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#who was churning out prompt fics left and right
acewritesfics · 5 months
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I'm Late | Jay Halstead
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Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
Request: From anon
Fic Type: Imagine. Can be read as a prequel to Baby Halstead
Prompt: "You're my voice of reason but right now I need you to shut up." 
Warnings: Mentions of feeling sick, period talk, pregnancy.
Word Count: 1,921
JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST | TAG LIST SIGN-UP
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⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.
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As Y/N studies the file Trudy handed her as soon as she entered the station, she is slouched over with her elbows resting on her desk and her fingers massaging her temple. She finds it difficult to focus on the written words on the papers, and the more she tries the worse her nausea and headache becomes. 
Jay ends their conversation with Atwater about their weekend plans and turns to face his girlfriend when she doesn't respond to a question, he's asked her. His face furrowed into a worried expression. She didn't look well last night and this morning, her mood was all over the place, and she had been strangely quiet since they had their morning shower together. 
"Are you okay?" he asks after he gets her attention. 
"I'm fine," she sighs as she shoots up from her chair and rushes out of the bullpen and into the restroom, a wave of nausea washing over her once more. 
Jay wasn't the only person who noticed the odd shift in Y/N. He steps out from behind his desk as Kim gets up from hers, assuring him she'll go check on her. As he sits down, he nods, silently thanking her. His concern for his fiancée has him unable to concentrate on the file in front of him. He leans back in his chair, monitoring the entrance, nervously chewing his cheek, and tapping his pen against his knee as he waits for her to return. 
Y/N is slumped over one of the toilets in the restroom, unsure if the bile in her stomach will come up. She shuts her eyes and wills her stomach to stop churning and her head to stop spinning. 
"Y/N?" From the doorway, Kim's quiet voice can be heard. 
She stands up and braces herself against the cubicle's metal walls as her head spins, calling out to her from the end stall, "In here." 
"Are you sure you're alright?" Kim asks, her expression apprehensive. In comparison to five minutes ago, Y/N looks worse. She nods her head before swinging her head side to side. The brunette detective steps forward to comfort her. "What's wrong?" 
She informs her, "I'm late." 
"Late?" Kim questions her. When Y/N gives her a look, Kim's eyes widen in surprise. "How late are you?" 
"About 2 to 3 weeks," she responds, recalling last night when she realized her period was late. She never kept track of it, but every month, give or take a few days, she always got it around the same time. However, it was never this late.  
She first reasoned with herself that she might not have remembered having it two weeks earlier since she's been so preoccupied with work, the upcoming wedding, and the drama going on between her parents. But then she remembered back to seven weeks ago. She'd gotten her period the Monday before her, and Jay went away for the weekend. She was down to her last two sanitary items when it ended the Friday morning they left for the cabin. She made a note in her phone to get more when her period started next. That Friday night and Saturday had been spent mostly in bed and there might have been one time they forgot to be careful. 
"Do you believe you might be?" 
"Maybe. I'm not sure," She breathes. 
"Have you spoken with Jay?" 
Shaking her head, Y/N "It might just be pre-wedding jitters, right? When you're under pressure, periods can be late." 
"Is Jay still going out with Will tonight?" Kim enquiries. 
She nods, "He is. Will said something about it being bachelor party business." 
"Well then, how about a girls' night at your place?" Kim suggests. "I'll provide the snacks and pregnancy tests, and you can order some pizza and choose the movies." 
"I don't have a choice, do I?" Y/N asks, looking at her anxiously. 
"Hell no," Kim smiles.  
She asks jokingly, "What would I do without you, Kim Burgess?" 
"Crash and burn," Kim responds. "This is what best friends and work partners are for. Now, let's get back out there before Jay bursts in with guns blazing." 
Kim leads Y/N out of the restroom, then let's go of her when they reach the bullpen. Jay is still waiting warily at his desk when Y/N approaches him. Her legs are crossed in front of her as she leans on his desk with her arms folded across her chest. 
Looking up at her with the same deeply concerned blue eyes as before, he asks, "Everything okay?" 
"I've got a headache but it's finally going away," she tells him, and it's not a lie. "Kim is coming over tonight while you're out with Will. Bachelorette party business." 
"You know, we could disappoint them both, forgo the bachelor/bachelorette parties, and just spend the night together, just the two of us," he proposes, a hopeful look in his eyes. Jay is still unaware of his brother's plans for his party, and a part of him is afraid to find out. 
"And rob them of their duties as best man and maid of honor?" she asks, smiling and feeling considerably better than a few minutes ago. For the time being, she pushes her possible pregnancy to the back of her mind as they focus on wedding talk. "We'd break their little hearts, and I don't think I can handle Kim staring at me with those puppy eyes." 
He concurs with her, saying, "I don't think I can handle seeing them too." 
She reassures him, "It was a wonderful suggestion, though. Perfect even." 
He smiles again, this time with a mischievous glimmer in his eye, "Maybe next time." 
"Next time?" she asks, pretending to be upset, knowing he was joking with her.  "Honey, I may not be the first person you said, 'I do' with, but I'm damn sure going to be the last." 
He chuckles, "I meant in 40 years when we renew our vows, and the kids are all grown up." 
Her smile falters a little at the mention of kids. Jay catches it, but Hank exits his office with a piece of paper in his hand before he can say anything. 
"Halstead, Upton, I need you two to go check out this person," he orders, handing Hailey the piece of paper. 
"I love you. Be safe," Y/N instructs Jay as he gets up and puts his jacket on. It was something the two of them say often before they leave the district without each other. 
"I love you too and I will," he responds, kissing her lips briefly before following Hailey down the stairs. Y/N returns to the file on her desk, now that she can focus better on it. 
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Later on in the evening, Y/N sat by herself on the couch as she awaited Jay's return from his night out with his brother. Before Kim and Hailey, whom Y/N had invited when she and Jay returned to the district, forced her into the bathroom, she managed to spend a significant portion of the night avoiding the two pregnancy test boxes that were sitting on the kitchen counter. Hailey didn't require much persuasion once Kim explained what was going on; she immediately agreed to whatever Kim had planned. It was a two-on-one situation, and Y/N regretted agreeing with Kim's plans for tonight. 
Just as they were about to find out the results, Jay called Y/N to let her know he was on his way back home. Kim and Hailey both agreed that they should leave so that she could talk to Jay alone but made Y/N promise to keep them in the loop. After the two left, Y/N became too anxious to look at the tests herself and left them sitting on a paper towel beside the bathroom sink. 
It felt like an eternity passed before she heard Jay's key in the lock and the door opening. She stands up and moves around the coffee table to meet him halfway.  
"Hey, can we talk?" she asks him, her voice wavering with nerves. 
"Yeah. What's up?" he asks, the bright smile on his handsome face fading as he takes in her nervous appearance and voice.  
Biting the inside of her cheek, her head is flooded with 100 different ways she can bring up the pregnancy tests in the bathroom. She starts rubbing her hands together, to give them something to do and to stop herself from pacing a hole in the floor. She's never felt so anxious about telling someone something before.  
"Talk to me," he gently tells her when she remains quiet, too far inside her own head. Jay looks at her worried and takes her hands into his. He strokes the back of her hands with his thumb, calming her slightly. "What's going on? Did something happen tonight? Are you feeling sick again? Did your headache come back? Are you-" he begins to ramble only to be cut off by her finding her voice again. 
"I love you so much, Jay. I really do. You're my best friend, the love of my life and," Y/N starts, her voice thick with nerves. "You're my voice of reason but right now I need you to shut up." 
"What's going on?" he asks, letting her words roll off him. "You've been acting weird since last night." 
Her mind blanks as she tries to find the words to tell him that on top of becoming a husband in a month's time, that he almost might possibly be a dad also and the tests to determine whether he will be a dad or not are currently on the bathroom counter waiting to be looked at.  
Getting an idea, she hurries into the bathroom, leaving Jay standing there confused by her actions. He doesn't recall a time that he's seen her like this, ever, and to say he isn't concerned would be the biggest understatement of the century. 
She comes back holding the test in her hands and tells him, "I can't bring myself to look at them." 
The look on his face turns from one of concern to a look of surprise. "It would explain a lot."  
She nods agreeing with him as she sits on their couch. He moves to sit next to her. "If the tests are positive, the only thing that's going to change is that we're going to be parents." 
"And if they're not?"  
"Then we can try when we've settled into married life." 
"I love you," she says looking at him, still avoiding looking at the tests.  
"I love you too," he smiles, kissing her softly. He takes one of the pregnancy tests from her, "Ready?" 
She nods again. They both look at the tests in their hands, both having the two small pink lines come up.  
"Looks like we're getting married and having a baby," Jay says looking at the test in her hands, seeing that one is also positive.  
Y/N looks at him, seeing a small smile on his face. "Are you okay with that?"  
"When I proposed, I said I wanted to do it all with you and that included starting a family. It's just happening a little sooner than we expected. So, I'm more than okay with that." 
"How did I get so lucky?" she smiles lovingly at him.  
"I ask myself that every day," he says kissing her again, his hand moving to her belly. "You're going to make an amazing mom." 
She covers his hand with hers, her smile growing, "And you're going to be an incredible dad." 
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TAGGED: @mrspeacem1nusone - @halsteadbrasil - @allisonargent144 - @cs-please - @alexxavicry - @nicole-19s-world
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danafeelingsick · 5 months
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Novemetober 2023
@monthofsick
Prompt list | Masterlist | AO3 collection
Day 5: Undesirable character
Word count: 1,1k~
CONTENT WARNINGS: descriptions of vomiting, of food, nausea, burping, stubborn sickie
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A/N: not too happy with this :( for the record: i didn't like lyney at first, but now i regret skipping him, he's cool and he's highly whumpable. and another thing, i think it's silly the traveler was so cold to him during the trial, but i did like how they grew to trust him and his siblings. and thought it would be cute to write something like this. might've turned out more overindulgent than the angsty comfort fic i had in mind. i might do something more detailed with it in the future!
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         A shuddering sigh escaped Aether's lips, breaking the silence hanging awkwardly around him and his flying companion, who just shot him an anxious glance. Trying to distract himself from the growing boredom, he traced the outline of the playing card in his pocket, with his finger. Lyney was late.
         In the last days they had met inside the fortress of Meropide, that would be a first for him, and while it would be fair to allow him a grace period, several minutes had already passed. What Aether was feeling was a mix of annoyance and a bit of apprehension. He was lending his help in the magician's investigation, and was still being left out like this. And then there was the matter of...
         “Ourrp—”, Aether burped discreetly into his fist, tasting his lunch in the root of his tongue. “...yuck”, he muttered under his breath while massaging his chest gently with his fingertips, trying to chase away the heartburn.
         “Ugh, don't remind Paimon”, the small fairy groaned, hugging her middle as she floated aimlessly by the traveler's side, like a deflated balloon. “Paimon doesn't wanna think about the horrible lunch we had!”
         “I didn't even say anything, you did”, Aether responded, his voice coming from the bottom of his throat. Now he was thinking about it, and his belly wasn't too happy to be reminded. “I don't know why you're being so dramatic. I was the one who had to eat both of our bad dishes...”
         “That's exactly why!”, Paimon stomped in mid-air. “We both had bad luck, you ate your seafood soup AND my onion soup! Now Paimon's hungry...”
         Aether let out a nauseated groan, loud enough to silence her, he had started to sweat cold. The memory of the suspicious-looking dishes he had forced down came flooding back, fish stench and greasy cheese churning restlessly inside his belly.
         “Stop— ugh, we'll get some food for you after this, okay?”, he hurriedly said, through his teeth. ”Just don't talk about it anymore.”
         “Really? Oh, you're too nice, traveler, hehe”, Paimon cheered, flying around him, which she only realized was a bad idea as she saw Aether wince with nausea. ”Ah, sorry! Now, if only Lyney would show up —”
         Paimon stopped talking as she picked up on footsteps on the metal sheet flooring, turning to their direction. Aether only heard them when they closed in, raising his gaze to find the pair of twins standing there, Lyney already smiling apologetically at him, and Lynette, with an unamused expression.
         “Oh, hi two! Some slackers you are, keeping us waiting”, Paimon greeted, briefly cordial as she already jumped to accusations.
         ”My sincerest apologies, friends. We had some trouble getting to our meeting spot, but we're here right now”, Lyney said, with a small bow.
         Lynette simply shrugged, muttering an apology, which Aether took as an opportunity to change his posture, and strategically cross his arms over his belly. While it wasn't the most comfortable position, it was his best shot at hiding the noticeable size of his abdomen. His exposed midriff was nearly pink, the skin stretched over his upset stomach, making his discomfort quite obvious.
         “So, what's the plan?” Paimon ushered them, knowing they didn't have much time to talk.
         Aether's face scrunched up as soon as Lyney started talking, leaving his companion to lead the whole conversation. The idea of working with a fatui didn't sit right with him, especially one that had lied and deceived him, but at that point it couldn't be helped.
         The traveler briefly closed his eyes, his stomach was churning viscously, leaving him disoriented. It was already hard to tell which way was up when all he could see was metal and rust inside that underwater fortress, but now it seemed nearly impossible. The ever present musk of sea salt and humidity was making the nausea even worse.
         “Did you get all that?”, he felt Paimon nudge him, bringing him back to the conversation.
         Aether grunted, shifting his weight. “Y-Yeah.”
         Though he tried to act like he had been paying the least bit of attention, Lyney gave him a curious look, his green eyes pinning him in place. A second of silence hanged in the air he spoke up:
         “You seem a bit pale, friend. Is everything alright?”, the magician asked, and at first, Aether took his tone as mocking, seemingly shrinking in place.
         “Let's just finish this so I can go back to my — OoUrP!”, he started before a rather loud belch cut him off, his hand flying up to his mouth as a small splash of bile came up with it.
         If at that right moment a portal to the abyss opened in front of Aether, he wouldn’t hesitate to jump into it. His face immediately flushed a bright red as he felt the twins’ gaze closed in on him. He swallowed hard, trying to keep down the rush of hot acid pooling over his tongue. Lyney gave him a worried glance, stepping in his direction
         “Ah, I suppose we could… take a break? You really don’t look well”, Lyney offered, to which Aether, hand still pressed to his mouth, shook his head vehemently. “Are you sure…? You look like you might —”
         A noise akin to a wet muffled gurgle leaves Aether's mouth, unable to protest before he feels his abdomen squeeze, a thick mass of undigested food inching closer to his mouth. He turns on his heels, stumbling a few steps away before he vomits onto the floor.
         In between coughing wetly over the puddle of his regurgitated lunch, he hears Paimon shriek, and light steps coming his direction. Lyney appears in the corner of his vision, kneeling by his side. He doesn't hesitate before he reaches out, gathering Aether's hair in his hand.
         “You could’ve just told me you weren't feeling well”, he tells him in a playful tone, brushing a few strands before his ear. “Now, try to get it all out, okay?”
         Aether scowls, about to argue he doesn't want his help, but he doesn't get the chance. His stomach squeezes again and he leans forward with a harsh retch, bringing up another thick wave of cheesy clumpy vomit. It splatters wetly in front of him, missing his boots by little. Lyney seems disaffected by it, keeping a firm hand on his back.
         Aether groans miserably and spits into the puddle, trying to rid his mouth of the sickening taste. He is faintly aware of the stare crawling up his back, though Lyney’s presence somewhat distracts him from it. He rubs his back lightly, his demeanor gentle, almost brotherly, a small chuckle leaving his lips.
         “I think we’re done here. You should pay a visit to Sigewinne”, he suggests. “Do you want me to help you get there?”
         Aether nods, defeated.
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lvlystars · 10 months
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독 : fear — j.ww
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pairing. jeon wonwoo x f!reader
genre. royal au, angst
summary. "it's either the loss of one, or one thousand."
warnings. tw! major character death, swords (dueling)
a/n. this is my event fic for precious illusions!! following the prompt of illusions.
wc. 2.1k
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“father, mother. prince wonwoo and i have come to a conclusion,” you announce at the dinner table, making everyone go silent, the clattering of utensils dying out as the chatter dies down. the silence that ensues holds nothing but bated breath, the people seated at the table waiting for you to continue—to explain this supposed conclusion.
“well, y/n. tell us what you both have decided.” your father, the king, chuckles, a hint of mocking in his tone, making your stomach churn in disgust.
“prince wonwoo and i fight to the death. survivor rules both kingdoms.”
you see your mother’s eyes widen out of the corner of your eye, her breath hitching as she puts down her goblet, and the atmosphere of the room shifts, the tension thick enough to slice through with a butter knife.
“y/n, wh-”
“if you both do not favour this decision then the only option left is war.” you could feel your father’s burning gaze as you poked at your food, unable to really eat anything after feeling the bit of vomit rising in your throat as time ticks by.
"it’s either the loss of one, or one thousand.” you simply state, wiping your hands off and drinking the rest of the wine in your goblet before calling over a maid to take care of your dishes. “prince wonwoo has also passed the word to the king and queen of his kingdom. the decision is now in your hands.”
as you start to walk away from the dinner table, you hear your mom’s hushed voice and the quiet mumbles of those at the table, silently making your way out of the castle to get some fresh air, letting out a breath of air you weren’t aware that you were holding.
tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, wonwoo smiles sadly, his eyes filled with sorrow. you could feel the pain behind his tone as he speaks up, failing to hold back the tears that sprung to your eyes. “princess, i think we both know what the best decision is.” he mumbles, gently caressing your cheek as you sigh, hoping that this was only a dream.
“i don’t want to lose you, my love,” you whisper, tears now rolling down your cheeks. wonwoo brushes away the tear that had fallen as you bring up your hand to hold wonwoo’s, nuzzling your face into his palm as you gaze up at him.
a comfortable silence engulfs you both as the moon shines upon wonwoo’s face, emphasizing his features beautifully. your eyes trail down from his brown eyes that gave off the illusion of holding the galaxy within them, to the gold-rimmed glasses sitting delicately atop his nose. you glance at his lips, which looked oh-so-soft and pretty. you took in everything, everything that you could about him.
“me too,” he whispers back, slowly leaning in as you flutter your eyes closed–
the knocking on your door pulls you out of your cluttered thoughts, and you get up and fix your hair before letting out a quick ‘come in’.
the door opens to reveal your younger brother, who clearly looked like he was crying his eyes out prior to meeting you.
“what do you want, chan.” you mumble, lying back down and going back to mindlessly staring at your ceiling, ignoring the quiet sniffles of your brother. “what do i want? i want you to back out of that offer.” you groan before he continues, burying your face into your palms as your brother drones on.
“did you hear yourself, y/n? you sounded absolutely insane! why would you do such a thing, idiot?!” chan hisses, plopping himself right next to you on your bed, and you just envision the pout that would be plastered on his face if you spared the kid a glance.
“plus, i don’t want to lose either of you, unless you both are getting married and going off to live someplace else!” chan whines quietly, making you roll your eyes before standing up to just pace around the room.
"we both don’t have a choice, chan. if we don’t do this, both of our kingdoms are going to wage war against each other. we don’t want to see the places we grew up in result to such a state.” you explained, finally facing him, only to tear up as you looked into his distressed eyes.
without wasting a second, you immediately ran into your brother’s arms, hugging him tightly as you sobbed. sobbed to your heart’s content as you dreaded what was coming; dreaded the decision your parents would make, dreaded the bloodshed, dreaded the thought of facing the one you love and treasure with your entire being as your enemy.
the knock on your door pulled the two of you out of your looming thoughts, quickly wiping away your tears and smoothing out your clothes before faintly calling out to the person to walk in.
your breath hitched when both of your parents walked in, holding your breath as you waited for their response on the offer. you could see your mother’s bloodshot eyes, as if they were weeping quietly at the decision–
“you shall fight to the death with prince wonwoo. that is the finalized decision, and you shall receive the proper training needed to win this duel for our kingdom.” your father states before closing the door behind him, your mother following in pursuit.
no.
the cheering of those who chose to attend the duel could be heard outside, awaiting the two royals who were about to fight to the death. your heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat blocked out everything else around you, the panic slowly settling in as your sword was handed towards you. the sinking feeling of what was coming hitting you like a chariot.
your head snaps towards the wooden door that creaks open, revealing your brother who looked devastated. he clearly looked like he didn’t want to be here. the disturbing thoughts of his sister dueling the very man he cherished as both a best friend and a brother. you couldn’t possibly imagine the pain he’s going through.
“you ready?” he sighs, licking his lips as he clutches your shoulder, patting it in an attempt to reassure you. you shake your head, tears lining your waterline as you bite your lip. chan sucks in a breath, looking away as he holds his head up as if he was trying to keep his own tears at bay.
“well, you don’t have a choice now. everyone is waiting.” chan laughs humorlessly, looking down at you. giving you one last pat, he smiles tightly before leaving.
“and now, for the moment both kingdoms have been waiting for, the two fierce heirs of the kingdoms shall come out of their dens, wielding their weapons!” you hear someone announce, and you sigh out before walking forward, clutching your helmet in your left arm as you straighten your posture and push out your chest. the wooden doors in front of you creak open, revealing a massive dueling space, and the endless rows of villagers cheering and yelling as you both make your entrances.
you look ahead and your breath hitches, making eye contact with jeon wonwoo. he had a stoic expression plastered on his face, no ounce of suffering, regret, or even love within his eyes—masking whatever pain he was experiencing with the mask of grimness he wore.
“remembering that this is a fight to the death, you both may begin in 1…2…3!” the announcer yelled, and in that moment, it was as if everything was blocked out from your hearing. the cheers and yells stopped, the clanging of beer mugs against the wooden seats went silent, and the stomping of thousands of feet were muffled. you were only hyper fixated on one thing: jeon wonwoo, who was also planted where we was, not bothering to make his first move.
deciding to cut this battle short, you charge towards him, trying not to let any tears slip as you held your sword high, swinging down in an attempt to get him to fight back. just as your sword came down, wonwoo side-steps you, making you miss him by just an inch. you mentally thank whatever prompted him to move aside as you try to take a couple more swings at him, each one slightly missing him.
“TAKE A SWING AT HER!” you hear someone yell from the bleachers, the rest of the crowd agreeing and cheering as you look ahead at wonwoo. you can clearly see the hesitance in wonwoo’s actions as he contemplates for a few seconds whether he should, but in the end, you end up having to step back as wonwoo lunges towards you, his sword making an audible ‘swish’ noise as it misses you.
after a few missed swings and lunges, you hiss when you feel wonwoo’s blade nick your shoulder as you try to dodge his attack. shrugging it off, you run forward to swing at wonwoo from behind, who was looking up at the endless crowd of people cheering down at the duel, but he manages to move aside before your sword could pierce his body.
in a quick move, you gasp when you feel an excruciating pain spread throughout your body, looking down at your chest to see wonwoo’s sword impaling straight through the right side of your chest. you kneel as you try your hardest to even out your breathing, weakly turning around to make eye contact with wonwoo, who just looked devastated as he took in the moment; his eyes darting back and forth between his hand that was wielding the very sword that had stabbed you, and your eyes, that just looked so helpless.
deciding to just fight the pain and your consciousness, you get up again, heaving as you try to steady yourself. you run forward to take a hit at wonwoo, who was still lost in the moment, and you slash his chest, a deep wound now running across his abdomen, making him grunt as he catches himself before he falls.
i’m sorry.
with every jab and swing you take, you only feel more and more remorseful. the painfully true words filling up your thoughts as the duel goes on for about 10 minutes more. saying things like only one of you can live. there is no going back. you chose this option.
you felt tears running down your cheeks, your vision blurring from all the tears that filled up your eyes.
soon enough, you find wonwoo kneeling before you, the tip of your sword held between his hands as your eyes met his teary ones. you suck in a breath when you look down to see that your sword was pointed towards his chest, right where his heart was.
“y/n, sweetheart. this is our only choice. kill me, and lead both of our kingdoms. make them a better place. help them flourish and make a greater future for our people.” you shake your head in resistance as you bite your lip, the urge to just sob trying to take over. “i trust that our kingdoms will be in good hands. please, just kill me.” wonwoo pleads, the desperation in his voice evident as you sniff, tears now rolling down your face.
“i only wish to be killed by you, my love. you are my poison.” wonwoo whispers. you sob as you remember the times he has said that to you. that you were his 'poison'. you'd usually brush him off and laugh, but in this moment, all you wanted to do was let go of the sword and hug him. hug tightly as you sob into the crook of his neck as he soothes you, hushing you and comforting you that it's all okay and none of this is real.
you feel wonwoo pulling your sword towards him, cutting through the fabric he was wearing.
“please.” he whispers, and it takes everything within you to finally push against the sword, effectively piercing his chest.
you gasp awake, sitting up and immediately wiping away the tears that had fallen as you were sleeping, heaving as you take in your surroundings.
“y/n, are you okay?” you hear a female voice call out to you, and you feel an arm holding yours as you look around to find yourself at a picnic, surrounded by the younger versions of wonwoo, jeongyeon, and soonyoung sitting around you, all looking at you intently and full of worry.
fixating your gaze on wonwoo, you immediately go over to him and hug him tight, silently crying as he hesitantly hugs back.
“what did you even do to her, jeongyeon?” you hear soonyoung whisper.
“i don’t know! i just put her in a trance! i learned it from some sorceress that came to my palace about a week ago! she said that the trance apparently shows you either the future, or what you fear most.” jeongyeon hisses, hearing her crunch on a fruit from the basket of food you brought.
“the scary part of it is that you don’t know whether it will stay as an illusion, or if it will become reality.”
you just sit in wonwoo’s embrace the entire day, leaving wonwoo to silently ponder what had startled you so much to this state, and also deal with another underlying thought that concerned more his feelings towards you than you specifically.
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tags 🏷️ —
@star1117-archives @kyeomyun @bouncyyunho @jaehunnyy @leo-seonghwa @wqnwoos
networks 🔗 —
@preciousillusions-net @caratsland @cacaokpop-fics @k-labels
SVT WORKS
send an ask or drop a comment if you want to be added to my general taglist!
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ⓒ lvlystars
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silmawensgarden · 1 year
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Stages of acceptance
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Maedhros x reader
Prompt: Hi! I loved your young Maedhros request/fic and I was wondering if I could request Maedhros x reader and they are reunited in Valinor after the destruction of the Ring and Sauron (e.g. reader had remained in Middle Earth and only left with Elrond once the ring was destroyed)? Thank you!
Requested by anonymous
A/n: I know it's taken long for me to get this one out. Though I tried my best to imagine a good scenario for this one so I hope you enjoy it! → It has some hurt/angst in it but its hurt with comfort. I hope the end is sweet enough to make up for it. ❤
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: angst/hallucinations/mentions of death
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The time has finally come for you to return to valinor. Three ages have passed and the fourth was about to begin. The reign of the elves has waned into nothing. You are standing at the front of the boat, greeted by the salty air of the sea. This is the last ship to depart from the grey havens. You feel a mixture of joy, anticipation and fear. Your stomach churning uncomfortably from the feelings.
Your arrival in Valinor means that you must face someone you haven't seen since the earliest age. He's bound to be there, watching by the shore like a hawk for a sign of your existence. You don't know if you even want to face him after all these years. His death was like a poorly aimed arrow to the heart; a supposedly fatal blow, but instead turned into a curse you had to live with for the rest of your life. The nightmares made his death seem like it happened yesterday. The hollow look in his eyes as he fell into the flaming inferno remained fresh in your memories. The nightmares have subsided to some degree these days, but occassionaly you would still need the help of Elrond to be grounded into reality. Those days are the worst, in those moments dream and reality fuse together into horrible hallucinations that take days to recover from.
It took some convincing from Elrond to get you aboard the ship. Your hesitance was peculiar to them because you hardly ever divulged any information about your past. From the time you spent fighting in the first two ages of the world to a good while before your impromptu arrival in Imladris. They only know that you are one of the elves who left valinor in the first age. Not exactly an ideal amount of trust you gave them, but at the time it felt like the safest option.
What else could you have done? Tell them you'd been the ever faithful companion to a kinslayer? It would've been a far too harsh pill to swallow for a first meeting. Occasionally your story would fray at the edges, it made you wonder if any of them ever noticed the minor discrepancies between each recollection of the tales you told them.
Now that you thought about it, you haven't been truthful with him either. The one person you felt like running to and from at the same time. Especially now..... the thought of facing him was excruciating. You hadn't bothered to write to him, let alone use osanwe....the spiritual link between your fëar had remained all these years. Yet you refused to participate in the ages long tug-of-war your souls had been playing. Was it better this way?
You felt a firm hand on your shoulder, drawing you out of your spiralling thoughts. "Y/n, what is the matter? You have been completely mentally unavailable during our journey."
It was Elrond. A deep frown etched into his face. You felt a bit guilty about all the silent stewing but you weren't so sure if you should come clean right this instant or not. You were willing to take the bait in the end, after all you'd be spending quite some time together in Valinor. Even more so, Elrond was a trusted friend and companion to you, one you didn't want to lose.
"Elrond....I believe it is time for me to have a lengthy conversation with you. I have not been 100% truthful with you these past years."
You turn around to look at him and see an expression of surprise with thinly veiled concern on his face. Elrond nods and the both of you sit down a little further away from the other elves for privacy. "What is it that you wish to tell me y/n?" He asks.
"I have not told you the full truth of my identity. I believe you are aware of the Fëanorians? Specifically Maedhros...."
After a good hour of talking it had become clear that you had been involved with Maedhros quite closely. In return Elrond had shared with you his own interactions that he and his brother had with the eldest Fëanorians. Fond memories, but also the hardships that came with the turbulent times they had to live through. Elrond was not happy with you keeping the information to yourself all these years, it upset him that you never gave him any insight on your horrible hallucinations. Because now he also knew the reason behind them, had he known sooner he could've helped you earlier and easier.
However despite your silence he was not angry at you. Most of the upset had come from a place of wanting what was best for you, not because he had felt cross about your involvement with Maedhros. In the end you and Elrond remained good friends if not even better friends now that he knew who you were.
It wasn’t long before it was announced that the shores of Aman were in sight. The news made you freeze up. You knew that you would now have to face Maedhros face to face. So you braced yourself for the conversation ahead of you.
The moment you stepped onto dry land your soul felt like it was being squeezed tight by something, a tight grip that told you it wouldn’t let go. Within seconds after you felt this feeling you caught a sliver of fiery red hair in the back of the crowd.
Him.
Anxiety pooled into your stomach as you felt yourself being pushed forward by the people behind you. It seemed like every sound around you had become dull, save for your own heartbeat. The fast paced thumping in your ears was the only thing you could hear. You saw Elrond speaking to you for a brief moment, but your mind did not register what he said. You set out towards the last spot you had seen the tiny speck of red hair. Partially hoping for the confrontation.  
When you arrived at the spot there was no-one to greet you. He had apparently already left. The thumping had alleviated some but you were still processing your surroundings as if through a blanket of thick fog. Everything felt slow and dull. Your feet dragged you over towards a pathway that was all too familiar. You followed the road towards a familiar place mindlessly. Your feet stopped short by a riverbank. There he sat on a rock, his copper hair now long and swaying in the wind.
“So you have found it in you to return home, y/n.” He spoke slowly. It was deeper than you remembered and a little bit raspy, as if he had been screaming the night before. You stepped closer to him, now standing right behind him.
“Let me then simply state what is on my mind, why have you never bothered to send me letters y/n? You even refused to use osanwe with me, despite our status…….” He said solemnly. It was clear he was unhappy with your lack of communication.
“Maedhros….. I was so caught up with the destruction of the one ring and finding a way to defeat Sauron that I haven’t paid anything else any thought…..and I was also deeply wounded by your death. I was unable to respond to anything properly since. Including your bids for connection.” You fumbled over your words here and there during your explanation, partially knowing that it was a rather weak excuse that he may not accept. After all he was known to carry on until he could no more.
“Was it worth it?” His words stung like a papercut. You knew by the tone of his voice that it was meant to sound cold and removed, but his true feelings shone through underneath the façade. Saltiness. Maedhros the tall was feeling salty.  You pondered for a moment on what to do, you still loved him dearly and didn’t want to give him up. So you made up your mind.
“Maitimo….I am sorry for my lack of heartfelt response in those times when you reached out to me. I was unable to move past my own issues to reciprocate what you had given me all those years before and I am ashamed of it. I hope that you are perhaps still willing to give this another chance….I would be most grateful, if you’ll have me…” A lone tear slipped from your eye. You felt cross with yourself for your cowardice, maybe even your horrible dreams could’ve been eased if you had leaned into him back then. Unfortunately many things we only realize once we have been pushed onto the end of the road.
Maedhros’ form stiffened up at your confession, slowly turning around to face you. His face was stoic. Forcing yourself to make eye contact with him you saw the slightest flash of a deep heartfelt emotion in his eyes. You were now so close to each other that you could feel his breath on your face. In a moment of madness induced confidence you threw your arms around him into a bone crushing hug, refusing to let go. The lone tear now turned into full fledged waterworks. You felt your body being slowly pulled closer to him, a soft kiss was pressed to your cheek. In that moment your fëar had finally reconnected after two ages of separation.
A relieved smile graced Maedhros’ face as he whispers close to your ear; “Welcome home, melda…”.
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borrowedtimeandspace · 10 months
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The Box (Although Not the Suggestion One, as That Doesn't Exist)
29. Element
From this list of gt prompts
AU: Good Omens/Doctor Who crossover, based on this post by @mayomkun and a conversation with @neonthewrite.
Note: My first time writing a Good Omens fic! I couldn't resist once I saw the art linked above, not to mention the rare opportunity to write for a smol Doctor! Also... this got quite long, almost twice as long as my usual prompts. I had lots of fun with these dorks!
Spoilers for Good Omens season 2, but only for like the first 5 minutes.
~~~
The angel sighed glumly, kicking up a small whorl of stardust floating past.
It had been some time since the other angel who'd helped jumpstart this whole pet project had flown off, a bit flustered to get back to his own duties. Busy work, being a Principality, he supposed. That left the angel alone to stare, morose, at what had brought him so much joy not long ago.
All that time spent in the design process, all that effort sunk into putting on a magnificent show– and functional to boot, with all the stars the nebulas could churn out, given the time! All of that, just pfft in 6,000 years flat, once the Almighty got around to creating that "Earth".
Surely it must have been an oversight, thought the angel. He'd been working on this nebula right alongside some of the higher-ups who definitely would know about such a thing as Earth and the "people" meant to be the audience for all their hard work. And yet he'd heard nothing about it until that other angel- Aziraphale, was that his name? -brought it up right after the nebula came bursting into existence. Maybe the higher-ups simply assumed he knew about it, too? That could be why it was never mentioned.
Ah, well… soon enough, the angel would fly off to try and find someone he could talk to about this whole universal-shutdown business. He couldn't help feeling a bit wounded that so much went into things like this, all for it to be nothing but fluff and spectacle for one tiny little planet off in the corner. A corner that wasn't even fully manifested yet! For now, though, a part of him was reluctant to leave. It was still a beautiful sight, if he said so himself; watching the gasses and dust swirl, elements coming together only to expand in bursts of color and light. He reckoned someone ought to enjoy it before it all went up.
Then something made the angel's ear ring and his wing twitch uncomfortably. Some kind of odd sound that he had a hard time pinpointing below the muffled noise of the nebula coming to life all around. 
With a befuddled frown and a wave of his hand, the angel expanded his perception of the space around him. The nebula soared overhead, and the ever-shifting motion of the brand new stars and their infant planets, all of which also blew up to an immense scale compared to the angel now, slowed to a crawl and then nearly a standstill.
From down at this new scale, the sound was a bit clearer to hear, but no less baffling to the angel. His head moved on a swivel to try and spot the source of the stuttering wheeze that seemed to be circling about. While the noise wasn't exactly threatening, it was unusual and, quite frankly, a bit upsetting.
It came into view slowly. Rather literally, it seemed to struggle to manifest once the angel caught sight of it. Something blue and angular and about the size of his hand, fading in and out of sight in time with the struggling noise, finally coming into full solid form with a low sound that almost could be mistaken for a sigh of relief.
The angel's eyes were wide. That hadn't been in the blueprints.
With a flex of his wings, the angel flew closer to the strange object that had appeared. A curious finger hesitantly reached out to touch one of the sides of the box to find that it truly was material! Not just dust and gas, but something actually tangible!
He'd just begun to wonder what exactly this odd and mysterious blue thing was, reaching for it with both hands with the intention to turn it over and figure out just how it worked, when one side of the box suddenly swung inward. The angel's hands twitched back in shock. 
The box was alive??
Then, something even more shocking happened: out of the opening in the box leaned a tiny figure. A very similar shape to the ones angels took these days; pairs of arms and legs, one head, but no wings to be seen. And the tiny figure looked just as shocked to see the angel as he was to see it.
"Ah," it said after a moment. "Right, uh, hello! Sorry to barge in on you like this, but I've, ah, gotten myself slightly stuck, I think."
The angel caught himself staring agape at the little fellow. There wasn't supposed to be anything alive in this quadrant for a few million years, let alone sentient and capable of speech! The thought suddenly occurred as he remembered what Aziraphale had gone on about earlier: was this one of the "people" they were working on? He hadn't been hanging around that long, had he??
"Um," the angel managed to respond. "Not to be rude, but you wouldn't happen to be from Earth, would you?"
A flash of recognition crossed the absolutely teeny face of the figure- the person, rather- but he hesitated before answering. "Well, not quite that, but I was in the neighborhood. Must have gotten myself turned around somehow, and ended up in another…"
He trailed off as he leaned further out of the box, looking this way and that until his gaze landed on the looming nebula, and he stopped to behold it.
A warm bubble of excitement rose up in the angel's chest, cutting right through the confusion of the moment. All this time he'd been so worried about the people not being able to witness the wonders the universe had to offer far beyond that Earth place, and however this one got here, he wasn't about to waste a second!
"Yes, of course! Where are my manners?" The angel cleared his throat and maneuvered himself to float a short distance from the box to keep from blocking the view. He gestured grandly upwards with his arms and wings and said, "Allow me to introduce you to–!"
"The Horsehead Nebula," gasped the man.
The angel's head whipped around, the feathers in his wings ruffled agitatedly as he once again stared in shock.
The person in the box continued, "But it's just starting out! All those stars are only beginning to burn. Barely put the timer on the pressure cooker yet! Oh…! Look at you, you're gorgeous!"
A flurry of emotions flooded the angel as he listened to the little man praise his work (even using the same phrasing the angel had, making him quite proud of it all over again) but he did it in a way that was extremely odd. Like he expected it to be different. It did feel good to be recognized, but something didn't sit right.
"You've…seen it before?" asked the angel, floating cautiously closer once again.
"Oh, dozens of times!" the man exclaimed. "One of the classic star factories of the known universe, personal favorite of mine-,"
The angel interrupted, "Sorry, but I'm afraid that's impossible. I was here to kick all this off, as it were, and I haven't gone anywhere. And, meaning no offense, you are…surprisingly hard to miss in all this. If you'd been here 'dozens of times' already, I'd have noticed, and as far as I know, only the others who worked on it should even know what it looks like!"
Despite the angel getting worked up about it, he was more perplexed by this strange creature than he was upset with him. He sensed no falsehoods when he spoke, which only confused him more.
"Hang on, so, you…" the man blinked as he processed, glancing back and forth between the angel and the nebula. "When you say ‘worked on’, that sort of sounds like it was by design. Is… is that how this universe came about, and not by happenstance? You're telling me you built this??" Though his tone was incredulous, there was more awe in it than disbelief. 
“Well, I…” For someone so small, this mysterious man had a way with his words that completely disarmed the angel. With a flustered grin, he admitted, “It was a group effort, but I was the one lucky enough to start it all up.” To punctuate the point, he gave a revving gesture to mimic the way he’d cranked up the engine just before it all came about.
Agape, the man gazed back up at the nebula. “Wow. I mean that is just…smashing work, really! If I’d known it looked this magnificent brand-new, I’d have come to see it ages ago–,”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” the angel chided, shaking off the pride the little fellow kept stirring up, distracting him from figuring this oddity out. He did his best to emulate the authoritative tone of voice those upstairs took on, but he wasn’t sure how well it was coming across. Crossing his arms to try and look more serious, he insisted, “Now, I rather think you’ve got some explaining to do about just what you’re doing here, and why you claim to know so much about my nebula. I’ve half a mind to report you!”
Tiny little hands shot up in a soothing gesture. “Alright now, no need to get your…wings in a twist. I can explain, it’s just… well, it’s a bit complicated.”
The angel’s brow jumped expectantly, ready to listen.
“Right.” The man shoved his hands in his pockets with an awkward shrug. "Well, for starters, I’m a bit of a traveler. Travel through time and space, to be exact. That’s why I say I’ve seen this nebula before, even though it’s only just begun to exist. Seen it in the future, loads of times. Can’t resist, really, especially when I’ve got people aboard who don’t have the opportunity to get this far out from their own planets.”
“There are more of you in there?” blurted the angel, curiosity overriding the stern tone he’d tried to put on. Glancing up at the Horsehead, he said more softly, “And you… take them here just to see it?”
It was admittedly a lovely notion. Someone out there, in the future, bothered to trek across half the universe just to see the beauty of its workings. Warmed something in the angel’s chest to think that maybe all this work wasn’t for nothing.
“Well… not at the moment, no,” the man confessed, glancing back into the dark inner space of the box. “Just me right now…”
The angel’s wings drooped as he tried to imagine how that felt. Being a part of the Heavenly Host generally meant that one was never truly alone. They were all part of a group, and they knew they could rely on one another in times of need. Being all alone in a little box sounded quite…
“And you, erm… You’d said before that you were stuck?” the angel prompted, his voice much quieter in light of all this new information.
“Ah! Yes, I did!” the man burst out, as though remembering that he was, in fact, in a bit of a crisis. He shook off all the distractions and leaned back out to lock eyes with the angel. “I dunno if you can help me, but… Well, you see, this is actually not the universe I belong to. It’s a bit too much to explain, but the long and short of it is, I was semi-accidentally pushed past the limits of my own universe into this one. And well, you see, my box here, it runs on energy native to my universe, so I’m running on empty. Not even running, she’s just sort of… dead in the metaphorical water.” 
He ran a tender hand along the blue threshold for a moment before returning his attention outward and upward. “This did happen once before, and I managed to get it fixed by recharging it with some of my own life energy, but now I’m thinking that maybe- Well, I’m wondering if, since you were able to create all this out here, then you could perhaps give me a bit of a jump start!”
"Oh! Erm, I can surely try," said the angel, doing his best to sound confident. "Should be simple, really, with a nebula under the ol' belt!"
The angel's arms uncrossed and he once again reached both hands out with the intent to take hold of the little blue box.
"Oi!" exclaimed the man, jumping back from the doors. The angel paused, sheepish when he realized that, being so small, the poor fellow must not have seen him coming and got startled. It would be quite a sight, he supposed, a great big pair of hands coming at him all at once.
"Ah! Forgive me. See, there aren't meant to be people quite yet, so I don't really know how to…" the angel trailed off with a bashful chuckle, then waved the thought off. He gave a gentle beat of his wings to back off ever so slightly so the little bloke could see more of him and hopefully not be afraid. Cupping his hands before him in the manner he intended to hold the box, he asked, "May I?"
The little man stood straight again, and gave a rather pointed adjustment to his clothes. "Gently as you can, if you must," he insisted.
"I'll be very careful," promised the angel with a nod. Then, much slower this time, he reached out and brought his palms up to meet the very bottom of the box, fingers curling up behind to very gently stabilize it.
As soon as the angel made prolonged contact, the gravity of the situation with the box became clear. The little man had tried to explain it, but now the angel could feel it. His eyes closed as he opened himself up to fully understanding.
"Oh, dear…" he breathed, briefly overwhelmed by the cold, empty feeling the box gave him. No ordinary box, it would seem, with its deceptively vast interior compared to the exterior. Another universe, indeed. The angel could also sense that it should contain its own spark of life, but as the man has said, it was completely devoid of it. An incredibly well-loved box, but assuredly in dire straits.  "You are unwell, poor thing."
Blinking his eyes open, he found the man just within the threshold, watching with uncertainty and a little bit of awe. The angel gave a resolute nod and decided, "You're most definitely in need of a miracle." 
With that, the angel shifted his grip to hold the box in one hand, the little man clinging to the box's opening to keep upright. Such a small, gentle movement for the angel impacted the man much more. He focused on the task at hand, taking a deep breath to concentrate his energy in the very heart of the box deep within it. Once he felt it, his free hand lifted and there was only one thing to do.
"Let there be light," he whispered, drawing his hand down to call upon the powers of Heaven.
The change was immediate. On the angel's command, the interior of the box flickered to life. The man whirled around to watch a blue-green energy fill what looked like a column in the center of a round room much bigger than the limits of the box the angel held in his hand. That room also lit up with tiny motes of yellow all around, and the little man gave an elated whoop at the sight.
"You did it!" exclaimed the man, turning the biggest grin such a small person could make to the angel. "This should be just enough to get home!"
"Oh, it's no trouble really, I–,"
The angel's bashful words were cut off by a slam as the opening to the box shut all of a sudden. He barely had time to blink and wonder about how abrupt that had been when it opened halfway and the man's head poked out once again.
"Also, dunno if this needed to be said, but probably best not to tell anyone I was here, if you can," he said with some urgency. "Not my universe and all, not to mention the whole future business- best left unsaid, I think."
"Right. Quite right," the angel agreed. He hadn't a clue how he would even begin to explain all this if he were to follow through on his previous threat to report it. Doubtful that there was even paperwork for this scenario.
The man gave a nod. "Thanks much for the jump start!" he called as he disappeared into the box once more.
The angel was just wondering what he should do with his hands, if he should simply let the box float on its own to do its thing, when it yet again swung open.
"By the way, I love your hair!" the man grinned. "Great color to it; I'm a bit envious, really!"
"Oh! Erm, thanks!" said the angel, smiling brightly as he accepted the compliment. "I'm rather fond of yours as well, I like the shape of it."
With that, the man gave one final wave to the angel. "Cheers!"
When he vanished into the box this time, it was for good. The angel felt a pulse of energy run through his palm before too long, and the box once again began to wheeze. It was a laborious noise, but nowhere near as sickly as it had sounded before. Just as slowly as it had appeared, it began to vanish, and soon enough was no more.
Slightly stunned, the angel contemplated what had just happened.
It was an odd feeling he was left with. The concept of other universes started to sink in, making him wonder even more about the Almighty's plans for this one. Had They made backups in case the 6000-year shutdown didn't work out?
Beyond that, it did make the angel feel better hearing that, even if it wasn't in this universe, his hard work wouldn't go unnoticed. Someone was out there, in the distant future, bringing people around to see the wonders of the universe. All the more reason, thought the angel, to not just run it all for such a short time and then stop out of the blue! Why create it all without giving them the time to witness it, if that was truly its function after all?
The angel, remembering himself, diminished his perspective once again. As his celestial body expanded, the nebula once again kicked up to high gear, young stars flying about amongst the dust. He gave a pointed flare of his wings, bound and determined to bring this issue up with someone sooner rather than later.
A strong beat of the angel's wings shot him out into the dark matter in a flash of brilliant light, and he sped off to do just that.
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melodygatesauthor · 1 year
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Weekly Update - 07/09/2023
There's a LOT to cover this week but it's all REALLY important so please read <3 (below the cut) ~
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Announcements
~ Cruise ~
I'm going on a cruise from 07/15/2023-07/23/2023! I really shouldn't have, but my family peer pressured me into it and now I can't get my money back if I back out so I'm going anyway lol.
I paid extra to have WiFi in my cabin, however I don't know how good it will be. I refuse to pay the ridiculous amount of money to use the data on my phone out there. That being said, my online time will be limited.
If for any reason I cannot access my internet or have issues getting on Tumblr @whatthefishh will give you all an update letting you know. (She hasn't confirmed this with me yet but I assume she will lol)
I'm going to be trying to get some works written ahead of time and scheduled to post while I'm away so it will be like I never left! (except I won't be able to respond much).
~ Masterlist ~
My masterlist is ALMOST complete. Once I'm done with it this time I will NOT be changing it again (unless my aesthetic changes but that will only be a cosmetic update). I'm happy with the way it's organized right now and I don't think it can get any better than it is personally lol. (I'm very proud of it please praise me)
~ FAQs ~
I'm working on an FAQs list to hopefully mitigate some of the repeat questions I get, or so I can just link them instead of having to respond to each individual question.
~ Thank You ~
The biggest thank you possible to those who sent in tips this week. I can't thank you enough. I added the tip thing without the expectation that people would actually use it so to have so many of you this week blew my mind. I love you, and I appreciate you more than you can know.
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Disclaimer - I never know which way the winds of inspiration will blow. Timeframes aren't a promise/guarantee, they're a goal.
Fic Updates Legend:
Blue - should be posted this week
Pink - In progress actively (working on but will not be posted this week)
Red - Backburner Fic (will work on later. See WIP list for status)
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Long/Chaptered Fics Updates
A Bit Dodgy - This fic is currently on hiatus. The plan is for it to return 07/31/2023. Things may change and if they do I'll let you all know! Thank you for bearing with me. More detailed explanation here.
Always Yours, Never Mine - Chapter 2 is coming right up! Just a couple scenes to add and it will be good to go. I'm thinking I'll be able to churn out one chapter a week but don't hold your breath please haha, things are getting really busy, but this fic is at the front of my mind right now for sure. - New chapter this week
The Fractured Moon - currently working on These Fractured Knights (TFM Bonus Chapters) 🫣😏 - Hoping to have the next chapter out this week. This has been moved to "longfics" since it will be at over 40k words upon completion. - New chapter this week
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Mini-series Updates
Feeling You Can't Fight - New chapter coming out this week.
Not a Doctor - Part 2 coming soon - not for a while though.
Worth the Risk - taking a small step back from this for now. It’s not at the top of my inspiration list so I’m moving it down the line temporarily. - will work on a later date
The Good Doctors - idea by @burnincrown - Dr. Marc Spector - It's going to be a long time in the works, and it will probably replace TFM when that one is done. In development - Work on it a different week
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Requests Updates
There are 4 ficlets left for my 1k follower celebration. Finally getting them done (I'm almost at 2k now lmao but won't be doing a celebration until a different milestone).
As a reminder, once these requests are finished, my requests will be closed for good. You can see the post explaining that here. Thank you again for the support and understanding!
Moon Boys X f!Reader by @simpforbritgents
Asking for something like Feeling Flustered where the moon boys are doing guided phone sex.
Marc Spector X f!Reader by @blueflowerhat
Marc shower sex based on AI prompt.
Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by @campingwiththecharmings
This is the prompt that hit me like a Nathan-shaped mac truck! -> “if you don’t like my teasing why are you moaning”
Nathan Bateman X f!Reader by Anon
Cam girl reader x Nathan - Nathan turns to a cam girl, he's been kinda stalking her. (Excited hehe)
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That's all for now guys! I love you all and thank you so much for all the support you continue to give no matter what. You're amazing <3
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pirateswhore · 11 months
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Have Another Go - 3A fic
posted on AO3 as well
summary - Killian seeks out and comforts Emma after hearing her parents' confessions in the cave. The two bond over their pasts.
prompts and feedback are always welcome. happy reading !
He felt a pit in his stomach coming out of the cave. He was forced to reveal his secret, to open his heart and lay it out in front of people who were, still at this point, loose acquaintances at best. Not to mention that Neal was back now and he could probably slice through the tension in the air between them with his hook.
Something else seemed to be troubling him as well - Lady Snow's secret. He could understand her reasoning, meeting your child when they're 28 and fully grown can't be easy and it was clear to Hook that the two missed out on a lot of moments together. But the way she phrased it made his gut churn.
"I want to have another go," really? This wasn't some sort of circus attraction paid for with dabloons, this was another child she was taking about. A replacement child. Her words knocked the air out of him, memories of his own past flooding back. If it hurt him this much, he can't imagine how upset it made Emma, she'd already been riled up from hearing about Neal.
He grimaced and looked around the camp - she was nowhere to be found. He excused himself, mumbled something about needing to fill his water canteen, and made his way down to the spring near their camp. He pushed aside the thick foliage and his eyes settled on a petite figure sitting near the water, knees brought up to her chest as she twirled a stick back and forth in the small pond.
"Mind some company, love?" he asked for permission before stepping forward.
"Don't wanna talk to anyone, Hook." she spat back, trying to make it sound angry and determined, but it did a poor job of masking the tremble in her voice.
"Good, because I came here to think too. We can think in silence together, no?"
She thought about it for a moment before scooting over to make room for him on the bank. He settled down a little way away from her, giving her space. Last thing he wanted was to push her too hard right now, when she was obviously upset and hurting. They sat together in blissful silence for a while, Emma continuing to twirl the stick in the water in front of her, Hook simply enjoying the sound of running water. Much to his surprise, she spoke first.
"You were an orphan." He couldn't make out if it was a statement or a question, but he confirmed nonetheless. "Did your parents die?" she turned her head to face him now, eyes red and nose puffy - she'd been crying.
"Sort of. My mother died when I was a wee lad. My father sold my brother and I into servitude a year later."
"Your father sold you?!" she dropped the stick as her eyes shot wide open. "What the fuck was wrong with him?"
He pained a smile spread across his face at his reaction. "He was wanted by the royal soldiers. Gambling debts or an unpaid tavern tap, I'm not quite sure. He hurried the three of us onto a trade ship and left us there. The captain said he traded us to him for a skiff."
"Your father sold you so he could safe his own ass," she repeated, almost as if to confirm she had heard him right.
"Aye. My brother and I spent some 10ish years on that ship, until it sank and we were the only 2 survivors. We were found by some naval officers and offered a position on their ship - this one paid for."
"And I thought being stuffed in a wardrobe was rough," she chuckled.
"Your parents did what they thought was best for you. Even when they hurt you, they were still looking out for you."
Her faint smile dropped completely at that. "Yeah, and now they're regretting it and having a second kid. Here on Neverland, they're starting a new family without me," she went back to absentmindedly twirling a different stick in the water, "and silly me thought I would've been enough for them. Or anyone, really."
"You're enough for me," he thought to himself. He wanted so desperately to pull her close and tell her it's going to be okay, that she'll never again have to be alone or feel abandoned or replaced or like she's not enough. Instead, he spoke quietly with his eyes still on the water in front.
"I'm sorry for what your mother said in the cave, Swan. I understand what she meant, but the way it phrased it, it was..." he moved closer to her, their sides now touching, "it was wrong."
"S'okay," she mumbled out. They sat like that in silence some more, he was surprised but glad that she made no move to get away from him.
"I met my father years after he had abandoned me." He spoke first this time. Her head turned to him, a quizzical look overtaking her features. He continued. "In a tavern, he had moved on as if nothing had happened. Met another woman, had a son with her too. Named him Liam." his jaw clenched at the last word.
"Liam... wasn't that your brother's name ?"
"Aye. My father had a replacement son. And I guess it was clear which of his boys he felt was worth replacing."
"Oh Killian..." She reached over and placed her hand over his on his thigh. He winced at the use of his real name, having not heard it said by another person in years. "I'm so, so sorry." She squeezed his hand and he looked at her.
"It's alright, love. It's been years, I'd come to terms with it years ago." Now he was the one who couldn't hide the tremble in his voice. "Even before he left, while mother was still alive and we were at our happiest, it was fairly apparent that he preferred Liam over me. He always was the better brother."
"That doesn't mean what he did was right."
They once again sank into silence, her hand still on his. When she spoke again, it was a hushed whisper.
"I guess I didn't even realise how right I was."
"Hm? What's that, Swan?" she craned her neck to look at him, green and blue locking together.
"When I was urging you to help us, I said that you and I understand each other. I didn't realise how true that was at the time, but the more time we spend together and the more I get to know you, the more I realise we're a lot alike."
He smiled at her and she smiled back.
"Aye, love. I guess you're right." Her head fell onto his shoulder and their eyes drifted over to the water in front of them.
"Hook?"
He hummed in response.
"After we find Henry and we're safely back in Storybrook, I won't fight you on your promise. To win my heart, I mean. If it still stands? Just... right now, he's my first priority, but after that?"
He pulled his hand away and wrapped that arm around her, pulling her just a smidge closer. "Of course it still stands. I never go back on a promise. And we will save your boy, I promise you that."
She hummed in response, linking their fingers together and whispered "Good". He could feel her smile against his shoulder so he squeezed her hand in return.
They returned to camp a little while later. Her parents gave them a look, Regina made a comment about them getting lost in the jungle and Neal attempted to jump into a conversation with Emma, although she shoved past him without a word, annoyed at his presence. She sat next to Regina by the fire so they could discuss some magic stuff. Hook sat down on a log, trying his best to avoid both Neal and David. He was not looking forward to a conversation with either, knowing damn well it would center around Emma and his intentions with her. Still, she glanced over at him a couple of times and smiled, careful not to linger long enough for others to notice.
There was still hope, a chance that she would accept his advances and maybe, just maybe, let him court her.
But for now, he seems to have calmed her mind a little - that was enough for him, her happiness and content. And perhaps he too could have "another go" at loving someone once they return safely to Storybrook.
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sequinsmile-x · 1 year
Text
Sweet Nothing - Chapter 4 - The Guy at the Bar
A series of one shots mini fics of our favourite idiots in love to celebrate my birthday, along with all the other July birthdays in the fandom <3
The master list can be found here!
-x-
Hi friends,
This is for my bestie @ssa-sparks, who deserves all the good things in the whole world, who sent the prompt "doesn't mean anything"
-x-
Words: 1.4k
Warnings: none!
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
He knows he has no right to feel like this. 
She’s his friend, his best friend, but just his friend nonetheless. He liked to imagine a time when they could be more, when their friendship would finally tip into the relationship he’d wanted for longer than he could admit even to himself. There were moments when he was sure Emily felt the same way too, when she’d stare at him a beat too long when they were together, a spark in her eyes that he only ever saw when she was looking at him or Jack, something he liked to think was love. 
When she came back from Paris she was different, a shell of the person she once was as she tried to force herself to fit back into a life she’d left behind. Aaron had tried to let her do it at first, content to sit back and watch her work everything out at her own pace, but his concern for her outweighed his usual patience for her fierce independence. He’d made her promise to come to him when she had bad days, and that had led them to where they were now. She spent most of her spare time with him and Jack, her smile turning back into what he’d remembered it to be.
What he’d spent countless nights imagining when she was dead to almost everyone but him. His thoughts of her, of the fact she was still alive, and the future he wanted them to have confined to the darkness of his room. His penance for taking her life away in order to save it. 
They were friends, but that doesn’t stop the jealousy gnawing at his belly as he stands and watches another man, a stranger, flirt with her across the bar they were in. Drinks were Penelope’s idea, as they always were, and Emily had convinced him to join them all, his inability to say no to her well known to everyone, her included. 
He clenches his teeth as the guy next to Emily, who had simply walked away to buy another round, says something and she laughs, her smile wide and bright. His stomach churns, and he’s not sure if it’s the jealousy, or anger at himself for not having the nerve to do exactly as this stranger was doing. 
“You could just ask her out yourself,” Dave says, appearing out of nowhere at his side, “It would save glaring at strangers across a bar.” 
Aaron looks at his friend, ensuring his famous glare was fixed on his face, “Shut up, Dave.”
Dave smirks at him and looks past him, spotting that Emily was walking back towards them, “I’m just saying,” he says, patting Aaron on the shoulder, “It would make all of our lives easier if the two of you stopped dancing around it.” 
He doesn’t have time to consider what that means before Emily is standing in front of him, handing him the beer she’d bought him. 
“Here you go,” she says, smiling at him as she sips her own beer.
“Thanks,” he replies, sounding gruffer than he intends, jealousy and annoyance lingering in his bloodstream. She briefly frowns, a quick thing flashing across her face, but she’s pulled aside by Penelope before anything can be said, another moment passing them by before either of them can stop it. 
He finishes his beer and heads home, unable to bear the thought that this might be all they ever have. 
___
He’s barely home for an hour when there’s a knock on his door. He’s already changed into his pyjamas, a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and he sighs as he stands up from the couch. Aaron is sure he should be surprised when he looks through the peephole to spot Emily on his doorstep, but he isn’t. He blows out a breath and pulls the door open, softy smiling as their eyes meet. 
“Hey.”
She smiles up at him, biting her lower lip as she looks him up and down, “Hey.” 
“You have a key.” He says, unsure why that’s the first thing that comes to mind. She chuckles lightly and shrugs her shoulders. 
“I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome,” she replies, “You were kind of…off before you left.” 
He knows it’s true, that he’d been short with her after he’d seen the flirting from across the bar. It was one of the reasons he left, because he knew she didn’t deserve it. He sighs and steps back to let her in.
“You’re always welcome here, Em,” he says, closing the door when she walks into his apartment, “You know that.” 
She nods, her lips pressed into a firm line as she crosses her arms over her chest, looking him up and down as she tries to read him. Breaking the long-standing rule they had not to profile each other. 
“Are you ok, Aaron?” 
He clears his throat before he swallows thickly, pushing the treacherous truth down, “I’m fine.” 
She chuckles and shakes her head at him, “No you aren’t,” she says, stepping towards him, ensuring she’s close enough that he can smell her, the comforting scent of her perfume infiltrating his senses, “I was trying to figure out what happened, because you were fine, and then I went to get us drinks and I came back and you weren’t-”
“Em-”
“And the only thing I can think of, is you spotting that guy talking to me, but that can’t be it, right?” She asks, cutting him off, “Because if you had an issue with that you would have told me. Because you’re my best friend.” 
He frowns as he takes in what she’s said. Emily always said exactly what she meant. She’d been taught by her mother when she was young how to reveal what she wanted to and what to keep back. It was as natural to her as breathing, and it was something he’d known about her for years. 
She wasn’t annoyed that he was jealous, she was annoyed he’d kept it from her instead of talking to her about it. 
“I…” he starts, clearing this throat again before he says something that he knows will change their relationship forever, “I know I have no right-”
She sighs, cutting him off again, “Aaron, it was just some guy I’ll never see again. It doesn’t mean anything.” 
He steps closer, removing any space between them, and he sees how her breath catches in her chest, “It means something to me.” 
“Aaron…”
It’s his turn to cut her off. He places his hand on her cheek as he leans in to kiss her, his lips gently against hers. There’s a moment when she doesn’t respond and he panics, but then she’s kissing him back, her hand over his on her cheek, holding him in place. The kiss is quick, soft, and nothing like he’d always imagined their first kiss would be. He’d always assumed their start would be born out of desperation, quick and close to violent as they finally gave in to something they’d both always wanted. 
He thinks he likes this more. Soft and slow. Something gentle they both deserved after everything they’d been through. 
“It means something to me,” he repeats, resting his forehead against hers. 
“Ok,” she says, placing her spare hand on the back of his head, her fingers trailing through his short hair, “We…we should talk about this.” 
He nods, his forehead gently knocking against hers, “We should,” he says, kissing her once more, tasting the beer she’d been drinking earlier on her lips, before he pulls away. They keep their hands linked as they walk to the couch. When they sit down she automatically leans into his side, as if they’d always sat curled around each other. 
They talk about what they’d both wanted for a long time, sharing things they’d never said to each other amongst kisses. Smiles exchanged as they both admit that they loved each other, something neither of them would ever dream of saying to anybody else so quickly. 
She squeezes his hand and he looks up at her, spotting an amused smile on her face, “What?” 
She chuckles, “I can’t believe Dave was right.” 
He frowns, her laughter only increasing at the look on his face, “What do you mean?”
“He sent me here after you,” she admits, resting her head on his shoulder, “He said you were jealous.” 
He wants to be angry at his interfering friend, but he can’t bring himself to be, not when he finally had everything he’d always wanted.
He thinks the same thing at his and Emily’s wedding just 18 months later, when Dave claims the event had only taken place because of him during his best man speech. 
-x-
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bellysoupset · 1 year
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Can i ask for a sick lucas and sick jonah where the boys have to take care of them at the same time but jonah finds a way to injure himself i guess . I know it all over the place but pls do it if possible thank you and absolutely love your work .ps:bonus points for lots of puke
delicious delicious prompt. rubbing my greasy hands all over this.
I call this fic: How Self Indulgent Can I Be?
-
Jonah was not feeling well. Somehow, for some reason, he had been roped into helping with a beneficent dinner. Why he was put on kitchen duty, he had no idea. Vince would've been a better pick, Leo would've been better, hell, bloody Atwo-
"Hi man" Luke interrupted his thoughts and Jonah grumbled. Well, there he was. Speaking of the devil.
Jonah lifted his head from the egg salad he was making and glared at Lucas, only to immediately frown. Whatever malaise Jonah was feeling - his head was swimming, his stomach churning and the onion smell was not helping, his eyes watering like crazy - was reflected on Luke's face.
For once he seemed to be completely drained.
"Are you alright?" he asked, because Jonah Banks was not an asshole, it didn't matter what Lucas said.
Luke winced, "yeah, lunch just isn't sitting right."
Jonah wrinkled his nose "and you think it's wise to come help with the food with a stomach flu?"
"It's not the flu" Luke groaned and rubbed his stomach, "I ate too much, too fast. Forgot I had to be here, so..."
"Smart" Jonah scoffed, but he couldn't blame Luke. He felt pretty much the same. His lunch was swirling around his belly.
"You're the one-" Luke interrupted himself with a burp that he didn't care to muffle or excuse himself for, "to speak. You're looking pasty."
"Thanks, go fuck yourself," Jonah grumbled and moved away from him, putting as much distance as the crowded kitchen allowed.
There had been a growing tension between the two of them ever since Jonah had quit the team. In one hand he understood he had let people down quitting mid season like that, and he knew Lucas in special was unhealthily attached to team, but in the other hand... It was his health he should be prioritizing and his career. End of story.
Lucas was just being an asshole late-
Jonah's hand dizzily missed the onion he was supposed to be chopping and suddenly blind pain went up his arm, causing him to shout and scramble back.
He left a trail of red as he moved and suddenly there were people on him, the other kitchen staff, promptly wrapping his hand in a dishcloth and shoving him away from the food and the utensils, seeing as he was currently a health hazard.
Jonah fought the wave of dizziness. He was normally pretty good dealing with blood - he was a doctor after all - but he had already been feeling queasy and seeing all that red was just making it worse.
There was a hand grabbing his bicep and then tugging him out of the kitchen, through the main dining hall. Jonah wasn't sure where Lucas was manhandling him to, but he was just following, his mouth suddenly feeling bitter and wet.
"Jon...?" Leo looked up from where he had been helping with the decoration, "Jonah? Luke, what the fuck- Oh shit, is that blood?!"
Leo's increasingly distressed voice as he rushed to them caught the attention of Vince, who rushed to them in time to catch Jonah stumbling forward.
"Heeey," Vince's voice dragged out, humorously, and not for the first time Jonah thought he should've been the doctor out of the two of them, "you're alright, it's just a little blood-"
"I feel sick," Jonah groaned, while Leo managed to successfully remove Lucas' death grip from his boyfriend's arm and replace it with a gentle hand, "-Like-" Jonah burped and he felt too woozy to bother covering his mouth, "actually sick."
"Fuck," Leo mumbled, "Jon, is this vertigo acting up or-"
"No, I'm just... Get me out of here?"
"Hang on," Vince wrapped an arm around his back, resting a hand on his hip and hooking the fingers on his belt loops. And then he basically carried Jonah out of the building.
Once they all spilled outside, Jonah breathed in deeply through his nose, leaning his head back. It hit Vince's shoulder and he knew he should be embarrassed by how clingy he was being, how uncharacteristic of him, but he felt sick enough he didn't care.
"Cut my hand," he offered up as an explanation, meeting Leo's frantic stare.
"I can see that, babe," Leo smiled, moving closer, "can I peel back the dishcloth? We need to know if you need stitches."
"I- Yeah-" Jonah closed his eyes, turning his face away. He winced as the cloth was slowly unwrapped, tugging at the dried part, "Leo, be careful, I need that hand to do surgery-"
"Hey, Luke, you're looking a little pasty over there," Vince commented, voice loud since Jonah was currently lying on his side. Jonah dared to open his eyes to check.
Atwood was, indeed, looking beyond a little pasty. He was hanging awkwardly behind Leo and there was a smear of blood on his wrist, probably from the kitchen panic when Jon had been too out of it to realize who or what he was grabbing.
"I'm good," Lucas mumbled, stumbling back and sitting down on the garden curb. Jonah shook his head.
"He's sick," he said, before once again focusing on Leo, "so? What's the verdict, doctor?"
Leo opened a smile at the teasing, covering his hand once more, "I don't think it's that deep, but let's just stop by the ER in case, okay? Wendy's there today?" he glanced up, to Vince, who was now entirely focused on Lucas and his worsening condition.
"Yeah, she is..." He frowned, "Luke, we're going to the ER, do you want to tag along...?"
"We?" Jonah repeated, scoffing, "my hand injury is not a class field trip, Leo can walk me there. It's literally a block away."
Leo nodded, looking more amused than worried now, only for a retch to interrupt them all.
Lucas was still sitting on the garden curb, but he had spread his legs apart and his head was hanging limply. His back arched with a heave and then a puddle of horrible white appeared between his boots.
"Shit," Vince groaned, while Jonah promptly reached with his hands to cover his ears and then cursed loudly, since he had forgotten there was a slice across his palm.
"You're okay, I got you-" Leo moved forward to cover his ears, "close your eyes-"
But Leo wasn't actually muffling all that much sound, he was too gentle, and Jonah's stomach was already unsettled to begin with, even worse now that he was back feeling all unsteady on his feet since Vince had scrambled to dot on Lucas like the conjoined twins that they were.
"Leo, fuck-" Jonah squeezed his eyes shut tightly, as if he could block the sound too. No such luck, he could still hear perfectly as Lucas upchucked that gross thing that he could only describe as curdled yoghurt. He gagged at the thought and Leo cursed loud enough to drown out the sound.
"Jon, breathe, just- Just don't listen to Luke, listen to me-"
His stomach, hurting since lunch to begin with, revolted easily and Jonah haphazardly shoved his boyfriend back, but he did it with his dominant and wounded hand and the pain finally sealed the deal.
Vomit exploded out of his mouth, covering the tarmac between them and spraying on the front of Leo's t-shirt, much to Jonah's absolute dismay and disgust.
"Oh fuck, i'm so-" he cut himself with yet another gag, bending in half and puking again, noticing blood had started to run down his arm once more. The sensation was nauseating and unnerving.
"You're okay, you're alright-" Leo said, sounding a little queasy himself and steadying him by the shoulder, "breathe, babe- VIN? A little hand?"
"Sorry, I- Switch with me," Vince said, sounding just as frantic as Leo himself. Jonah dared to open his eyes and immediately regretted it. Lucas was still sitting down on the curb, arms crossed over his knees and forehead resting on them, a mop of chocolate hair shielding his face. The white disgusting vomit, in the other hand, was starkly visible and had stopped just pooling at his foot, but started to run down the curb towards the drain.
Jonah gagged again, bringing up another mouthful of puke, just as Leo let go of his shoulder and Vince took his place.
"Okay, we need to get you away from Luke-" Vince said, sounding more sure footed than Leo, whom Jonah could hear sweet talking Lucas on the background, "just-" Vince, with all the grace of a giant, quickly grabbed Jonah's shoulders and turned him around, facing the opposite side of the building.
"There, stop looking at that mess."
"I puked on Leo."
"Leo's fine," Vince rolled his eyes, glancing past Jonah's shoulder, "right, kid?"
"I AM OLDER THAN YOU!"
"See? He's fine," Vin smiled, "take a deep breath, you're alright."
"I'm... My stomach hurts, my hand hurts, my head-"
"I think you two idiots caught that flu that's going around," Vince sighed, pressing a cool hand on Jonah's forehead, "and you chopped your hand open."
"It's not chopped," Jonah groaned, leaning forward and bracing against the nausea that kept washing over him, rolling in his belly like waves, "I feel fucking awful."
"Figures," Vin thumped his back in a reassuring manner, fingers squeezing his nape, "okay get it all up now, not on my boots-"
Behind them Lucas retched once more, loudly, and Jonah groaned, shaking back and forth.
"Please get him to shut the fuck up," he groaned, squeezing his good hand against his stomach and bringing up another burp, "just get him to stop."
"It's not his fault," Vince glared at him sternly, "Leo, I'm gonna take Jonah to the hospital get his hand fixed, are you good with Luke?"
"I think so?!" Leo sounded so panicked and unsure that Jonah couldn't help but smile even through the queasiness that was threatening to send him puking again, "he's not really saying anything."
"Just keep him company, I'll get Jonah settled and I'll be back in a sec."
"You really should've been a doctor," Jonah mumbled, as Vince once again pulled him into that supportive hold and started to guide him towards the hospital building.
"Yeah, you and my mom both think that," Vince grinned, "but trust me, I'm not built for that."
"Uhm," Jonah paused the walk, straightening up and rubbing his stomach. It was pulsing with the waves of nausea. He hadn't eaten much for lunch but he was regretting anything he had ever eaten, plus the red he could clearly see staining his shirt was not helping, "Leo-"
"Is fine. It was nothing, he'll live," Vince pulled back, squinting to the building they could just see ahead of them, "c'mon, Jon, we're almost there."
They made it to the hospital without further accident and the minute they were inside, Jonah relaxed. He spent so long inside the these walls, they felt more like home than anything else.
"Heard Dr. Banks was downstairs crying over a booboo," Wendy's voice pulled him out of the contact high and Jonah rolled his eyes.
"I opened my hand and I think you gave me your stupid bug," he glared at her, causing Wendy's lips to tug up with a mischievous smile.
"Yeah, I'm sure I infected you, but not my literal boyfriend," she rolled her eyes, then blushed as Vince planted a kiss on her temple, not even bothering to interrupt their banter.
"Vince isn't human," Jonah shrugged, causing the other man to scoff.
"Thanks a lot, Jon," he wrinkled his nose, "I have to go get Lucas, he was also throwing up everywhere."
"And Leo."
"And Leo."
"Leo's also sick?" Wendy raised her eyebrows and Vince shook his head.
"No, he's fine-"
"For now, I did puke all over him," Jonah pointed out, leaning forward and swallowing the urge to be sick all over again as he was reminded he had just vomited all over his boyfriend's shirt.
"Just his shirt."
"He doesn't have an immune system."
"Yeah, well..." for a second the mask slipped and Vince looked just plain tired, but then his smile was back on, "he'll live. Let me go collect the kids."
"Father of the year award," Wendy mocked, tiptoeing to give him a peck, before Vince rushed out of the ER. Jonah raised a judgmental eyebrow and caused her face to turn tomato red.
"You two are disgusting."
"You're the one to say, vomity-boy," Wendy rolled her eyes, "okay, has anyone stitched up your hand yet?"
"No, but they cleaned it and bandaged it" Jonah grimaced as his stomach gurgled unhappily, "get me the bowl, Wen."
She obeyed without a sassy comment, handing it to him and gesturing for a nurse to step forward and hold it, all the while she started stitching up his hand. The area had long gone numb and stopped bleeding at least.
Jonah hung awkwardly over the bowl, taking deep steady breaths as he struggled to keep his stomach in check. He was starting to feel a horrible headache coming on, which he knew was the initial signs of dehydration.
"Can I-" he interrupted himself with a belch and spat in the bowl, ears burning with embarrassment, "can you hook me on a line?"
"Yeah, of course," Wendy's voice had dropped from her usual snarky tone, back to the concerned softness she used with her patients, "you're feeling that bad?"
"I'm dehydrating," Jonah groaned, leaning back on the chair and Wendy gently tapped his knuckles as she finished the last stitch.
"All done, I'm gonna get you an IV, alright? Hang in there."
"Thanks, Wen."
He let his eyes slip closed and it seemed like just a second had passed, but he knew for a fact had to be more, because next he opened them Wendy's face was next to his as she injected something in his IV, the needle already in his arm even though he had no recollection of her inserting it.
"Hey," she smiled, "I'm giving you an antiemetic, is gonna make you sleepy."
"No, don't-"
"You're okay, Leo's just down the hall. He'll be here with you in a second."
"Leo...?" Jonah blinked, trying to situate himself, "what's he doing here?"
"Taking care of you, duh," Wendy rolled her eyes, "he's coming here in a moment, they're just getting Lucas settled."
"They- Lucas is here?" Jonah raised his eyebrows, so surprised it snapped him out of the sleepy feeling, "he doesn't do hospitals."
"Yeah, so I learned," She scoffed, "Vince dragged him here, he's dehydrated. I think he was puking since morning."
"No he wasn't-" Jonah trailed off. The stupid idiot, "tell him I hope he dies."
"I'll let him know you wish him a speedy recovery," Wendy smirked, then looked to his left and pulled back, "I'll go check on him. Leo's here, get some sleep."
Jonah turned his head towards where she was looking and sure enough Leo was there. Looking like he had just wrestled with a bear and wearing what seemed to be Vince's shirt, but there nonetheless.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" he smiled brightly, occupying his rightful place right next to Jonah's comfy half lying back chair. Jon scoffed.
"Like hot garbage... You really shouldn't be here, you're going to catch this."
"I think we're way past that point, babe," Leo grinned, then reached in to stroke his face, "you missed out, Luke puked everywhere, all over Vince."
Jonah let out a chuckle, raising his eyebrows, "and I'd want to see that because?" he laughed, closing his eyes and letting his head lol, forehead hitting Leo's shoulder.
His boyfriend's shoulder hitched with a chuckle, "it was like The Exorcist."
"You're gonna make me sick, shut up," Jonah muffled a smile against his new shirt, "where did you get this?"
"Vince's backpack," Leo's voice tuned down to a whisper and he kept stroking Jon's cheek softly, toying with his curls, "how's the hand?"
"Can't feel it," Jonah yawned, "can't feel anything to be honest, Wendy just drugged me."
"Good," Leo planted a kiss to his brow, "get some rest."
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the-spooky-alien · 2 years
Text
Day 14 of Fictober !
Fandom : X-Files with the prompt "Yes. No. I don't know."
Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2022
-
Scully's words kept echoing in his mind as she left, her heels clicking harshly against the floor. Underneath it, he heard her quiet sniffle.
That was what forced him into action. He could count on one hand the times Scully cried, and most of them had been after traumatic experiences. He couldn't let this be one for her.
He couldn't watch her walk away from him feeling like he didn't need her. When in fact, he needed her more than air or food or the warmth of the sun.
''Do you really believe this ?'' he called, following her, unable to care about how loud his voice rang in the hallway.
Scully stopped, abruptly, but didn't turn towards him. He could almost distinguish the tension in her back despite her blazer. ''What, Mulder ?''
''That I don't need you ?'' Even if it wasn't coming from him, each words tasted like acid on his tongue. The prospect of thinking of her, of the woman he loved most, as dispensable was making his stomach churn. ''That you've always held me back ? That you aren't the one who keeps saving me again and again ? That you aren't the only person in this world I trust with my life ?'' Punctuating every question with a step in her direction, he ended up just behind her, close enough to feel her warmth. ''Do you truly believe you've always been a hindrance to me ?''
Her head snapped to his, her lips turned downwards as if she was trying to keep from bursting into tears. From the tears pooling into her eyes, he wasn't wrong.
(Oh, how he hated being right.)
''Yes,'' Scully spat, her eyes darting away, focusing on a point above his shoulder. ''No.'' She shook her head, frowning. ''I don't know, Mulder ! I've been assigned to debunk your work, I never believe in your theories, and the X-files aren't my quest, as you often like to remind me !''
He winced, recoiling from the venom seeping from her tone. ''Scully-''
''Why does it surprise you so much ?'' she asked, and her voice wobbled and her face wavered, and for a brief second, he thought she would lose her fight with her tears. ''For God's sake, Mulder, why- I don't understand-''
''Scully...''
He wished he could hold her against him until she could feel how his body melted for her, how pliant it became underneath her touch. How he would follow her everywhere in the whole damn world, even to fucking freezing Antartica, if it meant keeping her happy and safe.
''I just don't understand how you can't see it'', she whispered, the skin of her throat tightening around the lump he could discern in her voice. ''You don't need me to be with you, you just need someone. It doesn't-'' And then, her eyes flickered to his, allowing him to witness the raw fear swimming in her icy blue stare. ''It doesn't have to be me.''
He would have laughed at her if she wasn't so grave. He would have laughed and pointed out to her how clingy and needy he had been since they met. How he couldn't bear to have her away from him, so he had to call her every night. How he couldn't spend a day without seeing her smile and laugh and roll her eyes at his stupid jokes.
How fucking in love he was with her.
Instead, he smiled gently and, with one hand, cupped her soft cheek. Her eyes widened, but even she wouldn't be able to deny how she leaned into his hand. ''Of course it has to be you.'' His voice came out hoarse, weighed down by years of memories and feelings he tried so much to keep hidden deep within himself. ''Scully, it's always been you. From the first day we met.''
''Mulder...'' It came out choked and broken, like a plea for reassurance.
Without hesitation, he grabbed all of himself and laid everything bare in front of her intense gaze, allowing her to see what he was, thanks to her.
''I need you.'' And it was that simple really. He needed her, and he needed her to know it. ''I don't just need someone, it has to be you. You and your goddamn rationalism, and your obtuse science, and your fierce compassion and bravery.'' His other hand cupped her neck, tugging her closer until their chests brushed against each other's. Could she feel how hard his heart beat for her ? ''Hell, I wouldn't be standing here right now if it wasn't for you and all the times you saved me. Scully, you're everything to me.'' A tear rolled out, landing on his own skin, scorching. He wanted to kiss her. ''How could you ever think otherwise ?''
Scully closed her eyes, her chest expanding against his as she inhaled deeply, as if to steel herself against the corrosive love he threw her way.
''I...'' Her eyes opened, glinting, and her lips parted, and her hands wandered over his chest, landing on his shoulders, and he felt the muscles of her abdomen contract as she raised herself on her tip-toes, and she leaned towards him, the ghost of her breath hitting his own lips, warm, and- ''Ow !''
She jerked away from him, clasping a hand to her neck. His stomach burned with the weight of disappointment. It quickly spread to his entire body the moment she collapsed into his arms, muttering about pain in her chest.
And then, there wasn't time to think anymore.
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maivalkov · 11 months
Note
OK, but can we stop for a moment to appreciate the work you do with your fanfics?
I mean, this afternoon I was rereading some of your fics on AO3 and I landed on "Gatito". I looked at the date of the first publication and it's in 2018. whaaaaat?????!!!! i mean, it's incredible that a fic released 5 years ago is still alive and updated!!! i know there have been pauses, as is natural and necessary, but the amount of hours spent, the times you must have had to write, make drafts, rewrite, delete again until you've found what you were looking for, or at least an approximation. All this shows devotion and involvement and that's why I wanted to acknowledge the effort you have made and continue to make in updating and creating content despite how difficult it must be to reconcile it with work and personal problems. For this very reason, thank you.
The same applies to Zoute Drop. You started the story on 27 May 2021 and you're still updating! Girl, that's what you call perseverance :) And to all this, you have to add the special events like hetaweek or the special weeks to the ships, like Spuk, of whom you take the time to post fics.
Well, I've realised that I've come up with a long text hahahaha, it's not my intention to be heavy. I simply wanted to reflect on the time/effort/consistency that you dedicate to your works. (which are also incredible, the way you manage to capture the emotions of the characters and capture them in words so that those who read them can feel them; how you manage to maintain the tension at the end of each chapter and you manage to make my day happy every time you update a new chapter, and I'm convinced that this happens to all of us who read your creations ;)
Having said that, I hope you have a good night and the sweetest dreams 🤍 (and thank you again for every masterpiece that you upload)
I think praise really ought to be given to the attention and love you've poured into this ask, anon.
I have a lot of feelings about Gatito. It's witnessed my highs and lows, it's been a much-needed teacher in the ways of writing, and it's the reason I now call certain amazing writers 'friend'.
I'm incredibly grateful to that word child, and to those who've stuck with me all this time. I always wanted to see this fic through till the end, and I'm happy there are people willing to join me as we plod towards the finish line. :)
Zoute Drop feels considerably young in comparison, but now that you mention it, I guess it's getting on too, right? (Fear not. There's still plenty of time and chapters left in that one.)
I adore writing, as you've probably noticed. Events are a great outlet for the NedPort or EngSpa daydreams, or a whole new prompt I wouldn't normally consider. For anyone interested, on that note, I'll be taking part in @hetaberia-week very soon, and, for the first time ever... @hetaween-event later this year >:)
Thank you again for your kind words, I can't express how much it means. Despite reading the same fics time and again myself, I forget people might enjoy revisiting mine. It's a strange but wonderful feeling. If the stories I churn out provide something, whether that's a laugh or mild frustration as I leave you all on another cliffhanger (looking at you Gatito), then my work here is done. I'm glad you enjoy my fics, truly, and hope you have a wonderful day. 💖
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twinkleallnight · 2 years
Note
Hii 😍
I saw these pics for fall and thought of you. Maybe they’ll inspire a fic or an edit. Whatever your feel most comfortable with (no pressure 🥰)
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I know it's almost Christmas and I promised this one just "tomorrow" ( that was a week ago) but as suggested by few it's fall technically till 19 December and half of earth is still living in that date zone, here's this lovely ask , before it's too- too late.
Thank you @peonierose for these autumn pics that made me churn out a fluff with my OTP.
Previously the things that happened are mentioned in this fic I am thankful for... and Lilith's birth happened in the fic - the Nevrakis-Walker Christmas
It's Fall Y'all...
Book: TRR AU
Characters: Drake x Olivia and their daughter Lilith, Riley and her daughter Eleanor, Bianca. Mentioned: Liam, Maxwell.
Word count: 1,547
Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry except Lilith
Rating: teens
Warning: fluff
Prompt:
1. prompt day 19 , take me home, by @choicesdecemberchallenge2022
2. your OTP takes a holiday trip. Holiday prompts @choicesficwriterscreations
3. Prompt 84. “You said not to buy you any gifts, so I made you one instead.” @choicesflashfics holiday prompt
4. Prompt 3 by @choicesflashfics “Ok, this whole thing you’re doing? I’m gonna need you to stop."
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The azure of the sky was speckled with fluff of the white clouds. The winds were calm and often let out a soft breath in the form of a breeze. The trees seemed to be changing their dresses in a shade brighter than last month’s.
On such a pleasant day, Drake was rocking softly in a hammock, tied between the two trees that stood on the way to the barn. The usually quiet ranch home was bustling with activities, this time of the year. The Cordonian royal family was on their annual trip to Texas along with Drake’s family. A feeling of bliss ran through his veins as he looked at all of them.
His mother, Bianca sat nearby on a picnic table knitting a sweater. His wife, Olivia was busy taming the fiery red mane of their daughter, Lilith and his best friend’s wife Riley was entangled with her daughter’s golden curls.
He took a deep breath and focused back on reading Maxwell’s latest release.
A week ago...
{ “You are seriously going to spend time reading this?” Olivia had asked him when they had packed their bags in Lythikos.
“I am curious to read what he has written about our children. I let him be when he wrote a one-sided story about us but I won’t let him do that to my kido.”
“What will you do?” Olivia had raised an eyebrow, challenging him.
“ I… I…I will tell you. You can handle that Beaumont better than me.”
Olivia threw a pillow at him. “Such a marshmallow!”
Drake had just smiled. He knew, the presence of his daughter in his life had mellowed him down so much. }
Now…
He was half way through the story of the Royal heir and it felt a nice walk down the memory lane, as he read about the shenanigans of their little ones described in the book.
A sudden babbling around the picnic table caught his attention. He knew the girls were getting ready for the evening fire pit party, but this time it was his mother’s turn to dress up, it seemed.
Bianca was protesting, squeezed in between Lilith and Eleanor. Her hands were pinned down by both the girls who were engrossed in colouring the nails of her wrinkled hands.
“Girls, I seriously feel this is not a good idea.” Bianca said the umpteenth time.
“Shhh”, Lilith seated to her right, reacted.
Bianca shut her eyes, “This is going to be so awkward. “Ellie,” She coaxed Riley’s daughter seated to her left, “You are the wise one. Can you not reason?” Eleanor just giggled and concentrated back at the work in hand.
Bianca gave a pleading look to Olivia and Riley sitting in front of her but they shrugged and continued scrolling through their cell phones.
“Drake!” She called out to her last resort.
“Have fun, mom!” He replied.
“No use.” Bianca gave out a heavy sigh. She had not indulged in any such girlie acts for years. ‘Since Jackson’ she thought. And now she had to give in to the persistence of the young girls.
Riley and Olivia went to the kitchen to get some snacks. By the time they came back Bianca’s nails were painted bright.
Lilith squealed. “Grandma, isn’t it a beautiful piece of art?”
Before Bianca could respond, Eleanor sitting on the other side affirmed, “It surely is.”
Lilith lifted her arms in excitement, “You are getting ready for Ellie and Lily’s party tonight!”
“For which, we still have few things to arrange.” Reminded Eleanor.
“Oh yes, excuse us please.” Lilith got up. “We need to catch hold of Uncle Liam for our next plan.”
“He is almost done with his meeting. You can meet him upstairs.” Riley informed them.
Lilith pulled Eleanor along with her as they rushed to the house.
“Bye, Uncle Drake.” Eleanor waved.
“Bye Dad!” Lilith screamed.
“See you soon.” Drake waved at them and walked down to join the rest of the ladies at the picnic table, sitting next to his mother.
Bianca rolled her eyes and smiled at their retreating figures, “She never gets tired, does she?”
“And she loves to party.” Drake dismissed.
“Unlike you two.” Riley moved her finger between Drake and Olivia.
“I wonder where she got it from?” Bianca pondered.
“Oh, you don’t know? She was conceived in Maxwell’s library.” Riley snickered.
Olivia glared at Riley while Drake looked away in embarrassment.
“That’s a ridiculous reason. Bianca made light of it, “Anyways, I love how these girls bring all the brightness and joy to my otherwise quiet home. I am thankful to all of you for spending fall with me here, every year. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Her eyes welled up.
Drake reached out to hold her hand and comfort her.
Riley assured her, “Aww, believe me, I and Liam look forward to this time of the year. It’s a nice break from the Cordonian court and a much needed family time for us.”
Bianca dabbed her eyes with her free hand.
“Mom?” Drake sought her attention, still holding and observing her right hand. “Your hands are looking so pretty with this colour. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed.”
Amidst the tears, Bianca laughed and retrieved her hand from his to slap his shoulder.
“Let’s eat.” Olivia tried to distract them. She preferred giving a blind eye to the emotional moments.
The four of them settled down around the table to munch on some Nachos. As they were eating, they discussed their plans for the evening.
“Olivia, what’s on your menu ?” Riley asked.
“Chicken fried steak, Drake’s barbeque ribs, pecan pie…”
“I love the pie you make, Olivia” Bianca chimed in.
Drake and Olivia exchanged a knowing look, some old memories replaying in their eyes.
“When you make it everyday, you achieve that perfection.” Riley stated.
“Everyday? Why would Olivia make pie everyday?” Bianca gave them both a puzzled look while Olivia tried to elbow Riley.
But Riley seemed to be in an elated mood as she explained further. “The Thanksgiving, a year before their wedding, Olivia burnt down the whole kitchen, trying to cook for Drake.”
Bianca gasped and Olivia covered her face with her hand. Drake grimaced helplessly. ‘What’s wrong with you Riley?’ he thought. He knew Olivia won’t like the details spoken out. But what came next surprised him too.
“She decided to make pie every single day for the next 21 days.”
“Really?” Drake and Bianca asked in unison.
“But why?” Bianca questioned again.
Olivia understood that there was no backing off now. She sighed before revealing, “I read somewhere that if you repeat anything for 21 days, the habit gets well ingrained. I didn’t want to repeat my mistakes.
“Oh dear” Bianca sympathized.
Drake got up to sit besides her. He gave her a hug, “I am proud of you wifey. I wish you included me for those 21 days too. I can never get enough of your culinary skills.” He kissed her hair and gave Riley a stare.
“What was that for?” Riley asked innocently.
Drake retorted, “Ok, this whole thing you’re doing? I’m gonna need you to stop. Do you realize, you are acting a lot like Maxwell today?
Bianca commanded, “Stop nudging her, Drake. She is just sharing those childhood memories one has. They are always a bit funny for everyone to hear.”
“Yeah, and a tad embarrassing for the grown up child.” Drake fussed.
Olivia placed her hand on Drake’s thigh and he looked at her. It was her silent way of saying, ‘let it go.’ He smiled at her and leaned down to leave a peck on her cheek.
“Olivia,” Bianca grabbed their attention, “I have something for you.” She dug in her bag of yarn balls to pull out and place a pair of neatly knitted socks on the table. “You said not to buy you any gifts, so I made you one instead.”
Olivia kept looking at her dumbfounded.
“Mom, I hope you remember that Olivia is from Lythikos? More than her, your poor son needs all the wool to survive the Lythikan winters.” Drake made a puppy face.
Bianca waved off Drake with a smile and continued, “I had thought of giving it to you later, but this seems to be the right time. Give me your hands.”
Olivia stretched out her arms. Bianca placed the socks in her open palms and rested her hands over them.
“Olivia, you refined my son into a fine man. You gave me a beautiful granddaughter and you brought us all together. As a woman, I know what it takes to build up a cozy little family. Hope this pair of socks keeps you warm on those awful days when nothing seems to go right and reminds you that you will always be right.”
Olivia was definitely not prepared for this. She felt the moistness in her eyes and feared that it would spill over the brim. She just looked down at the socks in her hands and Bianca’s hands over them. “You know that nail colour looks really beautiful on you.”
Bianca swatted on her hands and they all laughed together.
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Tags: @3pawandme @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @bascmve01 @bebepac @busywoman @dcbbw @gkittylove99 @harleybeaumont @iaminlovewithtrr @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @neotericthemis @mom2000aggie @phoenixrising0308 @princess-geek @riseandshinelittleblossom @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @sillydg @tessa-liam @tinkie1973 @txemrn @walkerdrakewalker @yourmajesty09
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crinkled-emotions · 2 years
Note
Can I request number 5. and 8. from the prompt list for Roo please?
BTW saw you're writing for 911 and that you mentioned a crossover potentially. Just know I would definitely be here for that!!😍
I am considering it! I'm just trying to y'know, work the logistics lmaoooo. For example- who is Jake going to hit on this time?? All the options... Joking!
In other news- I wrote only 9-1-1 for like... I would say 18 months? Just under half of my fics on AO3 are for 9-1-1 😂 it's my comfort show alongside Outer Range hahahaha.
I've been in a bit of a slump with my writing lately but I put in my Airpods today and I realised it's because I'm easily distracted by background noise... and now three fics have been churned out in the last twenty minutes 😂
5. "Spoonful of honey" and 8. "Lap/chest pillow".
Get keen!! And Happy Holidays!
I did go a little Hangster here, just to try it out. It was fun! I’d be down to write more I think?
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-
Rooster was half-asleep in the breakfast queue, kind of hoping Hangman would load his plate for him considering he felt like he was going to go down like a sack of spuds. Splat, on the cheap linoleum floor that was never properly cleaned. Truly, he could get sicker from lying on that-
"Roo, you want eggs or are you eating air today?"
Bradley startled, glancing at Jake who sighed and reached for his plate.
"Tell me what you want, I'll get it for you. Go sit down."
Immediately Bradley felt like he was in trouble and tried to take his plate back but Jake was firm.
"Go, it's okay. Wake up a little more, think Javy and Tash already got coffee for us."
Bradley left the line, subtly slipping past everyone else and knowing Jake would get him exactly what he wanted. He might have been an asshole but he knew what Bradley would eat and what he wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Natasha and Javy were sitting at a table in the middle of the room and Bradley made his way over to them, frowning as he scratched at his nose. He felt like he had to sneeze, but it wasn't coming. Natasha smiled, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for him. Bradley groaned, burying his head in his arms on the table.
“I'm so tired,” he complained. He heard something drag across the table, and then a steaming cup of coffee was pressed into his hand.
“This should help,” Natasha said. Bradley lifted his head enough to thank her but she was already frowning.
“Are you sure you’re just tired?” She asked softly. He shrugged.
“Think so.”
“Hm, alright. Maybe take some Tylenol, you’re flushed like you’ve got a fever.”
“Alright, I come with breakfast and ketchup.”
Jake appeared from the queue, placing Bradley’s plate to the side as well as passing the bottle of ketchup over to Javy.
“Please don’t tell me you’re gonna put that on my eggs.”
“Okay, then I won’t tell you that,” Javy said with a grin at his best friend. Jake rolled his eyes, attention going back to Bradley when he didn’t immediately start eating.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Throat hurts, feel like I can’t swallow.”
Jake, Javy and Natasha all frowned with concern but subtly moved away ever so slightly.
-
The pain in his throat didn’t go away, despite the way Bradley tried to keep up with his water consumption. Natasha offered to make him tea but when he’d just grimaced she’d rolled her eyes and called him a macho man, but not in the good way- the way that told him he was being an asshole. When he’d tried to apologise for being difficult she was gone, swallowed by the crowd of people around them. That had left him, Jake and Javy, but Javy was called away to an individual assessment after lunch which just left Bradley and Jake. They’d never been best buddies skipping in a field whilst holding hands (that was a scary thought), but Bradley needed him right then and when they had a gap in their schedule he reached for Jake’s shoulder, giving him a gentle tug.
“Can you tell the CO I’m going to the infirmary? I feel like shit, pretty sure I’m gonna lose my voice.”
Jake frowned.
“Yeah, you got it. Text me if you need something.”
“Thanks...”
Bradley separated from him, heading against the grain of the rest of the hallway. Jake watched him until he too was swallowed into the crowd, then headed to class. He had shit to do if he was going to graduate at the top, as he should.
-
“Bradshaw, what can I do for you?”
“Uh, I don’t think I should be going in the air today. Sir.”
The doctor frowned, reaching the back of his palm up to feel Bradley’s forehead for a fever.
“Well, just by my guess I’d say you have a fever. How long have you been feeling sick?”
“I couldn’t sleep last night but I thought it was just...”
Bradley trailed off and the doctor cleared his throat.
“I read your file, if you’re having trouble sleeping due to nightma-”
“-I’m not. It’s fine.”
The doctor didn’t look entirely convinced but let it be, instead working his fingers down Bradley’s jaw to feel his glands.
“What did your callsign end up being? I heard whispers of Duck or Honk for a little while there.”
“Rooster, sir.”
The doctor smiled, pulling away to scribble some notes and grab a wooden tongue depressor.
“Alright, you know what I’m going to do with this.”
Bradley opened his mouth and waited while the doctor examined his tonsils, eyes darting awkwardly around the room. There was no easy way to get your mouth examined, he’d learned in his years in the Navy. He kind of wished Natasha was with him, he was used to her sitting in the waiting room nearby.
“It looks to me like you’ve got tonsillitis, Bradshaw,” the doctor mused when he was done.
“Tonsillitis? That means...”
“Grounded, kid, at least until the swelling in your throat goes down. I wouldn’t feel good letting you up there while you’re having trouble breathing through your nose. The best thing you could do right now is go back to bed and get some sleep while everyone’s out.”
“Is it contagious?” Bradley whispered.
“Not the tonsillitis itself, but I’d say you’ve had a very mild cold the last couple days. Have you been a little more lethargic than usual, not eating as much?”
“Yeah...”
“Let’s get you some antibiotics. Fair warning; they’re disgusting, but apparently everyone around here takes them with honey which I don’t have a problem with. Honey might soothe your throat a little too. Other than that, bed rest until your fever breaks and your throat doesn’t feel like it’s on fire.”
“Yes sir. Thank you.”
“Not a problem. Keep drinking lots of water, we want to flush out your system.”
The doctor scribbled on a prescription pad, then ripped the sheet off and passed it to Bradley.
“Give this to the pharmacist, then to bed. Clear?”
“Yes sir.”
-
The medicine was indeed vile, even with the honey. Part of Bradley wondered if he’d throw up just from the taste of the medicine, but when his stomach didn’t give any warning signs he tracked back to the room he shared with Jake and curled up in his bunk on the bottom, grimacing at the way his pillow was lumpy and his mattress like a brick. Jake’s was so much better- not that he’d, y’know, slept on Jake’s bunk. He wasn’t speaking from experience it just looked comfy. Mmhmm.
When he stirred again, it was dark outside despite the window’s blinds being open, and Jake was stripping out of his uniform.
“Hey,” he called over his shoulder, “how are you feeling?”
Bradley paused, considering the question for a moment.
“Not great, everything hurts,” he confessed. Jake frowned.
“Why are you in your bunk? You could have used mine, I don’t mind.”
“It didn’t feel right without you.”
Jake froze, looking at Bradley in the mirror.
“Roos...”
“I didn’t think I was allowed to, I’m on bed rest for at least the next couple days.”
“Alright, then scoot over.”
Bradley scooted back on his bunk to press his back against the wall and Jake climbed in with him, lying on his back and extending an arm out.
“C’mere, sweetheart. Yeah, there ya go. Is that better?” He whispered as Bradley settled on his chest, tense until he melted into Jake’s touch.
“Mmhmm. Thanks.”
“Yeah, yeah of course, Roo. I’m sorry you got sick.”
Not even Natasha called him Roo, or Roos. It was only ever Jake.
As Bradley drifted back to sleep, he felt lips pressed to his forehead and an arm come around to support his hips.
He wondered if they’d survive TOPGUN together.
-
It turned out the answer was no.
Five years later, at the Hard Deck, Rooster was reminded of why he’d left Jake- no, Hangman, all those years ago. Simultaneously, Hangman was reminded of why he’d left Bradley.
And it hurt.
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hailbop1701 · 2 years
Text
Not as it Seems
Prompt Drabbles #1
Hello everyone! I'm Hailey (For those of you who don't know me) and I'm pretty new to the Hawaii Five-0 Fandom. I'm wicked happy to be here and super stoked to write some fics! I have quite a few of them floating around my drive and I wanted to start getting them out there. I wanted to start small with some drabbles and work my way up from there. Get the characters right and such. I have a feeling I'm going to be picking on Danny a lot I felt drawn to his character and you all know how that goes.
Please note that I do not have a beta so there will be an odd mistake here and there and I apologize in advance for that!
The word prompt I was given for this Drabble was "Nightmares" and it turned into something very interesting which later inspired a couple of different supernatural Au's that I currently have in the works!
And I'm rambling. Enjoy the fic, I hope y'all like it! -H
words: 835
The basement was freezing and dark, the only light he could see was a flickering bulb hanging precariously from the ceiling. Swaying it cast shadows. Shadows that somehow danced and whispered to him. Laughed, wept, mocked, and growled. Danny forced back screams of his own in a poor attempt to be defiant against the demons in the dark. 
The air was tainted with copper, and something so sickly sweet that Danny had to swallow repeatedly in order to keep whatever was left in his stomach from making an epic return. The only thing left in this place was death and despair. There was no hope here for it had left long before he was even born. Cursed the locals said. A wound left to fester bitter against anything good in the world. 
The bulb flickered again, buzzing and clicking at him in warning. Danny shifted off the bottom step onto the dirty blood encrusted floor. His steps echoed like thunderclaps and voices whispering all around him hushed. As if they were a crowd quieting for a performance. Now it was much too quiet. 
The light fizzed and popped the closer he got to the center of the room. He was unwelcome there. More so than any one of the locals; he was a Haole after all. Danny’s breath caught in his throat as the light above him flared back to life. 
Settled in front of him was a barrel. 
Scrambling backward, Danny on pure reflex alone pulled his weapon from its holster. The laughter that came from the dark - churning like a vortex -  made him scowl. No matter how long it has been what happened to Mattie will forever cut him like a serrated blade. This wasn’t real. He was no longer in a basement, but his own mind. Danny watched as the small enclosed space grew exponentially. One by one a hanging bulb flickered on and beneath that light was another barrel. Names of the people he loved on the side of each and every single one of them. 
There were no ghosts here. Only parlor games. 
Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and listened. Really listened. The whispers now only tickled the back of his mind as they should. Warning him, not taunting. Thunder rumbled and rain poured down on the roof way above him. The sound of distant sirens eased some of his tension. Gripping his service weapon tightly Danny listened as another walked around him. Shifting in the dark, waiting. Breathing. Not dead like they had originally thought. 
Danny had to give it to them; whoever they were. It was pretty ingenious. Build off of a local legend and just let the stupid roll in. A never-ending feast. The air shifted around him again as the creature surged forward with only one thing in mind. Feed. Danny only had a split second to save himself. Bringing up his gun he spun around and fired. 
Looking down at the man Danny cocked his head to the side. He was sure Max would conclude after an autopsy that it was a vampire. A completely rabid one at that, it didn’t care who its next meal was or how he got it. Pressing his lips together he saw decomposing spots on the vampire's hands and face; shaking his head Danny moved on. Taking the stairs two at a time he pushed his way through the derelict house so he could meet his team. Multiple weapons were trained on him for only just a moment before Steve was on him. 
“Jesus Danny, what the hell? Are you okay?” 
Danny waved him off and shouted over to Duke to call Max and CSU. “Damn Vampires,” he grumbled to his partner and inclined his head slightly. “No offense Chin,” 
The Lieutenant smiled wryly at him. “No worries Brah, I know you love me.” 
Steve snorted and squeezed Danny’s shoulder, a sign saying ‘We’ll talk about it later,’ 
Kono grinned and the rain tapered off. She shook her head her brows furrowing in confusion,
 “Are you telling me that this was a vamp the entire time?” 
Danny shook the water from his hair and shrugged, “He had a flair for the dramatic. Rabid. I think he may have had help. Some heavy-duty witchcraft down there.” 
A tense silence fell over the team. “Damn,” it was all something they could agree on. The Vampiric disease was spreading and they had no clue how it came to be or how to stop it. All they knew was that it turned Vampires, who could be some of the sanest people left on the planet, certifiable. Psychopathic. Almost animalistic in their killing; drinking more than should be possible. They’re decaying, falling apart and the only thing that holds them together was blood. And a lot of it. The only sure thing they knew was that it was a curse. A very powerful one. 
Danny only hopes that they can find the source before the disease reaches too close to home. 
If you would like to be tagged in future Five-0 fic please let me know!
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x688plsloveme · 1 year
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Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones
This was to fulfill a couple prompts for whumptober, but some things happened in October and well... I just finished it. I’ll keep posting the rest of the fics/reacts that I did for whumptober as I finish them ^^
Theresea could count the number of regrets she has on one hand. Today, she'll add another.
Watching as Joshua Graham ruthlessly murders the White Legs makes her wish she sided with Daniel instead.
See, there's a difference between killing someone and murdering them. It's all about your heart posture. In war, killing happens all the time. Soldiers are ordered about like mindless drones and they have no choice but to obey. Even God's soldiers held no resentment for their victims.
Jesus once said that simply holding anger in your heart for somebody else was the same as murder in the Lord's eyes.
Now. Rese didn't know if Joshua's bible was the same as the one she was forced to read growing up, but even if that part wasn't, no one could say that what he was doing didn't constitute murder.
She could tell he was a hypocrite sure, but even she believed him for a split second when he said getting rid of the White Legs was seen as just a chore for him. Seeing him emotionless as he took life after life would've been preferable to this.
Based on what he told her, he should've even been remorseful with every kill, yet it was far from that. His words may have reflected such an emotion, but it was completely juxtaposed by the sheer joy he emitted with blood on his hands.
The glint in his eyes as he lands every shot. Blood spraying all around them. Rese barely has to lift a finger.
His focus as he shoves a woman's head underwater. He doesn't so much as twitch when the woman claws at him to try and regain her breath. Doesn't blink twice at her bloodshot eyes and sputtering mouth as he drags her head out just to shove it back in again. Every time she thinks he's going to stop, he does it again. And again. And again.
Rese tries her best to stay still, to stay uncaring, but it's getting to be too much. The woman barely has enough time to cry out to her gods before she gets shoved back under. Before Rese realizes it, she's wringing out her hands in a way she hasn't done since she was a child. She scowls and forces herself still once more.
Finally, she can't stand the sound of her crying anymore and yells, "Joshua!"
This snaps him out of his... trance or whatever that was. He stands up and puts a bullet in her skull.
He averts his eyes. "I was simply... trying to gather information."
Neither of them is stupid enough to pretend that he said a word the whole time or that he gave the woman more than a second to breathe, let alone speak.
Thankfully, Rese knew when to keep her mouth shut.
Of course, that wasn't the end of it. His eagerness is downright terrifying as he crushes a young teenager's skull against a rock, a sickening crunch is heard and when Rese opens her eyes, his boot is covered in blood and brain goo.
Her stomach churns at the sight and she's reminded of something he said before. Something about being happy and dashing little ones against the stone?
He looks at it distastefully, like his shoes getting brain matter on them was more of an inconvenience than anything. Rese, on the other hand, was trying not to audibly gag.
She regrets it the most when they get to the end and she has to be right next to him and witness his treatment of Salt Upon Wounds up close. Sure, the guy was one of the worst, but even he deserves a quick death. Joshua just keeps hitting him and hitting him and hitting him after every question. Like an afterthought. Like he was used to giving prisoners such brutality.
She frowns.
How could a man who wished to escape his past, act as if he never left it? It doesn't make sense. She winces at his final hit before letting her speak.
Salt Upon Wounds immediately starts begging for his life. He says Joshua is mad, brutal, evil. She agrees with every point and would have said so if the aforementioned man wasn't observing her so closely. She feels sorry for the poor bastard, but she's more fearful of Joshua than whatever bad karma this would grant her.
She wears a mask of indifference as she looks at Joshua and says, "Kill him."
He smiles. She couldn't see it under his bandages, but she could tell. Her mask almost slips with the amount of disgust she holds for him.
She looks at her nails as screams are heard and abruptly cut short.
Joshua walks up to her, pats her on the shoulder, and says, "Now let's get you out of here."
Rese commends herself for not shivering at his touch and smiles for the first time since this battle started, sweet and saccharine. "Yes please."
She couldn't wait to get away from this psycho.
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clumsyclifford · 3 years
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I came across a list of "ridiculous sentence starters" that I decided were actually too ridiculous to use as prompts but there was one that had malum potential: "so I may have accidentally adopted 5 kittens"
absolutely inspired as usual, meghna
read it here on ao3
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Michael’s text says NO BIG DEAL BUT CALL ME WHEN YOU CAN!!! X and the kiss is capitalized, so Calum decides it’s at least a little bit of a big deal and calls.
The first call goes to voicemail. Calum likes leaving annoying voicemails for Michael, so when the beep sounds, he says, “Mike, you absolute fucker, why should I call you if you’re just going to send me to voicemail? Do you love me or not? Am I going to have to break up with you? Is this the end? ‘Cause it feels like the end to me, Mike. Also, I’ll be home in about five—”
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Calum says, rolling his eyes and smiling. “You interrupted my cute voicemail I was leaving you.”
“Oh, cool,” Michael says, obviously having heard nothing of what Calum just said. “So, listen, you’re on your way home, right?”
“Yeah, I was saying I’m like five minutes away.”
“Brilliant,” Michael says. “Great. Um, well, before you get here there’s, uh, something that…has happened in the house. There’s a new addition that was not there before. That you should probably know about.”
“Did you buy another monitor? You don’t need more than two, Michael, honestly.”
“No, nope, not a monitor.” Michael mutters something that sounds like I wish and then he’s back on the line. “Look, don’t freak out, okay? There’s a perfectly decent explanation. I swear.”
It’s not that Calum doesn’t trust Michael, he does, but whenever the words “don’t freak out” come into play, there’s a small part of Calum that immediately begins freaking out.
“Okay?” he says hesitantly, slowing to a stop at a red light. “Well, you better tell me quick, because I’m about to turn into the neighborhood, so…”
“So,” Michael says, picking up the thread. He clears his throat. “So I may have accidentally adopted five kittens.”
At which point Calum really has to wonder how this became his life.
He blinks as the light turns green and makes the left into their neighborhood. “I’m really not sure which part of that sentence to start with. Accidentally?”
“Yes,” Michael says. A beat. “As in, I didn’t mean to but I did.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the definition of an accident,” Calum says dryly. “I’d love to know how you accidentally adopted five kittens.”
“Well, you know how I’m kind of really bad at saying no?”
“For fuck’s sake,” Calum says, turning right. “Okay. I’m gonna hang up, process this, and when I get home in two minutes you can explain it to me.”
“Sorry,” Michael says, which somehow does not feel like the right thing for him to be saying. It’s followed by, “Love you,” which is a lot better, and after Calum echoes the sentiment, the call ends.
A minute later, Calum parks the car in the driveway, grabs the groceries from the backseat, and locks the car. He bustles through the front door, calling out for Michael as he does.
“Hi,” Michael says, smiling nervously at Calum like he thinks Calum’s really going to be cross about the kittens thing.
Calum rolls his eyes. “I don’t care about the kittens, babe, I’d just really like an explanation.”
Michael sighs in relief. “Okay. Well. That’s good.”
“Also, can I, like…meet them?” Calum glances around; the living room looks roughly the same. “Where are they?”
Michael nods. “They’re in the guest room for now. I don’t know, it felt like the right place for them?”
Calum sets the bag of groceries down, even though he really needs to get dinner started — hence the trip to the store — and follows Michael to the guest room, which is suspiciously silent. 
“I think they’re asleep,” Michael tells him in a low voice, “so don’t be noisy.”
Inside, the kittens are all curled up in the corner of a big cage which Calum knows for a fact is a new purchase, considering they’ve never had any reason to own a cage. Two are white, one is grey, one is black, and one is black and white, and they’re all napping with various limbs tucked into or on top of or underneath each other. Calum has always considered himself a dog person, but at this sight his entire heart melts into liquid gold.
“Oh,” he whispers, slowly kneeling to get a better look. “Oh my God, they’re so cute. They’re so cute.”
“I know,” Michael whispers back. At the sound of speaking, one of the white kittens opens its eyes, casting a sleepy glance at Calum. It doesn’t seem terribly bothered to see him, because after a moment of Calum holding his breath it closes its eyes again and huffs quietly.
Calum is going to die. They’ll put cuteness overload on his cause of death and he’ll be mocked for years to come.
“We shouldn’t wake them,” Michael whispers, and Calum agrees. They back quietly away from the cage and exit the guest room. Michael shuts the door softly behind him.
“So we have five kittens in our custody,” Calum says. “Very adorable kittens, but kittens nonetheless.”
“Yes,” Michael says. 
Calum raises his eyebrows. “Care to explain how?”
“Yes,” Michael says again. He bites his lip. “No. Well. Long story short, I am very bad at saying no to things, and the woman at the pet shop was extremely convincing. And also said that I seem like I would be a great cat owner, which I would, Calum!”
“You will be,” Calum says. “You had better be, because you now own five cats.”
Michael grins. “I know! I know that’s fucking insane, but whatever! We’re adults. We can just have cats.”
“I don’t know anything about taking care of cats,” Calum warns him as he makes his way back to the kitchen. “I’ve only ever had dogs.”
“That’s okay, I’ve done lots of reading,” Michael says confidently. “Plus, we get to name them and I know you love to name things so I figured you could help.”
Calum shakes his head bemusedly. “Did you come up with all kinds of ways to sweet-talk me into letting you keep the cats? Why didn’t you think I’d just be okay with it?”
“Because I did it without consulting you first? Because we live together and I’ve just introduced five new living creatures to our environment?”
Calum sighs and pauses in the midst of putting away groceries. He turns to Michael. “Mikey, you’ve wanted a cat for, and this is a rough estimate here, about a hundred million years. This isn’t, like…how I expected it to go, but I’m not mad or anything.” After a moment, he adds, “I mean, you’re not wrong. It would have been better to talk about it first. And also to probably not end up with five rather than one. But.” He shrugs. “Whatever. They’re cats. They’re easy to love and easy to care for.”
Michael beams. The kitchen lights up with his smile. “This went so much better than I anticipated,” he says, grinning ear-to-ear. He throws his arms around Calum and presses a kiss to his cheek. “You’re gonna be a great cat dad. I know you say you’re a dog person but that’s just because you’ve never had a cat before.”
“I was never a dog person at the exclusion of cats,” Calum says in his defense. “What are we gonna name them? Do you have any ideas? How many girls and boys are there? Also could you cut these carrots?”
Michael obligingly does as he’s told. “They’re all boys. And.” He chews his lip. “I wanted to see if you had any ideas first.”
The face Michael’s making indicates that he very much has an idea, and Calum has only known about the kittens for like ten minutes, if that — hardly long enough to come up with any solid name ideas. He gestures. “Nah, I want to hear yours.”
“You sure?”
“It’s just an idea, it’s not set in stone. I want to know.”
“Okay, well, I thought we could name them after the One Direction boys.” Michael grins. “You know. ‘Cause there’s five of them, and…” 
Calum laughs harder than he expects to. “Oh my fucking God we are absolutely doing that, yes. That’s incredible. That alone makes it all worth it. Who’s who? Liam and Louis are the white ones, right?”
“That’s what I was thinking!” Michael says, also laughing. “Then I thought the black one would be Harry, the grey one would be Niall — because he was always on the fence, remember, like a grey area? And then Zayn would be black and white.”
“I love it,” Calum says, snickering as he puts the last of the groceries in the fridge. “I fucking love it. It’s fantastic. And so fitting.”
“Thank you,” Michael says. “I was pretty proud of the idea.”
“Well,” Calum declares, grabbing the knife dangerously out of Michael’s grasp and pressing himself against Michael’s side to stand at the cutting board, “we are officially cat fathers, Mike. How does it feel?”
“Feels good, honestly,” Michael says. “I’m really glad you’re not cross.”
Calum gives Michael a smile. He can’t imagine being cross about something like this, not when it’s obviously making Michael the happiest man alive. The joy is radiating off him in waves. Far be it from Calum to stifle that. 
“You get the eternal privilege of dealing with the litter box once we get one, though,” he informs Michael, who just nods solemnly, like this was a responsibility he’d expected to take on. Calum grins and kisses his cheek. “You’re going to make a fantastic cat dad, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” Michael says. “I’ll be the cool dad, and then you can be the dad who seems like he’s really strict but actually gives them treats when I’m not around.”
Calum just shakes his head, smiling fondly. He lets Michael chatter on about plans for where they’ll sleep and what kinds of toys to get them and which ones he suspects will be the most playful, and every second falls more in love with the idea of a lifetime of pets and shenanigans with Michael.
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