(violent coughing fit)

My headcanon of how the reylo cliff scene will play out.

Ahch-to, sixth months after the destruction of Starkiller base…

“You’ve been busy,” Rey shouts over the violent sea wind that swirls in the space between them. “Did you find what you’ve been looking for?”

“You know I have, Scavenger.” Kylo Ren ignites his lightsaber at his side and its unstable crackle seems to drown everything out. Rey doesn’t reach for her own lightsaber, which is still secured to her belt. She stands her ground, waiting for him to come at her. She appraises the jagged scar that bisects his face, feeling a quick burst of pride at finally seeing her handiwork.

“I’m here for your master,” even though he speaks quietly, his words swirl through her head across the distance between them.

“I have no master.” Rey juts her chin out defiantly, knowing he won’t expect this.

He arches a single eyebrow, his head almost imperceptibly twitches towards the temple at the top of the island as his hair whips around his face from a massive gust of wind. He knows they can both feel Luke’s force signature up there, tucked away. Hiding like the coward he is.

“How did you find us?” She shouts at him, fists clenched at her side, itching for a fight and waiting for him to make the first move.

‘You know how.’ His lips don’t move but his words fill her head nonetheless. Her jaw clenches tightly, teeth grinding together at the invasion of her mind. At this close proximity, it is impossible to keep him out. Just as it is impossible for him to keep her out of his own mind.

‘You call out for me every night. It is all I can hear, all I can feel. You consume my entire being, your longing drives me to the brink of insanity.’ His thoughts are again forcibly pushed into her mind. The invasion of his words is excruciatingly warm and soft as his presence ripples along the edge of her mind.

“Enough!” She yells, hand finally going to her lightsaber. She draws it and lights it in one swift arcing motion, the cool blue glow pooling around her. ‘You know it isn’t me that’s calling for you.’ She adds as an afterthought, almost not meaning to send the thought to him. Only when his expression darkens does she realize he heard it too.

“So you think it is our bond alone that calls to me?” He is talking out loud now, approaching her at a steady pace. His upsilon class shuttle left empty behind him, awaiting the return of its pilot. “You think it’s the bond that whispers my name feverishly in its sleep?” His lightsaber is still dangling in a lazy grip at his side.

They are closer now, only a few aching meters between them. Rey stands her ground, gripping her lightsaber in a fighting stance despite the fact that he has yet to raise his.

“The bond that is practically singing now that we are finally together again?” He almost sounds hopeful. The hard affection in his voice makes her stomach turn over. She thinks of Han tumbling from the walkway on Starkiller. She thinks of the last time she saw Finn, unconscious and kept alive by machines. She thinks of Poe slumped in a chair at Finn’s bedside, whimpering in his sleep, nightmares of having his mind torn to shreds keeping him from getting any rest.

“The bond that is just another in a long list of atrocities committed by you,” she hisses at him, palms sweating against the warm metal of her lightsaber. She adjusts her grip.

“Oh, my dear Scavenger,” his lips peel back from his teeth in a grim smile, he shakes his head as if he regrets it, “you are so, so mistaken. This bond is your doing.” He sounds so confident and sure that it causes her to hesitate. He feels the doubt sinking into her and latches on to it. “You’ve known all along, you just don’t want to admit it to yourself. You pushed back into my mind.” He reaches up with his free hand and taps his left temple. “You created this connection with your clumsy and amateur fumbling into my head.”

“Liar!” She regrets the word as soon as she shouts it at him, he can see her weakness now. Her anger.

Her accusation seems to encourage him even more, his grim smile transforming into a more genuine one, which is the scariest she has ever seen him look. He looks as if he is a predator sensing an opening, ready to pounce on its prey.

“This is why you need me to teach you, you are too powerful for your own good.”

“I have a teacher,” she responds sharply, trying to school the tone of her voice into something calmer and more even.

He raises an eyebrow at this.

“A teacher,” she clarifies, “not a master.” Luke’s words to her when she had first arrived on Ahch-to float through her mind and she knows that Kylo can hear it as well. ‘It’s time for the Jedi to end.’

“Whatever you call him,” Kylo shakes his head as if to forcibly remove the voice from his mind, “I am here to destroy him.”

“You will have to go through me,” she straightens her back, preparing for him to come at her with that red abomination of a blade. He narrows his eyes. He can’t understand why Luke isn’t here, why would he send his student out to face Kylo alone? Surely he knows that there is no way she could best him in a fight when he is at his full strength as he is now.

“No, I need you alive,” he responds in a tightly controlled voice, still not making a move with his ignited lightsaber. The saber spits and hisses like it is dying for its chance to maim and destroy.

“You need me alive or your master does?” Rey knows it probably isn’t wise to taunt him.

“I do. I need you alive,” Kylo brings his fist up to slam against his own chest, she isn’t sure if she is indicating himself or his heart when he hits his left side. “Snoke wants you dead.” The treason falls from his lips and he is quaking with the release of it. The traitorous thoughts that have been broiling inside of him all this time are finally voiced.

“Then why not kill me?” She is whispering, she knows he can hear her perfectly fine even though the wind eats up her words as they spill out of her mouth.

‘You know why.’ His expression softens.

White-hot anger burns through her, at first she thinks it is coming from his end of the bond, but then she realizes it is from within her. An untapped well of anger is overflowing and tearing through her entire body, threatening to engulf her. Anger at him. Anger at herself.

She makes the first move, charging towards him with her saber in a two handed grip. He barely has time to wipe the startled look from his face and bring his own saber up into a defensive position. Their blades crackle viciously as they come together and she pulls back again to hack at him. She has practiced lightsaber forms tirelessly since Starkiller, she can be graceful and precise. Right now, she is a violent and angry creature trying with single-minded determination to cut him down. In the back of his mind he acknowledges this is the most beautiful she has ever looked to him.

It is all he can do to block her attacks without going on the offensive. She is backing him towards a cliff that drops off into the tumultuous sea below. He thinks about reaching into her mind and stealing her consciousness as he has done before, but he can’t muster the concentration necessary as she rains strike after strike down on him at a relentless pace.

His heels scrabble against the edge of the cliff and he dodges her last blow, sidestepping her and hoping she catches herself before she tumbles over the edge. She doesn’t. He reaches out with the force to try and stop her fall but it is too late, she has already disappeared over the edge.

He leans over the cliff, stomach twisted into a knot. He knows she didn’t die on impact because he can feel her life force still connected to his. A dark figure is sinking beneath the waves below.

Without another thought, he drops his disengaged lightsaber in the grass and dives after her.

The water is ice cold and the current is unforgiving as he tries to locate her. He unclasps his cloak and kicks it away, the heavy fabric is dragging him down and only helping the water as it tugs him in every direction other than towards Rey. He sucks in one last breath and dives.

The silence beneath the waves is terrifying. He has grown so used to catching glimpses of Rey’s random thoughts and emotions since they forged their bond that the lack of her incessant inner monologue is deafening. He finally catches sight of her, she is slowly drifting downwards. His grandfather’s lightsaber is sinking like a rock beneath her almost as if it sacrificed the heavy weight it bore to allow her to hang suspended in the murky water.

Her hair has been jostled loose from the tight buns and is fanned around her. He calls out to her mind, not with words but instead with a sense of urgency and panic. There is no answering feeling from her end of their connection.

He kicks towards her and wraps an arm around her waist. Her body is limp and arches backwards as he drags her to the surface. His pulse is pounding in his ears so loudly that it feels like it is the heartbeat of the ocean itself.

When they finally breach the surface he smooths her tangled hair back and pats her face with his sopping leather gloved hand. He pulls her head up, cupping her cheek.

“Scavenger,” he murmurs, “Rey, wake up.” He lets his forehead fall onto hers, trying to delve into her mind. It is silent, so terrifyingly silent. He can’t take it. Even when she sleeps he can hear her, or at least get an impression of her feelings. The nothingness is all consuming and far too cold.

The waves are still swirling around them and tossing them like a wayward piece of flotsam but Kylo clings to her as if she is the one keeping them afloat.

After too many painful moments, she splutters and the violent coughing fit is the best sound he has ever heard. He grips her waist tighter and slides her up his chest, making sure she is above the water and can gulp down the precious air she has been lacking. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist and her grip is like iron on his shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” he soothes a hand down her lower back and she is still gasping desperately, a dead weight in his arms. Of course she wouldn’t know how to swim. It’s only by the grace of the force lending him strength that he is able to tread water for so long and hard enough to keep them both alive.

She looks down at him, startled, realizing finally where she is. She yanks back from him and he tightens his grip on her, not willing to let her fall back beneath the water. Not willing to admit how complete he feels holding her after so much time spent skimming along her mind, capturing the pathetic scraps of thought and emotion she would drop for him.

“I’ve got you,” he repeats in the same soothing voice, but this time it isn’t a reassurance for her and is instead a declaration of victory. She finally sags into his arms, the tension leaving her body, trusting him to keep them afloat. She buries her face into his drenched hair.

“I know,” she whispers.

Anyone interested in a Hanahaki Disease AU?

So Hanahaki Disease is a fictional illness where unrequited love triggers flowers to start blooming inside a person’s lungs until they suffocate. If the illness is caught early enough before the flowers begin blooming, the person can take medication to stop the buds from doing any damage. Once the flowers start blooming in the second stage, your only hope is to have them removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. It can be cured without side effects only when the feelings are returned an the flowers wither and die.



So the story begins when Lance realizes that he’s in love with Keith.
He’s really happy and thinks he has a good chance of the feelings being requited because they’ve been friends since high school and, come on, Lance is a catch.

Then Keith begins dating someone from their university. Depression hits Lance hard, but he keeps up a mask in front of everyone and no one suspects a thing is wrong.

Then comes the faithful night that Lance wakes up in a violent coughing fit that just wont stop. Once his lungs decide to work properly again, he’s shocked to find small petals in the palm of his hand.

Que the panic.

Ok, so while Hanahaki is the only illness to involve choking on flowers, He doesn’t really know the fundamentals of it. So he turns to the trusty Google and finds out that he’s in the second stage of Hanahaki. He can’t take the pills that stop the flowers from blooming like in the first stage and his only option to get rid of them is surgery.

But the surgery would make him forget Keith and maybe even make him Aromantic like a few survivors say they become after the surgery. And look, the thing is, that sounds horrible. Keith is more then his first love and first heart break, he’s one of Lance’s best friends and he makes Lance happy, even when he doesn’t love him back.

So Lance decides Not to do the surgery and make the most of the time he’s got left. He doesn’t tell anyone because he knew it would lead to them convincing him that the surgery was for the best. He spends time with his friends and family and makes sure everyone knows how much he loves them all.

He plans to confess to Keith so he doesn’t have any regrets and makes sure Keith knows that it’s his choice to die loving him versus living without remembering him.

But then a really bad coughing fit starts up and won’t stop. He begins gagging on petals and its getting harder to breath. Panic begins to set when his vision gets blurry and he starts shouting for help. He hears Hunk shouting. Then he hacks up a blood soaked flower before passing out.

He wakes up in the hospital.

Shiro is sitting at his bedside and explains that Hunk found Lance and brought him to the hospital before calling the others and how lucky he is that the doctors were able to remove all the flowers with emergency surgery. Shiro asks why he didn’t tell anyone he was sick and they have a heart to heart. After that, Shiro leaves to find a doctor and call the rest of the gang. “Keith’s gonna be so mad. This is the first time he’s left your side since you got out of surgery.”

Shiro left the room before Lance could ask who ‘Keith’ was.

(Part 2)

When Nico woke up drenched in sweat and covered in goosebumps, he knew it was going to be a bad day.

In fact, he spent his first 10 minutes of wakefulness staring at the ceiling and wondering where he went wrong. The flu had been circulating, but he’d taken the typical precautions. He’d stayed away from the campers who were sick, he washed his hands plenty, it wasn’t as though he’d exposed himself—but then, he remember that his stupid best friend was head of the infirmary, and that the asshole had probably carried the disease over. Will hadn’t been sick of course, he was an Apollo kid, but he probably exuded the flu germ.

After deciding that Will was, more or less, dead to him, he dragged himself out of his bed. A violent coughing fit left him dizzy and disoriented, and he had to sit down with his head between his knees to catch his breath. His temples throbbed and chills rocked his entire body, his stomach turning into knots. The son of Hades couldn’t decide if he’d be better off going to breakfast or going back to sleep. He didn’t really feel like dealing with mother hen Solace in his space about skipping a meal, but he also wasn’t sure it was a good idea to even walk to the pavilion, non the less eat anything.

In the end, he tossed aside his sweat dampened shirt and laid down on his stomach, muffling his coughing in his pillow. He still wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he knew he wasn’t about to get out of bed again. Part of him didn’t want to be alone, and part of him was maybe hoping that a certain healer might seek him out. Purely for some relief from the fever, and definitely not anything else. The knots in his stomach had turned into an hot, uncomfortable queasiness, and his head was pounding so hard that his vision blurred, so he just planned on spending the day in bed.

Nico wasn’t so sure when or how he dozed off with how uncomfortable he was, but the next thing he remembered he was being shaken awake by an irritated looking blond. Blinking away the bleariness in his eyes, Nico groaned loudly and curled up in the opposite direction.

“Nico di Angelo.” Will’s voice was sharp and accusatory, and just the tone of his voice made Nico think he had his hands on his hips. He was cold and sweaty, an unpleasant combination, and his stomach roiled violently as a protest against any sort of movement. The voice didn’t falter though. “You’d better get out of bed, you know you can’t just sleep all day. And you skipped breakfast, you know I hate it when you do that.” He sounded like he was going to continue, but Nico threw whatever was closest at him.

“Will, shut up.” Nico groaned, his voice coming out as a croak. “Leave me alone.” He must have sounded pretty pathetic, because Will immediately stopped.

“Nico? Are you alright?” Will’s voice was softer now, and the creak of the floor as he stepped over made Nico’s head ache.

“Do I look alright?” Nico asked, cracking one eye open as he turned to face Will, just in time to see the blond sit at the edge of the bed.

“Oh, geez. Not really.” Will chuckled, his smile apologetic as he laid a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up. Flu, maybe?” At least he had the sense to look guilty for barging in and waking him up.

“You’re the healer.” Nico croaked, turning his head away to cough into his pillow. The room was too bright, his head aching as he tried to calm his wheezing breaths.

“You sound awful.” Will said, patting his back gently as he coughed. “What are your symptoms?”

Nico rattled through his symptoms in his head—a cough, fever, headache, sore throat, nausea—but he was too tired to say it all, so instead, he shrugged. “Feel like shit…” He mumbled, shivering as a chill coursed through him.

“You know, if you tell me whats bothering you, I might be able to help you.” Will said, moving to card his fingers through Nico’s hair. Nico shivered at the sudden touch, his heart picking up in pace. He tried to tell himself that it was just because he usually didn’t like to be touched when he was sick. Will seemed to get away with a lot of things, though.

“I don’t exactly feel like talking.” Nico grumbled, turning away from him, just causing Will to drop his hand down to Nico’s back.

“Well, then I’ll assume it’s the flu. We should get you to the infirmary.” Will said. “I can get you medicine and something to eat.”

“Good luck getting me out of bed.” Nico muttered, though his voice caught and he was thrown into a coughing fit that rocked his entire body and made his eyes water. Will carefully guided him into a sitting position, and Nico didn’t have the energy to protest, especially when it made it so much easier to breathe.

“You’ll be better off in the infirmary, Nico. There’s medicine and healers—”

“You know I don’t need healing, the flu is out of your realm, everyone just goes there for fluids and cough syrup…” Nico croaked, swallowing thickly around the saliva that had suddenly pooled in his mouth. Just the act of sitting up had been enough to make everything worse, the various aches and pains more acute. He felt his stomach contents in his throat, all of the sudden, and he’d broken out in a cold sweat. Pressing his knuckles to his lips, he barely concealed a burp, and all at once he knew he was about to vomit.

Will’s years of healing had done him good in this situation, because as soon as Nico brought a hand to his mouth and his shoulders hiccuped with a barely contained heave, he had a trashcan shoved hastily under his chin.

Nico gagged and heaved a couple of times before he actually brought anything up, shaking and gray-skinned. Will had taken a spot on the edge of the bed, wrapping one arm around his shoulders to support him as he finally brought up a thin stream of bile and saliva. Nico didn’t eat much and it came up all at once, burning his throat and making his eyes sting. The nausea tapered off after that, leaving Nico trembling and exhausted and worn down.

Will set the trashcan aside without saying anything, letting Nico lean on him for support as he leveled himself and tucked his sweaty fringe back. “Yeesh.. Feel better?”

“Little bit…” Nico admitted, his voice croaky and quiet. “Less nauseous..”

“That’s good.. I’ll make you a deal- I’m going to get you a change of clothes, and you’re going to drink a glass of water, then i’ll let you rest, okay? But if you throw up again, you’re coming to the infirmary.”

Nico was far too tired to protest anything now, especially since it meant being able to sleep. He was too feverish to be embarrassed about being shirtless as Will helped wrangle him out of his sweaty clothes, and too exhausted to put up a fight as he was watched intently as he swallowed his glass of water.

Will was oddly quiet as he tucked Nico in, setting the trashcan close to the bed and another full glass of the water on the table. “I have to go to the infirmary for a minute to tell them I’m going to stay with you for a while, but I’ll be back.” He promised, voice soft. “Need anything before I go? I’ll only be a minute or two.”

“Mm.. No..” Nico mumbled, curling away from him. “Hurry up, m'cold.”

Will smiled to himself, rolling his eyes and giving Nico’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Five minutes, max.” He assured.

Nico was half awake when Will returned, curled up to face the wall, his eyes closed. The blond was humming very softly to himself, peering over Nico to assure he was asleep before slipping off his shoes.

The son of Hades hadn’t expected him to crawl into bed like he did, wrapping his arms around Nico and pulling him in close. He especially didn’t expect the kiss pressed to his temple as Will settled down in the bed.

He wasn’t exactly complaining, though.

Humans are weird: The Research Facility

*Quick note before I start: This is the 4th installment in a series I’ve called the Lost Colonies which is largely about human society adapting to the strange environments of other worlds. You can read the other installments here: 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed writing this series, but with my new work schedule I had to bring it to a close. If you’ve enjoyed this story follow me on here for my other writings. Thanks again to everyone who has reblogged, liked, replied, DMed, or otherwise shown their appreciation for this series. It means a lot to me that people enjoyed it and the love you’ve all shown me has really helped keep me going for these last few months.*

The airlock hissed and Kiara felt her knuckles ache as the pressure adjusted to the station. Reflexively she clenched and unclenched her fists trying to ease the dull throb that she could already feel spreading to her other joints. On most worlds that had significantly higher or lower pressure than Earth humans lived in enclosed dome cities or underground stations that were kept calibrated to standard Earth atmosphere. For some reason this facility seemed to be kept at a slightly higher pressure. It probably had something to do with the fact that the station was within the atmosphere of a hothouse planet similar to old Earth’s stellar neighbor Venus. She made a mental note to ask about it later when she got the chance.

The door to the airlock swung smoothly open despite the fact that it appeared to weigh nearly a metric ton. On the other side awaited a tall man who stood at full attention in a crisp military uniform. He gave a quick salute and gestured without a word for Kiara to follow him. The pair wandered down deserted corridors that had been polished to a mirror shine before arriving at the administrator’s office. The tall man knocked twice on the door before it slid into the wall, he then stood to the side of the door and snapped off another salute though Kiara noticed that his hand was trembling.

The administrator’s office was just as polished and barren as the rest of the station had been so far, the man himself, decidedly less so. The administrator was a short pale man who had cut himself badly attempting to shave with a thin ring of white hair around his head. He wore a suit which was several sizes too large and had been hastily pressed to try and remove some of the wrinkles. The administrator stood behind his desk and gave a quick nervous smile as he ushered Kiara into the room.

“Welcome to my facility. I apologize that I cannot offer more of a tour at this time but I’m afraid that I haven’t verified your clearance level yet Miss Williams.” Kiara smiled and offered a handshake ”It’s actually Mrs. Williams-Venn but Kiara will work just fine”. The administrator took her hand and then sat down quickly apologizing for the sweatiness of his palms. “Well, Kiara, I’m afraid that we haven’t had contact with EarthGov for some time now, and as such we’ve been unable to verify your rank or clearance level so until we are able to do so we cannot allow further access to this station. I hope you understand.”

Kiara took a long deep breath. It didn’t happen often, but holdouts like these were always difficult to deal with. It was an unfortunate failing of humanity that people could hold onto a failing ideology for centuries. Kiara looked the administrator over again. 15 sols of conducting personal interviews had taught her how to read people and this administrator looked nervous as hell. She’d have to play this one carefully. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name, Mr…” “Eckstein. Johnathan Eckstein.” “Well John, I’m sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid you won’t be able to grant me security clearance as that office of EarthGov no longer exists.”

John screamed and fell out of his chair and the guard at the door took off running. Kiara spun around expecting a threat coming from behind, seeing nothing she stood up cautiously and looked over the desk to see John cowering on the floor. He looked up at her and sobbed “Just make it quick.” Remembering the stories she had heard of EarthGov’s brutality it finally clicked in Kiara’s head. John thought she was sent there from EarthGov to kill them all. “Uh, John, Mr Eckstein, it’s fine. You can get up. I’m not here from EarthGov. They no longer exist.” John rolled over onto his back to look up at her, tears streaming down the sides of his face as he sobbed uncontrollably. “Really?” “Yeah, really.”

The sobs eventually turned into relived laughter as John picked himself up off the floor. Finally he slumped back down into his chair and slapped the intercom switch on his desk. “Condition Green. Code 2635. We’re clear everyone.” Kiara heard a dull roar of applause and shouts from down the corridor as the rest of the station cheered in celebration. “I’m sorry for all that Kiara, we’ve just been a little on edge since that transponder lit up. Would you like a drink?” John pulled a bottle of clear liquor out of the bottom drawer of his desk along with a pair of glasses and started filling both before she could answer.

Mildly amused she took the proffered drink and tapped the glasses together in an old Earth tradition. “Cheers” John’s face split into a wide grin as he downed the drink in a single gulp. Kiara tried to take a sip and broke out into a violent coughing fit. “Oh, yeah, sorry, we distill our own around here and, well, you get used to it.” Kiara set the “drink” back on the desk and smiled again at John. “So, how about we try this again. You tell me what’s been going on at this facility and I’ll fill you in on what’s been happening in the rest of the galaxy.”

John nodded and picked up Kiara’s glass and drained that too. “Where do I start? Ok, well, we were an EarthGov secret weapons research lab. We were stationed here to conceal our location with only one transponder to communicate to our higher ups in EarthGov. Our facility is entirely self sustaining since it could take several solar rotations for us to have a window to so much as get people on or off the planet. It wasn’t unusual for us to lose contact with the outside world for long periods of time so at first we didn’t notice that it had been a while since we had last heard from anyone. That while turned into a few years, then a decade.”

Kiara checked her datapad and asked “When did your people last have contact with anyone from EarthGov?” John looked like he was considering pouring another drink but put the bottle away instead. “218 years ago, plus a few months.” Kiara’s eyes went wide and she double checked her notes. “That was almost 20 sols after EarthGov fell!” John’s gaze wandered around the room as he lost himself in thought. “Hmm. You call them sols. Makes sense if we’re not being Earth-centric about our units of measurement. But yeah, not too surprising that they tried to keep their weapons development going for so long after it all went to shit. My grandmother said they were getting kinda weird for those last few transmissions.”

Kiara scribbled notes into her datapad as she tried to wrap her head around this new information. “I had heard a lot of stories about EarthGov I just never thought that- wait did you say ‘Grandmother’? As in it’s only been 2 generations in over 200 sols?” John laughed. “Yeah, I guess I’m a lot older than I look. That’s kinda what happens when you put a bunch of medical scientists in isolation for a few hundred years. I turn 120 in a few months, or whatever unit of measurement you use these days.” Kiara stared at the short man behind the desk. It was true, aside from the hair he didn’t appear any older than his early 40s.

“That’s remarkable. Can I ask how?” John just shrugged as though one of the most significant medical breakthroughs in human history was a minor matter. “Partly genetic therapy and partly cloned organs. We grow a kind of ‘genetic blank’ version of any organ you might need that carries enough DNA to be recognizably human and then when you need something replaced we just take the information we need from your existing cells and work it into the blank. It’s not perfect and we can’t replace everything, but I have a life expectancy of over twice my current age so long as I don’t damage anything important.”

Something clicked in the back of Kiara’s mind “Like I said, remarkable, but you just said ‘medical scientists’ I thought this was a weapons research facility?” John froze in place before scrunching up his face and mutter a curse under his breath. His hand reached again for the bottle in the desk before he stopped himself. “Yeah. Biological weapons. Look I’m not proud of it. No one here is. And everyone who was originally part of the project is dead. About a century we put it to a vote decided that EarthGov was probably gone for good and even if they weren’t that we couldn’t risk that kind of destruction getting out. So we destroyed all the virus samples that weren’t viable for other forms of research. There’s not anything left on this station that could hurt anyone.”

Kiara turned her datapad’s recorder off. “I want you to know that I’m on your side on this, and that I’ll present your case to the Galactic Republic. I’m sure that it will be fine, but I need to know. were the original scientists volunteers?” John stared off in silence for several minutes before finally answering “Yeah. Most of them. I don’t think there was any real animosity towards aliens, it’s just, there wasn’t a lot of work for scientists outside of the government. And what the government wanted was a weapon that the ‘alien threat’ couldn’t defend against. At least, that’s what my grandmother said.”

Kiara’s hands clenched into fists, her knuckles aching again though she didn’t think it was still from the pressure. “Were there any projects done on a virus for Turics?” John shook his head. “Probably, but we destroyed all that a long time ago. I’ll double check the files to make sure that nothing remains though. Why? You got a thing for the big furry bastards?” John was grinning until he saw the look on Kiara’s face. “I’m going to say this just once. If you’re going to be a part of the galactic community, you’re going to need to drop those prejudices right the fuck now. I’ve dealt with a lot of backwards bullshit in this job and I can tell you that if you want off this rock you’re going to have to unlearn a lot of that ‘human first’ mentality. Got it?” John was now paler than she had ever seen a human before. “Understood! I’ll make sure to bring it up with the rest of the facility at the next meeting Kiara.”

Kiara got up still glaring at John. “It’s Mrs. Williams-Venn. And for your sake, you should hope that you don’t have to hear that name again.”

anonymous asked:

Angst prompt! Hanahaki disease, any couple :D

Urban Dictionary: a fictional (emphasis on fictional) disease, often used in fanfictions, where the victim regurgitates and coughs up flower petals when they suffer from unrequited love.
_______________________________

It had started like a normal cough. A tickle in his chest, a scratch in his throat, both easily relieved with some hot, bitter alien tea Coran had given him.
But after a few weeks had passed and the symptoms only got worse Lance began to suspect something wasn’t quite right. He found himself running out of breath a little faster each day, his stamina during training dropping significantly until simply changing his clothes was enough to have him winded, any strain beyond walking down a hallway throwing him into violent coughing fits.
He spent several nights in a healing pod without any results beyond a relief to his sore muscles and not even the numerous scans Coran conducted managed to reveal what was wrong with him.

Until one morning, just after taking a ridiculously exhausting shower, Lance figured out exactly what was wrong with him. The humidity paired with the questionable strain of drying himself had sent him into another coughing fit, doubling over and heaving until, finally, he spit out a handful of deep red, crinkled flower petals into his palm.
He stared at them, mind blank and shocked to his core, until Shiro had entered the communal showers and he quickly hid the petals in his chest before feeling the room without a single word, panic creeping into every fibre of his being.

It was impossible. He was in a relationship. A very stable, fulfilling relationship. Hanahaki didn’t happen to people like him. People who had soft, loving, supportive partners, people who were happy.
But then it happened again. And again. He just kept coughing up these flower petals, sometimes tiny, sometimes larger, in deep shades of red and purple and light pastel pinks. It happened more and more often, so often that it became hard to hide from everyone else. Every cough during a meal or training session making panic flare up in his stomach when he had to crush the petals in his fist, hoping no one would notice the colourful stains in his palms.

He could feel Pidge giving him strange looks and Shiro becoming more and more worried each day as Coran ran every diagnostic possible with the ships incredibly advanced system to no avail.
But of course it was Hunk who caught him in the end, having dropped to his knees in the middle of his room in another violent coughing fit, clutching handfuls of bright pink petals to his chest, strain and desperation forcing tears to well up in his eyes as he looked up at his boyfriend.

“Is that … what I think it is?”, Hunk started carefully and Lance could already feel his big, soft heart starting to shatter, a painful squeeze answering in his own chest.
“Yes…”, he wheezed, voice hoarse and raspy. “No … I … I don’t know?” Hunk fell to his knees in front of him and Lance could barely swallow a helpless sob as that warm, deep gaze found his, large hands reaching out to wrap around his cold, sweaty ones to carefully pry his fingers open.
“I don’t know what’s wrong…!”, he insisted, a shiver running through his whole body as Hunks thumbs traced patterns into his palms, crinkling the delicate petals and making some of them drift to the floor. His eyes started to burn, tears welling up more and more until they spilled over, dripping down his cheeks.

“I love you!” This time it was a sob. “I swear to god I love you!”
“I love you too”, Hunk said, honest and warm but he sounded so small and Lance wanted to scream. “So it can’t be because of me.” Lance shook his head, eyes squeezed shut and forcing more tears to spill.
“It’s not! It’s not because of … but I don’t…” A hiccup interrupted his words and made him cough up another handful of tiny petals, silently falling into his lap.
Hunk reached up and cupped one of his wet cheeks with his wide, warm palm. Lance nuzzled into it without even thinking.

“Is it Allura?”, Hunk asked and Lance grit his teeth against another cough, sniffing. “Shiro? Ah, maybe it’s Keith…”
“It doesn’t matter!”, Lance wheezed before coughing again because he didn’t know, he didn’t even know. Why was this happening to him? “I can’t force anyone to love me!”

Strong, steady arms wrapped around his quivering body as Hunk pulled him into a tight hug, hooking his chin over Lance’s shoulder and muttering, in a soothing voice:
“It’s okay, we’ll find a cure. There has to be one, right? I bet Alteans can cure anything. You’ll be fine, you hear me? You’ll be fine, Lance…”
It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as his boyfriend.
Lance squeezed his eyes shut, let his tears soak into Hunk’s shirt and allowed himself to be lulled in by the soothing sound of Hunk’s voice, giving in to the illusion that there was a chance this wouldn’t end horribly for both of them. And for a few, blissful moments, he even managed to ignore the insistent scratch in the back of his throat.



[If you enjoyed this story, please consider buying me a coffee <3]

The Huntress.

Originally posted by disneyfeverdaily

Titled: ‘The Huntress.’ 

Pairing: Gaston x reader 

Word Count: 1,714 

Warnings: Gaston/Luke Evans feels, FLUFF, super angsty ending sorry not sorry, etc. 

A/N: This was a request from @brooke-supernatural16 : Can you do a one-shot with Gaston? Where the reader is a huntress and Gaston see the reader and instantly falls for her and follows her like he did with belle but is more polite with her?

A/N: I do hope this is what you were looking for in this fic! 

Tagging: @captainemwinchester @little-red-83 @impalaimagining@sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt @hobbithorse19 @feelmyroarrrr @lefouismylife @redimagines @letowolfie @ciaprincess @speedycatbluebird @haniiix33 @mademoiselle-lani


    It was a crisp and French morning. The ground was wet with a fresh layer of dew. The sun had barely risen over the horizon. Twas a nearly perfect morning for a hunt. Gaston has his sights on his hunting musket centered in on an innocent and meek, deer. He was patiently awaiting for the correct moment to apply the right amount pressure on the trigger. 

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Prosecution Rests

This is for @ohbelieveyoume​, you’re such a good mom!
I thought you could take care of Rafi too!
I hope you and your little one feel better soon!

It had been a busy morning at work, but you were finally done. Thanking your lucky stars that it was a half day, you walked out of the office. Taking your phone out of your bag, you looked down at the notifications; 5 missed calls from Carmen! You panicked and almost dropped your phone.

Why was Carmen calling you repeatedly?

With shaking hands, you hit the “call back” button and waited anxiously for an answer.

“ADA Barba’s office, Carmen speaking, how may I help you?”

“Carmen!”

“Oh thank God, you need to come down here right now!” Carmen sounded relieved to hear your voice, not worried, not that this abated your fears.

“Why? What…Is Rafael okay?”

“Right now, it’s not him I’m worried about!”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Have you seen him today?”

“No.”

“It would be great if you could come and take him home.”

“Carmen, do you think you could be a little bit more specific about what is going on?”

“Your boyfriend is sick and is terrorizing everyone in the office. Specific enough for you? He is yelling at the interns, he made one of them cry! The paralegals are nowhere to be seen. And if I catch whatever he has, I’m holding you personally responsible. Now could you please come and deal with this?” Carmen said all of this in a fierce whisper.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”


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anonymous asked:

34 for andreil?? (No rush of course 😊💖💖)

34. “The way you flirt is shameful.” (sorry this took two weeks ahhajkha)

“Can you hold this for me?”

Andrew stares contemptuously at Neil’s outstretched hand, annoyed but hardly surprised to find nothing in it. 

“Josten… that’s just your hand,” Andrew says, slowly as if to make it easier for Neil to understand.

“Astute observation.”

Andrew chooses to ignore the comment for Neil’s benefit.

“Are you asking me to hold your hand?” he says after a pregnant pause.

“And if I am?” Neil challenges, holding Andrew’s skeptical gaze. 

He never gets the chance to reply because, just then, Kevin bounds into their room, muttering about freshman shirking practice and Aaron’s lack of motivation. Andrew tries his best to ignore what just happened. 


The next day, it escalates. 

They’re on their way to the Court when Neil looks up from his phone, his attention snapping towards a recklessly driving Andrew. 

“Hey Andrew, are you words on a page?” Neil asks. 

“Why the fuc-” 

“Because you’re fine print.”

There’s approximately five seconds of silence out of pure shock before Nicky, in the backseat with Aaron, starts coughing violently in between fits of laughter. Aaron, for once, has nothing to say besides a resentful ‘let this car crash’ glare at no one in particular. 

“Jesus Christ, Neil, what the fuck!” Nicky chokes out, hand clutching his side as he gasps for air. Aaron continues to stare blankly into the abyss. 

But Neil is still watching Andrew for his reaction, none too surprised to find the absence of one. Andrew keeps his eyes on the road, not even sparing a glance at Neil to acknowledge him or his pick-up line. 


Yet, it continues. 

N: “Are you a magnet?”

A: “….”

N: “Because I’m attracted to you.”

Matt: “Neil, that only works for metal…”


N: “Are you google?”

A: “Neil.”

N: “Because you’re the answer to everything I need.”

Nicky: “Do you even know what google is?”

N: “…” [ nervous laughter ]


Until, two weeks after its began, Andrew breaks. 

Pressed against the locker room shower after yet another terrible (”Do you play exy?” “Sadly.” “Because you’re a keeper.”) pick-up line, Andrew finally gives up.

“Why. The. Fuck. Do. You. Keep. Saying. Those?”

“Saying what?” Neil replies with all the faux innocence of a man walking out of a brothel. 

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

Andrew huffs uncharacteristically, hands still gripping the front of Neil’s t-shirt. Neil looks down at Andrew’s hands before grinning devilishly up at the goalkeeper. 

“Hey Andrew-”

“Oh no.”

“-wanna know what my shirt is made out of?”

Andrew all but jogs out of the locker room, but still hears the echo of ‘boyfriend material’ follow him onto the court. 

Anon wanted Klance based on this post. Hope you like it! 

Lance had people telling him all week “you sound like you got yourself a nasty cold”, yet he didn’t feel it. Sure he had been constantly stifling sneezes at work, and maybe his voice was a little raspy thanks to coughing at all hours of the night, but he felt fine. More than fine, really. He felt great despite the persisting symptoms, so when Keith texted and asked for a date night on Friday, he happily agreed.

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The Unwell Reunion

Originally posted by igot7-love

Being sick sucks, but at least you’ve got JB @suhotrashanon


You had become a burrito. Being rolled up for so long on the couch had clearly turned you into one. It wasn’t that you wanted this. Oh no. But this is what illness had done to you. To make matters worse, you were surrounded by discarded tissues. You wanted to clean, but your body felt like it had been hit by a bus. That was how your boyfriend JB had found you. After being away for weeks, this was your reunion. “I’m dying,” you dramatically moaned.

JB laughed as he placed his bags by the door. “You’re not dying. You’re being dramatic.”

“Is there really a difference?”

He moved your feet, making room for himself to sit. He plopped down, making you groan in discomfort. “No, not really.” He stared at the TV before him. His eyebrows knitted together at the awful scene that was on the screen. It was a gruesome scene filled with blood and two bodies. “What are you watching?”

“A crime documentary,” you simply replied. This was your thing when you were sick. You weren’t sure what had gotten you so into these dramas, they were just so interesting. Who did it? Why did they do it? Things like that. It was a puzzle. And watching the methods of the investigation was so fascinating. Of course, you weren’t really in the right state of mind to fully process the information that was being fed to you. “It almost makes me want to go out and become a detective.”

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Quarantined Part 2

Name: Quarantined Part 2 out of 2

Word Count: 1955 Words

Pairing/Fandom: Keith/Lance/Voltron

Description: Keith and Lance develop a mysterious virus after being caught in strange conditions during a mission, forced to be quarantined together while the rest of the team works to find a cure. Hilarity ensues, but it isn’t long before things take a turn for the worse and the two begin to feel afraid.

Note: Hi again, here’s part two for you all! Thank you for all of your amazing comments and messages, I didn’t expect many people to respond since this is my first fic, so thank you! ♥ I hope you all enjoy. 

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Dramatic

Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: teasing, flufffff. 

A/N: I thought it would be appropriate to write this one today, since I’m feeling like crap today, Geez, the human body is so fragile. Anywho’s, this is another Anon Request. Thank you loves!

Anon Request—“Hi! I recently stumbled across your writing, and MY GOD is it awesome. I was wondering if you could do a fix with Cas x reader ,where the reader is sick, and the Winchester bros are teasing their little sister figure for being dramatic about it, and Cas gets kinda protective, but it’s funny and cute and fluffy? Sorry if this is really specific. Love ya! <3”

(Not my GIF)

Womp. Womp. Womp.

Your head pounded as you listened to Sam and Dean chatter across the map room table. You closed your eyes as you tried to drown out the throbbing pain their obnoxious voices caused.

“So, Y/N, did you find anything yet?” Dean’s voice warped in your ears as he leaned towards you. “Helloooo? Earth to Y/N?”

“Y/N, you look like Hell,” Sam commented, making a face as he studied your pale form.

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run3shadow  asked:

(my ideas won't leave me alone, so you're stuck dealing with it, lol) Yuri P moves out of LIlia's house after his first win, he's living in an apartment on his own and is loving it. Except when he starts getting sick on one of the friday evening on one of his few weekends off, he's fine, he's old enough to handle it. He takes some old cough medicine and goes to bed, he gets worse, on monday morning when he doesn't show up to practice. By the afternoon, no one has heard from him and are concerned

(ran out of room) Yuuri and Victor concerned, go to check on him, and Yuri is so bad that he has to be rushed to the hospital. How it ends is totally up to you! I just want to see it written if possible, lol

I love this prompt! And feel free to send me your ideas anytime, I love hearing them!

It’s nice to have a place of his own again. After his win in the Grand Prix Finals, Yuri had decided that he didn’t need live with his coach anymore and had moved out of Lilia’s house, back into his own apartment. He was definitely old enough to live on his own, he argued. In the end, Lilia and Yakov had given up and let him have his way.

Yuri is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and he knows it. So when the lingering exhaustion he’s been feeling since he woke up hasn’t gone away by the time practice is finished, Yuri is pretty sure that he’s getting sick. His weariness is joined by a pounding headache and dry cough by the time he gets home, and Yuri groans, flopping onto the couch. Getting back up seems like an insurmountable task, but eventually he forces his aching body upright and drags himself to the kitchen to have some dinner, despite not having an appetite.

One shower and change of clothes later, and Yuri is digging through his bathroom closet. He finds a bottle of cough medicine that may or may not be expired; it’s difficult to tell. His pounding head is making it difficult to read the tiny print on the bottle. Shrugging, he figures that it can’t hurt, and pours himself what he believes the correct dosage before collapsing into bed. He’ll feel better in the morning, after some sleep.

Saturday morning comes, and Yuri doesn’t wake up until nine o'clock, which is late for him. Despite the extra sleep, he doesn’t feel any better-all his muscles have gone stiff overnight, and his throat feels like he swallowed glass shards. Some cough drops would be nice, but Yuri doesn’t have the energy right now to make a run to the store. He’ll just have to make do with what he has available.

At least he doesn’t have practice today. For once, Yuri is grateful that his coaches make him take the weekends off during the off season. He can rest up today and tomorrow, kick this bug’s ass, and be ready to practice on Monday morning. His plan firmly in mind, Yuri settles himself on the couch in the living room, watching a crime show that he used to watch with his grandpa.

It would be nice to talk to his grandpa right now, but given how sore his throat is, he’s pretty sure that his voice is pretty much nonexistent. Yuri always misses grandpa, but especially now, when he feels so sick and miserable. He makes a mental note to give him a call when he’s feeling better. He spends the rest of the day drifting in and out of a restless sleep, catching occasional glimpses of what’s happening on the TV. He only gets up to use the bathroom or to refill his water, and once to nibble on some crackers and eat some soup he heated up in the microwave.

Despite all his resting, Yuri continues to feel worse as the day goes on. His cough is getting thicker and sharper, and the room feels hot and cold in turns. When he dozes off only to wake up on the floor next to the couch, Yuri decides to pick himself up and go to bed. He’s probably getting hit with the worst of the bug now, and after another good nights rest, he’ll be on the mend. Another dose of that cough medicine should do the trick.

Yuri wakes up to a violent coughing fit. He coughs and coughs and coughs endlessly, gasping for breath, until the fit finally, blessedly stops. The fit is so exhausting that he just lays there for several minutes afterward, trying to take in some air.

Getting out of bed seems too difficult today, so Yuri doesn’t even bother to try, just closes his eyes and swallows against his painfully sore throat, scraped raw by coughing. It’s freezing in his bedroom so he tugs the blankets around him and curls into a ball, surrounded by his warm cocoon. Once the shivering tapers off a bit, Yuri gratefully lets sleep claim him.

It doesn’t seem like he’ll be better in time for practice tomorrow, but calling in to say that feels to much like giving up. By the time he even thinks to do that, his vision is too hazy to look at his phone screen. He can’t help but feel like he’s forgetting something, but he’s too exhausted to think of what it is.

When Yuri doesn’t show up at the rink Monday morning, everyone is worried. “We were supposed to meet up this weekend to talk about his free program, but he never showed up,” says Victor, concern etching lines into his face.

“Has anyone heard from Yuri at all?” asks Yuuri. The answer is a resounding no from everyone.

“It’s not like him a to miss practice,” says Yakov, a frown creasing his face.

“Victor and I will go and check on him,” Yuuri says decisively. He’s got a bad feeling about this.

Yuri’s apartment is only a five minute drive from the ice rink-the better for jogging before practice. They climb up the stairs to the second floor, but when they knock on the door, there’s no response. Even more worried now, Victor pulls out the key that Yuri gave him in case of an emergency and unlocks the door.

They find Yuri in the bedroom, sleeping restlessly. He looks terrible; his face is pale, his cheeks are flushed, and his hair is plastered to his face with sweat. “Yuri, are you feeling okay? You don’t look very well,” Yuuri says, shaking his shoulder gently.

After a few seconds, Yuri manages to slowly crack his eyes open. “Katsudon?” he croaks out. “And Victor? What are you doing here?”

Yuri’s voice breaks on the last word, plunging him into another bout of wet-sounding coughs. Yuuri rubs his back as he continues to choke and gasp for air, saying something to Victor that Yuri doesn’t catch over the sound of his own ragged breathing. When the fit finally ends, Yuri slumps back into the pillows, groaning when Yuuri tugs on his arm.

“You’re very sick. We need to get you to a hospital. Can you stand?”

As it turns out, Yuri cannot stand. His knees buckle when he tries and the effort sends him into another fit of rattling coughs. Yuuri scoops him up, bracing one arm under his knees and the other under his shoulders to carry him to the car. “Victor is waiting for us in the car. We were worried when you didn’t show up to practice this morning and came to check on you. Why didn’t you tell anyone that it was this bad?”

Yuri doesn’t have the breath or the energy to respond, but he focuses on Yuuri’s words in an attempt to distract himself from his throat’s efforts to shred itself. Yuuri settles them both into the backseat, and tells Victor to step on it. Sitting up helps Yuri breathe a little better, but he’s so exhausted he can barely keep his eyes open.

“Stay awake,” Yuuri says, nudging him when his eyes fall closed.

“Fuck off, katsudon,” Yuri mumbles tiredly. The last thing he hears is an exasperated sigh from Yuuri before darkness claims him again.

When Yuri finally regains consciousness, he’s in an uncomfortable bed surrounded by painfully white walls-a hospital. He groans.

“You’re finally awake,” says a voice from the chair next to his bed. Yuri turns his head to see Victor.

“Why’m I here?” mutters Yuri, his voice coming out raspy. Victor winces at the sound and passes Yuri a glass of water, which he takes gratefully.

“You have pneumonia. I’m afraid that you’re going to be here for a while. Probably a few days, at least.”

Yuri scowls but his throat hurts too much to yell like he wants to. He settles for a sulky glare instead.

“Yuri, why didn’t you tell us that it was this bad?” Victor asks, unaffected by Yuri’s anger.

“I thought it was just a cold,” Yuri argues, careful not to raise his voice. The water helped soothe the soreness a little, but he doesn’t want to risk setting off another coughing fit. “Plus, I was taking care of myself. I even took medicine!” he announces, as though it’s some sort of epic achievement.

“You mean that cough medicine that I bought you years ago? That’s definitely gone bad by now. You should look into restocking your medicine cabinet.”

Yuri smirks at him. “You’re one to talk, geezer. You didn’t even own any medicine before Yuuri moved in with you.”

One Hell of a Lucky Guy

Steroline (sort of?) AU future fic - prompt what if Caroline meet one of Stefan’s doppelgangers in the future. Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

Chapter 4

Caroline was busy in the greenhouse cutting the fully grown vervain flowers ready to make more bracelets as well as starting the extraction process for the liquid she need to add to the school’s water supply of the dorms now that all her students had returned. She knew most of her students were witches and therefore un-compellable anyway but she felt it was always better to be safe than sorry especially when it came to her students safety.

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3

♔ May 6, 1910 – Death of King Edward VII 

Bertie met death with courage. At one moment he said, ‘I am feeling better and intend to fight this, and I shall be about again in a day.’ He refused to go to bed that night, but sat up in a chair, fighting for breath and unable to speak.

In the morning he was wrose, but he insisted on dressing. He rejected the informal clothes laid out for him by his valet, and asked for grey trousers. He was angry when the doctors forbade him from having a bath. He tried to do business with Davinson and Knollys but his voice was faint and indistinct. He smoked half a cigar and had a violent coughing fit.

Outside Buckingham Palace, a crowd gathered waiting for news. Margot Asquith was ne of the first to go to the palace to sign her name, ’It is like a dream and all London is standing still with anxiety’, she wrote. At one p.m., Bertie walked to his bedroom window to play with his canaries, and fainted. Nox the oxygen was given almost continuously and so were the strychnine injections, but to less and less effect; he gradually lost consciousness during the afternoon, slumping forward in his chair.

The last authentically recorded words that Bertie spoke were ’I am so glad’, when Georgie told him that his horse Witch of the Air had won the 4.15 at Kempton park. He then suffered an alarming heart attack. Alix watched as her husband drifted into a coma. At eleven, they lifted him out of his chair into bed, quite unconscious. The Prince of Wales called the archbishop into the King’s bedroom at 11.30. Fifteen minutes later, the King was dead. ’I have seldom or never seen a quieter passing of the river,’ wrote the archbishop.     {Bertie by Jane Ridley}

you’re my home, stay with me

One-shot, 7.2k words. Also on ff.net if you prefer that reading format.

Summary: Even without Gaston’s evil schemes hurrying the story along, Belle still finds she can’t stop thinking about the castle and its inhabitants. Is she crazy for missing that creepy old castle? For missing him? 

Meanwhile, Chip gets a chance to play matchmaker.

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Sick Cuddles ~ Brad Imagine

Originally posted by onecheshirecat


Brad had recently come off The Vamps world tour, now usually he would spend the first couple of days with his family then he would be straight over to your little apartment giggling and bouncing around like the little ball of energy he is.

Although this time, this wasn’t the case.

It had been a week and a bit since the tour had finished and you still haven’t seen him. He was meant to of been coming over on the Thursday, three days after tour had finished but he sent you a text telling you he had plans with family and you guys rearranged for the next day, but he suddenly had plans again and now it was Thursday, a week since he had been back.

You were getting worried, you understood the first two days he cancelled because he had just got back and he wanted to spend time with family but you have been dating for two years now and this hasn’t happened before and you know for a fact his mum would have dragged him all the way here.

Picking up your phone, you decided to FaceTime him only to be greeted with Anne’s caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Hey sweetie, I’m just calling to ask if you can come over and look after Brad?”

“What do you mean? I thought you guys were going out?” You replied confused.

“What? No? We haven’t been able to go outside since Brad’s had that awful chest infection. He didn’t tell you?”

“No… he told me he was spending the week with you guys because he missed you.”

“He hasn’t let his bed since the day he came back.”

“I’ll be right round, Anne.”

“Thanks Hun, just let yourself in I’ll be gone before you get here.”

Sighing you grabbed your car keys and purse and made your way the Simpson’s house hold. 


Knocking loudly on Brad’s bedroom door, you waiting to hear his reply.

“Go away.” You heard your boyfriends raspy voice through the door with a series of coughing straight after.

“Brad.” You spoke softly, knocking again.

There was a loud thud before you heard feet pattering against the floor, “Y/N?” Brad called unlocking his bedroom door a little, so you can see his little curls. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think babe? You told me you were busy with family but from what your mum told me is that you been busying dying in bed.” you stated with your arms crossed.

“I’m not dying. I can take care of myself.” Brad said before having a violent coughing fit.

“Please Brad.” You insisted

“Y/N, I’m fi-” Brad cut himself off with another coughing fit.

You stayed silent knowing what was about to happen in the next thirty seconds.

“Okay.” Brad stated before opening the door to reveal his pale face, big purple bags under his eyes and his hair damp due to him sweating, “I’m dying.”.

You laughed lightly before picking up two shopping bags and pushing Brad back onto his bed. Turning around you placed the shopping backs on the floor, and walked to his drawers where you have a draw for yourself. Opening it up and pick out some runner shorts and one of Brads tee, you got rid of your jeans and top and climbed into bed with him.

Brad shifted around until his head was resting on your chest and his legs were intertwined with your own, you both laid there in silence with you running your hands through his hair and the occasional cough from Brad before he decided to speak up.

“What’s in the bags?” He looked up towards you with a little frown on his face, “You didn’t get that disgusting pink tablets like you did last time, did you?”

Laughing loudly, you shake your head remembering the last time you gave him chest tablets.

“Ooo they are pink.” Brad said grinning at the tablets.

“Yes, babe they are pink. Just take them.” You laughed passing him a glass of water.

You watched Brad throw them in his mouth then all of a sudden his face turns to disgust and he gulped down the whole glass before getting up and spirting to the table where you had left a bag of galaxy chocolate, he picked it up and threw a hand full in his mouth.

“That was disgusting!” He shouted turning to face you, who had been laughing the whole time. “What kind of tablet was that? That tasted like gone of milk.”

Placing the bags on the bed, Brad sat up on his elbows and watched you. “Okay, so I know with your chest you refuse to eat anything but I know you like to sneak a few kiwis when no one is looking, so I brought two bags full of them. You also don’t like to drink tap water so I went and brought five of your favourite vitamin water and I went and picked up your subscription from the doctors as well. He…”

As you trailed off talking about what the doctor said you failed to miss the look of adoration he was giving you, with only one thought going through his head.

“I love you.” He said softly, as you turned to face him with two tablets and his vitamin water.

“I love you too, now take these and we can watch 21 and 22 jump street.” You smiled climbing back into bed and cuddling into him as you clicked the netflix button on his tv.

“I really do love you Y/N.” Brad smiled looking down at you, while you looked up and smiled at him.

#115 Sidney Crosby Imagine

“Sidney?” You coughed.

For weeks you had been bed rested. After multiple doctors appointments and rounds of antibiotics nothing seemed to be kicking your lung infection. You still felt yourself getting weaker and weaker with every intense coughing fit that came upon you. It seemed all the doctors had to tell you was that as a person with asthma this sometimes happens. You get a cold, and it just progresses into Pneumonia. To top of all of it you are allergic to most medicines that can kill the virus, so what you can take is limited and as you are finding, quite ineffective.

“Sid-” You broke off suddenly hit with a violent coughing fit. All of a sudden you felt your airways constricting. You gasped and gasped but couldn’t seem to fill your lungs. Frantically, you swung your arms around the bed looking for your inhaler. Black splotches started creeping their way into your vision, reminding you of the times as a kid you dove too deep into a pool and felt yourself out of air and near drowning.

Sidney burst his way into the room, his hair wet and towel being held up by one hand. He saw your red face as you coughed and coughed trying to get air in. He lunged forward, finding your red inhaler and handing it to you. You barely managed to get off the cap and gasp some of the medicine in before going completely limp.

“(Y/N)?” Sidney ran to your side reaching for neck to feel a pulse. He sighed relieved to find one.

Sidney tied his towel and reached his hands to his head, unsure what to do.

He gently shook you, hoping that you would wake up breathing just fine. “Shit. No that isn’t realistic.”  He told himself.

Sidney ran to the closet to get clothes on before grabbing his keys and your inhaler to put in his pockets.

“(Y/N). We are going to the hospital. I’m sorry.”

Sidney placed one arm under your back and one under your legs and lifted you out of bed. He carried you quickly down the stairs and out to the car.

You awoke in the hospital to the sounds of beeping machines and the hum of a breathing treatment. You opened your eyes slightly to see Sidney sitting in a chair next to you with his hands and head resting on the bedside rails.

“Good morning.” You croaked out.

Sidney’s head snapped up and he stood. His face showing just how worried he had been. He cupped one side of your face and kissed your forehead.

“Are you okay?” He knelt back down to be eye level with you.

You nodded slightly, realizing the air mask strapped around your face.

“What happened?” You asked him.

Sidney explained that you fainted partially due to lack of oxygen and partly because you hadn’t been eating in the last couple days which has made you very weak.

“They gave you stuff through the iv while you were sleeping. They also propped you up and gave you another x-ray. The doctor said he was shocked this hasn’t happened to you earlier. The infection is taking up most of your lungs. He said that doesn’t happen very often. It is usually only in one lung or parts of both.”

You sighed and smiled slightly. Giving off a tiny laugh.

“It WOULD happen to me, wouldn’t it?”

Sidney chuckled a little too, hanging his head and smiling.

“It would. It’s like your dad has always said to me; we’d wrap you in bubble wrap, but somehow you would choke on it.”

You laughed a little harder until it turned into a cough again. You relaxed against the pillows again.

“I am exhausted. What time is it?” You asked.

Sidney looked down at the watch on his wrist, “It is 5 pm. It was 5:30 am when you woke up this morning.”

You looked over at the wall clock to confirm what he had said, a little panicked, “Wait, you had practice and a game tonight. What are you doing?”

Sidney nodded. “I called Sullivan. He said I can miss tonight. We have 3 days off after this game so I can have a couple more days to watch you with just practices to leave for.”

You sighed, “Sid, you don’t have to miss games for me.”

He looked back at you with surprise, “(Y/N), you almost died today, do you realize that?”

You didn’t reply. You honestly felt like you were dying, but you didn’t want to tell anyone that in case you really weren’t in that bad of shape.

“I did?”

Sid nodded, “Yes. You did. The doctors want you to stay here, but I know you don’t want to do that. I convinced them to let you discharge and go home with a nebulizer. That’s the thing that you are using right now. The little masky thing. They came in and talked to me all about it.”

Sid looked very proud of himself for being so technical. You tried not to chuckle.

“So anyways, I want to watch you, but I have practices. So I called my mom and she is going to come take care of you when I can’t.”

You thought everything over in your head quickly. Deciding that having Trina around to cook and clean and get you your medicine might not be too bad. There was no way you could do it yourself. For the first time since you were a little kid, you decided you were sick enough to bend your knee and allow people to help.

“Thank you, Sid.” You said finally.

Sid reached over and squeezed your IV free hand.

“Anything for you, (Y/N). Now let’s get home. We are watching movies, eating whatever and relaxing for the rest of the night. Do you want pizza?”

You smiled, “The way to my heart. God, I love this guy.”

“You know it.” You said.

Sid smiled and walked out of the room to find a nurse to discharge you.

-Ashley