly.”

“Iris is half Veela?” Murphy was less interested in her wand and more interested in that portion of information.

“Uh, yeah? Have you ever like even looked at her?” Tulips laughed loudly. “Typically people don't have hair that white without there being something in their blood.”

“Who's blood are we talking about?” Iris asked as she came up to the three of them.

“Yours.”

“Mine?” Iris questioned Badeea as the four of them began to head towards Hogsmead.

“About how you're half Veela, and your wand.” Tulip told her.

“Ok, that's not really interesting.” Iris chuckled.

“It is for people who had no idea you were Veela.” Murphy told her.

“Oh really?” Iris asked him, “people gossip about me so much I figured everyone knew. I'm sorry you're the last to know.”

“Honestly, I should have put it all together. Veela's are harpy like creatures when they're mad, I mean the puzzle just fits itself.” He joked and she narrowed her eyes at him, but had a smile on her lips. “It brings a whole knew meaning to the fact that you're a Harpy Eagle in your animagus form.”

“Oh my gosh I never thought of that!” Tulip laughed loudly. The conversation was light, and they shared a lot of laughs on their way to the Three Broomsticks.

Murphy though was waiting for his moment to comment of Iris's choice of clothing. It was rather funny to him that they were all dressed more scholastically and Iris had opted for her jeans.

After Badeea and Tulip had disappeared into a green blaze, Murphy took his moment.

“So uh... You're wearing the jeans-”

“Sod off... These happen to be my favorite jeans.” Iris cut him off, a grin on her face. Oh... She knows exactly what she's doing, he thought to himself.

“Mine too!” He laughed loudly, enjoying their flirting. Yes, flirting, this was exactly what it was and he was not going to act like it wasn't. Their little flirtations had changed the night previous in the library, this was just plain out loud flirtation and if Iris was willing to dish it out just as much as he did... Who was he to stop.

Murphy had to smile, but leaned back just a little to admire her bum as she grabbed a handful of floo powder.

“I saw that.”

“I meant you to.” Where that answer had come from, he had no idea.

“Oh you're cheeky today.” She wagged a finger at him accusingly.

“Haven't a bloody clue what you're talking about.” He grinned up at her.

“I'm surprised you don't slap it for good luck.” Iris turned around, floo powder in one hand and hand on the hip.

“Is that an option?” Murphy grinned, holding his hand up, wiggling his fingers.

“Murphy!” Iris shrieked, shaking her head. “Leaky Cauldron!” She smashed the floo powder to her feet and disappeared in a blaze of bright neon green.

#hphm #murphy mcnully x mc #Murphy mcnully #hphm murphy #murphy mcnully x jacob's sibling #murphy mcnully imagine #Iris Rosewood

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sneezyminniejo · 2 years

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can i request like a sick and sneezy sunghoon fic? maybe the boys have plans to take him ice skating again because he talked about missing it, but he happens to be sick on the day of? i also feel like he would try to hide it because he wants to go ice skating, but some of the boys(maybe heeseung and jake) would be suspicious and watch him super closely while they go. maybe they could take him home early because he starts to get super run down. that's all i got!! i really hope this wasn't too much. <33

Here it is Hope you enjoy

Skating Fatigue

Sunghoon had been acting off the past couple and it was slightly concerning to his members. When Jungwon had asked him about it, he replied with something about pent up energy that his usual schedules weren’t helping with. The leader had had a meeting with the rest of the group minus Sunghoon, and they decided to bring him to an ice rink because the last time the skater had been skating was their en’oclock episode. None of them had missed how happy he had looked to be on the ice, so they figured that maybe his pent up energy might just be him itching to get on the ice again.

The planning hadn’t been too hard. The group had a day off in a couple of days and Jungwon knew for a fact that everyone was planning to just laze around the dorm, so he got management to do their best to rent out a rink for their day off, knowing that having a rink all to themselves might not be possible, but it would be more ideal. As soon as management had gotten back to the leader on which ice rink the group could go to, he texted the group chat that he arranged plans for their day off. He left the details kind of vague because he wanted to try to surprise his hyung with the skating trip. Jungwon had made a separate group chat that didn’t have Sunghoon in it so they could more properly prepare the surprise trip.

Sunghoon sighed as he woke up on their day off. He had been coming down with something the entire week, and he swears it is the slowest moving bug he has ever dealt with. On Monday he had a headache. On Tuesday and Wednesday he had a sore throat. It was bad enough that he had secretly gone to the clinic to get a strep test, which was negative. The doctor said he was probably just overusing his voice or coming down with a cold. On Thursday, Sunghoon was finally able to feel that his sore throat was being caused by postnasal drip and was equal parts relieved that he was sick and disappointed that he would be sick on the group’s day off.

Now it was Friday and Sunghoon had had a difficult time sleeping as the congestion had finally set in, making it hard to find a good position to be in and still breathe. It seemed that he had finally drifted off to sleep when Jungwon began waking the room up so they could all get ready for whatever secret activity he had planned. While he was in the bathroom, Sunghoon did his best to blow his nose and clear out his sinuses. Then He joined the others for breakfast. Thankfully, his cold didn’t appear to affect his appetite too much, because he was able to eat the amount he normally does. Sunghoon had thought about telling his members that he’s sick and that he wanted to stay at the dorm to rest, but everyone seemed so excited about the surprise outing that he didn’t want to be a party pooper.

When it came time to get ready to go, Jungwon told everyone to grab a jacket because it would be chilly where they’re going. While Sunghoon was getting his jacket, Heeseung had come into the maknae’s room to grab Sunghoon’s ice skating duffel. Sunghoon had passed Heeseung carrying his duffle, but his mind was too tired and foggy to realize that it was his skate duffle let alone make the connection between the duffel and being told to grab a jacket. He joined the others in the van and wound up falling asleep with his head on the window almost immediately after sitting down.

Heeseung was a little concerned. He had literally walked past Sunghoon carrying ice skates, and the younger didn’t even give him a second glance. He had been certain that Sunghoon would question him since he has no business being in possession of one of his prized items. Add that to the fact that he fell asleep right after sitting down, Heeseung was pretty sure that Sunghoon was either sick, getting sick, or just had a rough night.

Sunghoon had picked the window seat in the back of the van. Jake in the middle and Heeseung on Jake's other side. It hadn’t taken long before Jake began to hear soft snores coming from the younger member. The Aussie glanced up and saw that no one aside from Heeseung seemed to notice that Sunghoon had become dead to the world in a matter of seconds.

“Hey, hyung. Does Sunghoon seem a little off to you?” Jake whispered to Heeseung, not wanting to risk waking the sleeping member, even though the other four members were being pretty loud. Heeseung nodded his head. “Yeah, I walked right past him carrying his skates and there was no reaction.” Heeseung quickly turned to face the chair in front of him.

“Wonnie, do you know how everyone slept last night in your room?” Jungwon turned to the elder, noticing Sunghoon’s sleeping figure in the process. “I think for the most part everyone slept fine, but there was a bit of tossing and turning from Sunghoon’s bunk.” Heeseung nodded at that and let Jungwon go back to his conversation with the others.

Heeseung turned back to Jake “Let’s keep an eye on him. I’m hoping he’s just tired from not sleeping well, but he also seemed a bit too out of it for a sleepless night.” Jake agreed then the duo went to scrolling on their phones until they reached the ice rink.

Upon arriving at the ice rink, Jake made it his job to wake the younger member. Heeseung had gotten out to grab Sunghoon’s skates, while the rest of the group went to get their rentals. Jake shook Sunghoon’s shoulder and was met with the younger’s eyes fluttering open.

“Good morning Hoonie. We’re here, time to get up.” Sunghoon groaned a little as he stretched out his arms. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before following Jake out of the van. Seeing as he had just woken up, it didn’t fully register to the figure skater that they were at the rink until he felt the much cooler air on his body.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened a bit when he saw the rink, a smile spreading across his face before turning into a frown. “What’s wrong hyung?” Sunoo asked upon noticing the elder’s down demeanor.

“I don’t have my skates.” At that the other members chuckled before Sunoo gestured to Heeseung who was carrying Sunghoon’s skates. Sunghoon’s smile returned immediately as he went over to the oldest member so he could put on his skates. Meanwhile, Heeseung's thought about Sunghoon not having realized him taking his skates was back at the forefront of his mind.

Sunghoon was elated that his members had planned a trip to the ice rink. He still felt rather terrible and he still kind of wished he could be in bed sleeping. However the thought his members put into the surprise because he had been acting off made him thoroughly happy. There was no way he was going to admit to being sick now, even if someone were to ask him. He put on his skates as quickly as he could before getting on the ice.

Everyone was thoroughly enjoying the ice rink. Some were falling more than others, but all seven members were having fun. However, Jake noticed Sunghoon either leaning against the wall or leaving the rink to sit down far more frequently than he normally does when they spend the entire day doing dance practice. During one of the breaks, Jake skated over to Sunghoon to check in.

“Hey Sung, how’re you doing?” Sunghoon seemed to startle slightly when Jake spoke. “I’m great hyung, I’m really glad to be on the ice again. There’s just something so carefree about it ya know?” Jake didn’t miss the stifled yawn that Sunghoon attempted while he was talking, nor did he miss the slight congestion lacing the younger’s voice. Jake spent the next couple of minutes chatting with Sunghoon, becoming increasingly aware that he was clearly exhausted. There was a brief moment where Sunghoon had unintentionally fallen asleep while Jake was talking. Sunghoon’s head had fallen onto Jake’s shoulder. Jake smiled softly and ran his hand through the younger’s hair, frowning a little at the warmth he felt.

Jake shook Sunghoon awake. “You sure you’re feeling okay? You just fell asleep on my shoulder.” Sunghoon shook his head in negation. “I’m fine. I just need another couple of minutes.” Jake nodded before going back into the rink.

Jake skated over to Heeseung as quickly as he could without falling. “Hyung, Sunghoon has a fever and fell asleep on my shoulder. He says he’s fine, but he’s clearly not. I think we should bring him home so he can rest.” Heeseung nodded his head in response. The duo spent a minute brainstorming how to convince Sunghoon to agree to go home, since he clearly didn’t want to ruin their day off.

Ultimately they knew that since the skating trip was more to lift Sunghoon’s spirits than anything else, they wouldn’t mind if they all went home. They decided on just telling everyone what was going on and go from there. The duo rounded everyone up where Sunghoon was still sitting.

“Guys, I know we’ve only been here for a couple of hours, but it’s time to go.” Heeseung said, earning confused looks from everyone but Jake. “Sunghoon is sick.” Jake said before looking over to Sunghoon. “Don’t try to deny it, I felt your fever when you fell asleep on me.” Sunghoon looked a bit sheepish at that. “I didn’t know I had a fever, but hyung’s right, I've been sick for a couple of days. It wasn’t anything too noticeable until this morning though.” The other four members were quick to agree to head back to the dorm, so they packed up their things.

The group arrived at the dorm and quickly got settled. Jay went to the kitchen to make lunch for everyone and Riki pulled out Cards Against Humanity after making sure that everyone would be okay playing it. Sunoo and Jungwon helped Jay bring the food out for everyone. They all quickly ate lunch before moving on to the card game.

Sunghoon was falling asleep before all the cards could be dealt out. He didn’t feel like retiring to his room to sleep, so he took over the couch. That way he could watch the chaos or fall asleep, whichever his body prefers. The group did their best to play the game as quietly as possible, but it can be difficult for six men to stifle laughter.

For a bit, the group had forgotten that Jake had said that Sunghoon had a fever until Riki accidentally brushed his hand against his forehead. “Hyungs, we should probably check his temp. He doesn’t feel too hot, but should make sure.” Jungwon got up to grab the thermometer. He came back and scanned his hyung’s forehead. It came back as a mild fever, and everyone was glad to hear it.

Sunghoon spent the next half hour dozing on and off as he listened to his members playing. He eventually sat up and decided to join in on the game. As the game wore on, it became more and more apparent that Sunghoon’s main issue aside from fatigue and a fever, was congestion. Jay got up and grabbed Sunghoon a box of tissues.

“Thanks guys, for today. I really did enjoy going to the ice rink again, even though I didn’t really have the energy for it.” Sunghoon said after he blew his nose.

“It was no problem, hyung. You were acting a little off, and we thought getting to skate might make you feel better. Had we known that you were getting sick, we would have planned this outing for later.” Jungwon said. The group went back to playing their game after the short conversation.

The group only had the one day off, but Jungwon did make sure to tell their manager about Sunghoon’s fever so that he could have a couple more days off to rest. The group also had staggered solo schedules for the next few days, so it was easy to make sure that at least one member was able to keep Sunghoon company.

#sickfic #enhypen

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