some prefer cake

Imagine...

Originally posted by youtubersandothers

Being in the hospital and get told that you have something incurable, but the team find out they had made a mistake. But You’re already on the roof about to jump off and House comes and saves you from yourself. (Request by Anonymous. Sorry, Anon, if I made mistakes, I’m an art history student, 😉, and if something like this happened to you, fight until the end, even it’s hard, cause life is awesome, and you deserve it !)


You sat on your bed, looking away from the window. You thought of your life and all the things now that you would never do again. Like brushing your hair. It’s very hard to brush your hair without hair. And anyway, chemotherapy doesn’t even give you the energy to do so.

Yeah. Cancer, such a funny thing.

You had been diagnosed with cancer and tumors in the lymph nodes a year ago, and since then you were stuck here, alternating between sessions of chemotherapy, radiotherapy, and tries to drill a hole in the wall opposite your bed strength to fix it.

You tried to continue your studies, but each of your sessions left you exhausted. Your friends came to see you at first, but they were tired of looking at you through a window, like a fish in an aquarium, and they continued their lives without you. As for your family, you had enough to make them suffer with you, in this slow death, which destroyed them at the same time as you. That was that, they could not continue on with their lives. They were stuck with you, and you were the fetlock which prevented them from advancing.

But apart from that, life is so cool! You thought bitterly.

You look at your hands, so thin and frail, with IV hooked in them, that was the image of your body. You were so tired of everything. At some point, you just wanted to stop everything, and to sleep eternally. You look outside your room, the hall was full of life. The doctors spoke animatedly among themselves, the families spent time together, and at least they could leave.

You see from the other side of the service your medicine, Dr. Wilson, speaking with his friend, in absence of a better word, Dr. House. They were probably talking about a new strange case, Dr. Lisa Cuddy’s push-up, or Monsters Trucks. Cause, yes, hearing and eavesdropping on the others talking was the only thing you could do the whole day.

You were so tired. You made your decision.


Precisely, on the other side of the service, House and Wilson were talking about you precisely. Your treatment was not working at all, and you was going from bad to worse, instead of talking about a few more years, it looked like you would have a few weeks instead.

Wilson was trying to talk to House about you, in order to resume the case. After all, it might be possible that he made a mistake. It could be a better way of thinking, he could have made a mistake and he wanted to try to heal her rather than watch her die.

Secretly, House thought it was odd, and had already started working on this case with his team. But he was sure it wasn’t cancer. He would cut off his left leg if it was.

“House!” Cameron called from down the hall, arriving at almost a run. She was holding the analysis results. “It’s not cancer! She presents a low albumin levels, and it is positive for Castleman’s disease.“

The three doctors turned and looked in the direction of your room. Wilson was preparing to announce the good news, but found it was empty. They rushed into the room, half panicking. Cameron asked the nurse, who had no idea where you went.

They rushed outside the room, preparing to search the whole hospital and called security. House, meanwhile, quietly looked around, letting go before nonchalantly announcing, “If anyone is looking for me, I’m in my office.”

While everyone was working to find you, he took the way to the roof, rather than his office.


After a dangerous escalation by the stairs leading to the roof, he saw you sitting on the roof edge, legs dangling in the air. He approached you carefully before sitting on the other side of the guardrail. He leaned against that railing, watching the ground several meters below them.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“I’m checking that if you fall, you don’t crash my bike, that would be a mess, besides having to clean off the bloodstains.“

“Thanks, I’m sorry for your bike, are you going to cry, or do you want to check it for yourself?”

“Don’t take me for an idiot, it’s you who wants to jump.“ He looks at you with a sarcastic glance.

“Despite your leg, you still have many years to live. How long do I have? A few weeks? A few months? What can I do now?”

“Live? And by live, I mean survive. What would you do, if you wasn’t suppose to die?”

“It’s so nice to remember what I can never do. Other than that, I would love to be a (Your/Dream/Job).” you say, looking into space. “It will never be.”

“You’re such a drama queen! Of course yes, you can become it. Only if you feel like it.“

“Of course I want to do it, but do I have a choice? I will die soon !”

“That’s what people do! You can choose to live, after all. Stop being whiny and take your life in your hands. You can choose to stay here, to jump and end your life in the worst way. The only problem is knowing how long you stay alive after you bones are shattered on the ground. Or…… You can still decide to fight a little, to cling to life.” You start to cry, your determination beginning to fail.

“Let’s make a choice: what do you prefer? Some cake, or no cake at all? Everybody can have cake, some have a big part, others have only a crumb. And yes, life is not fair, but then she gives you the choice.“ You start to smile through your tears.

“(Your/Favorite/Flavour) cake ?” He smiles back at you, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“And here we go!” he says with enthusiasm. “Now that you are no longer occupied by these small unpleasant existential crises, I have good news for you. You’re gonna live.”

“If you offer me (Y/F/F) cake, how can I refuse?” you laugh at him gently.

“Good for you to react like this, but you don’t have cancer. You’re really gonna live, and for a long long time.” You look at him apprehensively; as if he would pull out a pointed hat with his stick and yelling “surprise” before pushing yourself to the railing. “I’m serious.”

“I will … live? Like really living, out of the hospital and everything ?”

“Yes, and when you’re out, you will become a (Y/D/J) and have a string of brawlers brats, you’re going to bawl with your lover, maybe smash plates against the wall. But one more important point.” He says, looking at you, while you pull your legs onto the other side of the fence. You wait for the end of his sentence with apprehension. “Everytime you eat a cake, and when I say everytime, I really mean everytime, you will think of me”. You start to cry again and laugh, but from happiness this time, a huge smile spreading across your face.

“Enough foreplay”, he says “Are you gonna kiss me or not ?”

“You know, I’m hesitating between actually kissing you and crushing this piece of cake in your face.”

“Oh my god, that’s so bad, you don’t even have a cake. What are you gonna do?”

“Do I really have a choice? It seems I have to kiss you, obviously!”

He Cheats on You (cashton/4)

If people like this I could post 4/4 or a second part???

Ashton:

It was unexpected, something that slapped you hard in the face, a dash of reality topping the cake of your life. Ashton treated you perfectly, paying just enough attention, making you dinner after a hard day, sending you flowers while away on tour. Little did you know each silky petal was just an apology, a cover-up for each woman he bedded besides you. Calum told you. He was an honest man, he couldn’t keep it from you. They were on tour, and Calum called you up when he had a break. It was impossible; you refused to believe it. “He would never,” you had said to him, more for yourself than anyone else. With some convincing proof and a heartfelt apology, you both hung up, immediately going to Ashton’s contact. Hesitating briefly, you blocked his number. Typing out a quick tweet, you closed your Twitter app.

“the single life is doing me well”

Calum:

You had sensed something wrong with Calum recently. He didn’t treat you the same. It was hardly noticeable, but you knew him well enough. Instead of flashing you with his silent laughter like normal, he would only pay a small grin in your direction. Instead of finding a way to be as close to you as possible, he would slowly edge way, as if he moved too quickly you would duck away like a deer. One day, while doing laundry, you lifted one of Calum’s band shirts up from the basket. Very faintly, on the neck of the shirt, you noticed a smear of lipstick. Frowning, you wondered. You hadn’t warn lipstick in a few weeks, so you weren’t sure where it had come from. Then, like a bucket of ice water washing over you, you realized, “He’s cheating on me.”

lazulisong  asked:

I HOPE THIS GOES THROUGH BECAUSE ... MOBILE ... BUT HOW ABOUT TEAM ASSASIN GOING SHOPPING VERY SERIOUSLY FOR STEVE BIRTHDAY CUPCAKES WHILE SAM TEXTS STEVE LIKE "HOW AM I THE ACTUAL VOICE OF REASON HERE?????" PS feel better boo.

Sam’s phone rings at 3:43 AM on the 4th and he’s a superhero now so he’s not allowed to throw it across the room and go back to sleep.

“‘lo?” he mumbles into the phone.

“We need tactical advice,” said Natasha. There’s some conversation and it sounds like she’s put her hand over the phone for a consultation before she continues. “Maybe strategic.”

“…OK?” Sam says, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “What’s the situation?”

More mumbled consultation. Sam pushes himself up a bit against the headboard. He’s still not 100% awake so he just waits it out.

“Barton and I did not have….traditional childhoods,” she says finally. “We are unaware of the procedure for a birthday dessert.”

“Cake,” corrects Barton’s voice. “I’m pretty sure it’s a birthday cake.”

“I’ve got this,” Natasha hissed at him. Then to Sam: “Please advise, are cupcakes a suitable alternative to cake?”

Sam sighed. “Depends on who the kid is,” he said. “Some kids prefer cupcakes, some prefer cake.”

There’s a brief confused pause.

“Is there a separate set of rules if the person in question is old?” Natasha asked. “Like….really old?” And that’s when it all clicks for Sam. Ah.

“Man, I don’t know,” Sam said. “It’s the middle of the night, Tasha. You’ve had three weeks to figure this out.”

Barton had three weeks to figure this out,” she corrected. “I have taken over the operation due to inactivity.”

I totally had this,” said Barton and then there’s a definite smacking sound.

“I don’t even know what flavors Steve likes,” said Sam. “Ask somebody else.”

“Hmmmm,” said Natasha thoughtfully. “I think I know who might have that information.”

“Good. Call them. Wake that poor sucker up instead, I’m going back to sleep.”

And that’s how the Winter Soldier got coerced into helping find Steve Rogers some birthday cupcakes. And it’s also how Bucky Barnes remembered he was a little shithead and the cupcakes all were elaborately patriotic, carefully crafted to have rings of red in each cupcake and tiny blue stars on top.

He hadn’t known he could bake until the Black Widow and Hawkeye crashed into his safehouse just before dawn and presented their mission to him.

Fandoms United: Percy Jackson, The Hunger Games, Divergent & The Mortal Instruments
  • Percy: Hey, you guys wanna order some pizza?
  • Peeta: Can't we just get some bread?
  • Tris: PEETA!!! Don't eat the bread!
  • Tobias: How about some cake? Preferably dauntless..
  • Clary: Just get me some coffee, black-
  • Simon: Just like her soul..
  • Percy: Ewww.. Can't it be blue cherry coke?
  • Jace: I. DONT. CARE. JUST. GET. ME. SOMETHING. BROWN.
  • Percy: Blue food is possible! Gods!
  • Katniss: I'll just have some lamb stew..
  • Isabelle: Ooohhh I'll make something!!
  • Haymitch: I'll have a beer..
  • Jace, Clary, Simon & Alec: IZZY, NOOOOOOO!DON'T COOK ANYTHING
  • Percy: Izzy? Can you make something blue?
  • Magnus: If we make something blue, we gotta add some GLITTER !!!!
  • Jace: -slams knife in table- MUNDANES, we're getting something brown.
  • Effie: THAT IS MAHOGANY!!!
  • Katniss: psh, that wasn't a good idea, Herondale