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cursestothemoon · 3 years

Text

Paging Dr. Weasley

Requested: yes

George Weasley x fem! reader

Warnings: strong language, asthma, fever and illness symptoms, food

Word Count: 3031

Summary: George is excited to go see the new products at Zonko’s and the harsh weather isn’t going to stop him. The reader has asthma and she's a bit apprehensive about going out in the cold, dry weather but George insists it’ll be fine. George, unfortunately, is wrong.

***

The night prior it was quite clear to you that the weather would be horrid. The wind, aggressive in nature, thrashed and collided with the walls of the stone walls of the castle. You were fortunate, however, tucked under your boyfriend George’s arm, asleep in his warm dorm. He had insisted that you stayed the night with him, when it got cold out he got clingy, and you had no objections to his suggestion. The following day you were to venture down to Hogsmeade with George, a week ago the plan was made when he mentioned needing prank supplies from Zonko’s, Fred unable to go because of a weekend detention he got himself. With the oncoming storm you had assumed that tomorrow’s plans had been canceled, knowing from past learning experiences the harsh cold was no help to your asthma.

Light flooded through the window in George’s dorm, a bright white that pierced your eyes even as they rest under your lids. You turned away from the harsh light, nose pushing into the warm, inviting chest of your boyfriend as you tried to slip back into a deeper sleep. A deeper sleep would not come, it wasn’t long after you turned that you were fully awoken by a deep groan.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, I told Lee to close the stupid curtains when he got in too.” George grumbled, hand smacking against his face to cover his eyes.

You were silent as you slowly shimmied yourself higher onto the pillow, motioning for him to lower himself so his face would be in your neck, concealed from the morning sun reflecting off the night's snow. George happily complied, humming his gratitude as he nuzzled into your neck before placing a gentle kiss where your shoulder met your neck.

“Who opened the fucking window?” Fred’s voice was heard after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

His tone showed his clear annoyance, followed by a groan and the shuffling of covers probably a result from him angrily pulling them over his head.

“I might’ve forgotten.” Lee answered from his bed making Fred chuck one of his pillows at him.

George groaned into your neck, “Will you two wankers shut up. We’re trying to sleep.”

“We?” Lee and Fred asked in unison before Fred continued, “Is Y/n there with you?”

George and you had retired to bed quite early last night, and neither of you expected Lee or Fred to check to see if George was alone last night before going to sleep.

“Yeah she’s here so shut up.” George grumbled again.

You could hear Fred, or Lee you weren’t sure, as they moved around in their bed before they spoke. It was Fred.

“Was the poor girl buried under the blankets all night?”

You decided to respond this time, “No, I had my face out to breathe.”

“Guess it’s time to get up.” Lee grumbled, moving to swing his legs out from under the covers.

“Maybe if you closed the curtains we’d all still be asleep a bit longer.” George sassed as he moved to sit up, not before giving you a good morning kiss on your forehead.

“Maybe if you closed the curtains…” Lee mimicked in a high voice, getting up to go to the bathroom.

Deciding that sleep would not be achieved until tonight, you too, sat up, knuckling at your eyes as you leaned against George’s chest. He circled his arms around your waist, placing another kiss to the crown of your head.

“Morning, pretty girl.” He rasped into your ear.

Unfortunately it was loud enough for Fred to hear and make a gagging noise as he turned away from you two.

“Disgusting. When you guys leave feel free to close the curtains, yeah?” He mumbled from under his covers, a few tendrils of fiery hair poking out.

You shuffled your legs over the edge of the mattress, standing up and stretching before grabbing the pillow you had been using to go over and smack Fred from over the sheets.

“Get up you wanker.”

He yelped before sitting up abruptly, hair a literal mess with strands sticking out randomly, “Georgie! Your girlfriend is attacking me, make her stop.”

George pretended to think for a moment before answering, “No. I don’t think I will.”

Fred feigned offence before also getting up and out of bed, his maroon boxers with green ‘F’s on them were quite the sight.

“Mate, it’s snowing out. How are you only wearing your knickers.” Lee asked, coming out from the bathroom.

“Run hot.” Fred answered simply with an overly flirty wink directed at Lee.

“Merlin…” George muttered, shaking his head as he got out of bed.

You smiled at your beloved, his hair- much like his brother’s- a frizzy mess of red locks and his eyes still puffy from just having woken up, but unlike his twin, George had on a pair of flannel pajama pants and an old Gryffindor t-shirt that he had cut to show his midriff. He was quite literally perfect, his pants hanging low on his hips- just exposing his v-line- and his t-shirt, now crop top, ended just above his belly button, an auburn happy-trail in view.

“You ready for today?” George asked, pulling you out of your less than innocent thoughts, his knowing smirk a clear sign that you had been caught ogling at him.

You stood for a moment in thought, “Today?”

George nodded, “Zonko’s, butterbeer, our plan to go to Hogsmeade.”

“I thought we would postpone that, the weather is horrid.”

He peered out the window before turning back to you, “It isn’t snowing much anymore, I think we should be in the clear.”

“Don’t you have asthma though? Won’t it make it act up?” Fred asked as he slipped on his shoes.

You nodded slowly, moving to fix the astray sheets on George’s bed, “Yeah, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go out today.”

George pouted slightly, “We’ll bundle you up extra warm, and it’ll be quick. You’ll be ok, you haven’t had an attack in so long.”

You knew why he was so keen on going, Zonko’s had a new line of products that he was dying to get his hands on. He’d been talking about it for months, he and Fred finally saving up enough money from selling their own things to go purchase a few things. You felt bad, and he was right, you hadn’t had an asthma attack in a while so perhaps you’d be fine.

“Alright, but we’ll need to stop by my dorm so I can get my thick scarf. The one that goes up over my nose.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have it anyother way.”

An hour later you and George were ready to go, two scarves- one long enough to go over your nose- a beanie, fuzzy socks, and a pair of George’s mittens were part of the outfit you were sporting. You felt a lot more confident in your attire now, nothing could go wrong...right?

It went wrong.

So very wrong.

The first half hour out on the town was fine, a bit chilly but George was there to wrap an arm around you and pull up your scarf so it covered your nose. Then, as the forty-five minute mark hit, you started to feel a bit...wheezy. The scarf kept slipping, the wind had picked up, and it was extremely dry out. Once it hit an hour you were in a full blown asthma attack, having to pull out a rescue inhaler- something you made sure to bring with you no matter how confident you were at first- and George felt absolutely terrible as he watched you try to catch your breath in The Three Broomsticks.

George rubbed a hand in comforting circles on your back as you took a few inhales of your inhaler trying to stop the painful wheezes. You reached behind you, putting a hand on his to try and tell him it was alright and you didn’t blame him, knowing he’d be beating himself up over this.

Once your breathing had leveled enough for you to string together a few words uninterrupted, you turned to your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry but I think it would be better if I went back.” You muttered, voice still a little raspy.

George crouched down, face to face with you sitting in a chair, as he spoke, “Baby,” He cooed, “You shouldn’t be sorry. I’m sorry I forced you to come out knowing you have asthma and you were worried. I should’ve been thinking more about you, pretty girl.”

You shook your head gently, “It’s alright George, you were excited. No one needs to apologize, let’s just go.”

George silently agreed, moving to remove his scarf as you stood up. He pulled up your scarf so it went over your nose and wrapped his own scarf around it in hopes of it staying up better. Once he was happy with his work, he grabbed your mitten covered hand and you two walked out of the little pub.

Fortunately, you two got back to the castle without another asthma attack hitting you. George took you straight to his dorm, and sat you on his bed. The dorm was empty, it was still rather early in the day, but you felt your eyes start to droop as fatigue from the asthma attack, shivering in the cold, and fighting your way through the snow all came crashing down on you. You were also starting to get a headache, something you were definitely not happy about.

The lanky ginger noticed how tired you started to look and felt his heart melt all while guilt nearly ate him alive. He knew it was his fault you were feeling so bad, but your tired eyes and grabby hands at him made him smile.

“We need to get you changed, love.” He said quietly, going to his own trunk to pull out a sweater and pajama pants for you.

With his sweater and pajama pants in hand he got down to his knees in front of the bed where you sat and started to unbutton your coat. Once unbuttoned he helped you shrug it off, then helped shed all the other layers until you were in a thin t-shirt before pulling his sweater over your head. You moved to take off your bra but George muttered to let me, his hands sliding up under your shirt to unhook your bra, then letting you shimmy around to get your arms out before grabbing the undergarment and putting it in his trunk- he doesn’t need the boys coming in and seeing his girlfriends bra.

He then unbuttoned your jeans, slowly helping you pull them down your legs before replacing them with his own pajama pants.

“Stan for me for a moment.” He said, going to tie the drawstring in a neat bow to make sure the pants didn’t fall off of you.

“Thank you Georgie.” You smiled leaning into his chest.

“No problem, love. Let’s get you into bed.”

You shuffled onto the bed and situated yourself under the covers, looking up at George expectantly making him chuckle.

“You take a nap, I’m going to go get us food alright?”

“Ok.” You nodded, getting comfortable.

Before George was even out the room, you had fallen asleep, the day had taken a toll on you evidently. He smiled at your peaceful form, asleep in his bed, before carefully leaving the dorm to go grab some food for a late lunch.

George came back with the food fifteen minutes later, but he couldn’t find it in him to wake you up just yet. He waited around an hour before gently kissing your hairline to wake you up, but he grimaced at the unusual heat that your skin held.

When you woke, you felt fine, maybe a little lethargic, but fine. Usually asthma attacks didn’t take this much out of you but perhaps it was just because of how intense this one was and your head was still pounding.

You two quietly ate, George asking how you were every so often, you responding with a soft ‘alright’ before going back to the sandwich he brought. When the food was finished you crawled back into George’s bed, still feeling a bit sluggish but the food helped.

“Can you lay with me?”

George nearly awed audibly at how soft and small your voice was.

“Let me just change ok, bubs?”

You nodded, “Wear the cropped shirt please.”

George chuckled at your request but of course complied, pulling the shirt over his head and letting it fall just above his belly button. You smiled at the sight making him shake his head before pulling his own pajama pants on and climbing into bed next to you.

Hushed conversation started between the two of you. He was sitting up slightly with your head placed on his chest. As the sun went down and the other boys came back to the dorm, you let the melodic thump of George’s heartbeat lull you to sleep.

***

The night was a bit rough to say the least, George barely got any sleep due to his worrying about your wheezing. You didn’t usually wheeze when you slept, so it worried him. You on the other hand woke up with a stuffy nose, painfully dry cough, and achy muscles.

You were sick.

Even worse, it was Monday morning and you could not muster up the strength to get yourself dressed and to class. You had woken up first that morning, an aggressive cough pulling both you and George out of sleep. Once you the coughing fit had subsided you turned to look at George.

“I don’t think I can go to class today.” You pouted.

George pushed your hair out of your face as he answered, “Don’t worry about it, darling.” He placed an open palm on your forehead, “You’re burning up.”

Just as he had said it your body shivered before you erupted into another coughing fit.

“My thoughts exactly.” He smiled. “You are not leaving this bed today, and I’ve just gotten word that Dr. Weasley is in.”

You let out a raspy laugh, “You don’t have to miss class, I’ll survive.”

George shook his head, “Nope, I’m going straight to McGonagall to tell her that you are sick and I need to take care of you.”

He left before you could protest any further.

You turned around, getting comfortable again, and started to doze off before Fred piped up.

“I thought you two would never quite fucking yelling.” He groaned.

Lee responded for you, “Shut up you twat.”

***

George jogged to the transfiguration classroom still in his pajamas getting interesting looks from the people in the halls. He didn’t care though, not when his little love was sitting in his bed sniffly and sick waiting for his cuddles.

He made it to the classroom and pushed the door open, startling Professor McGonagall and the few students in the room.

“Mr. Weasley! You cannot just come stampeding into my ro- what in Merlin’s name are you wearing?”

George caught his breath before speaking, “Professor, Y/n is sick and she can't come to class and since she’s sick she obviously needs me to take care of her so I also cannot attend classes today.”

“Is Miss L/n alright?” McGonagall asked, now worried about the girl.

“It’s my fault, I took her out in the cold yesterday and her asthma acted up but now she’s also got a fever and she was wheezing all night.” George rambled, the guilt coming back.

His Professor put her hands out to stop his rambling and push him toward the door, “Alright, alright, you go take care of the poor girl, both of you are excused for today and tomorrow if it’s necessary. If it gets any worse take her straight to Madam Pomfrey, understood?”

George nodded and McGonagall continued, “And for Merlin's sake next time send someone else to come tell me, we do not need you strutting around the school in- in- whatever this is.”

She gestured toward George’s outfit making his ears turn pink, realizing just how many eyes are on him at the moment.

“Right, of course. Thank you.”

***

George made it back to his dorm just as Lee and Fred were stepping out to leave for their first class of the day. He offered them a quick good morning and ‘see you later’ before making his way to you. He found you asleep in bed and tucked the covers under your chin before sliding into bed with you, pulling you into his chest as he let sleep take over.

A few hours later he woke up to you already awake and reading a note, he assumed it was attached to one of the two bottles that had been placed on his bedside table sometime while he was asleep.

“Who’s that from?” He asked, sitting up and looking over the note.

“McGonagall, she sent up medicine.”

“How sweet of Minnie.” He smiled pulling himself out of bed, “Alright, let Dr. Weasley read it.”

You laughed, “Dr. Weasley?”

He nodded feigning shock, “Yes, Dr. Weasley, and I’m going to nurse you back to health.”

George plucked the note from you and read it over, taking in all the instructions on how and when to take the medication which he assumed were the two bottles.

The rest of the day passed with George waiting on you hand and foot, bringing up food, rubbing your back, cuddling you, you name it he did it. He also did it all in his cute little crop top that definitely helped speed up the process of your recovery.

Now as you lay in bed, George tilts your head up to place a gentle kiss on your lips but you stop him before he can.

“You’ll get sick.”

He chuckles, “I’ve been kissing on you, and cuddling with you all day. I’m going to get sick either way, pretty girl, so please let me kiss you on the lips at least once today.”

“Alright but we can’t tell anyone, I don’t think it’s very proper of me to be snogging my doctor.”

taglist:

@amourtentiaa

@hufflepuff5972

#george weasley imagine #George Weasley #george weasley headcanon #george weasley x reader #Harry Potter imagines

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endlich-allein · 3 years

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Promo "Rosenrot" (2005), Olivier Riedel and Till Lindemann — Interview by Phil Lageat and Olivier Rouhet, 05-09-2005 (Rock Hard #048)

Rock Hard : [...] At the time of interviewing Till Lindemann (vocals) and Oliver Riedel (bass) - Paul Landers and Christoph Schneider are also present, but answer other stores - several questions are bothering us... because we are worried. We start by taking news of the band, which recently canceled dates in Asia and South America.

Oliver Riedel : Till injured his knee during the concert in Gothenburg (Sweden) during a collision with Flake, hence the cancellation of the Asian dates. Then Flake caught a childhood illness. He is currently confined to a hospital bed with mumps. Not exactly dramatic, but he could only hear with one ear, which was rather annoying. So we had to postpone the South American dates. Nothing serious...

RH : The fact of recording in Berlin, and not abroad, as usual, in a short period of time, has put on the shoulders of the musicians an increased and useless pressure ?

Oliver : Yes, absolutely ! It's the first time we've recorded in Berlin, at home, and I'm not sure, looking back, that it was a good idea. Our families living nearby, we might tend to look at our watches whenever we had a break : What am I doing ? Do I take the opportunity to drop by home ? As a result, we were necessarily less focused and it was almost impossible for us to be there 100%.

Till Lindemann : More pressure ? Yes and no. Usually we like to work in a relaxed and mellow atmosphere, which we did when recording Reise Reise in Spain. In Berlin, it was quite different, because we worked 12 to 14 hours a day. And we did feel time pressures. It was a pretty intense creative process, which is why this album is quite special and out of the ordinary. I wouldn't say I'm proud of this record - it might be a bit too much - but I'm very happy with it nonetheless.

RH : [...] It seems that this extreme fatigue is not just physical. Admittedly, lately, they do a lot of albums and concerts, but we remember the tensions born during the gestation of Mutter. How can we not think, for a moment, that the Rammstein machine did not exhaust the friendship that bound the members of the group, to the point that they feel the occasional need to no longer see each other ? Have they learned to manage their friction in order to get off to a better restart ?

Oliver : It's true, I admit, we are washed out, burnt out. This is the reason why we are considering this prolonged hiatus... During the Mutter era, we did face some personal problems and we had to distance ourselves from each other. Then, we got closer and managed the conflicts that opposed us. Today, the atmosphere within the band is excellent, but we want to take this break to rest physically. In theory, we're looking at a hiatus of almost a year. But, who knows, maybe we'll meet beforehand to rehearse if the urge arises. And it is already planned that we meet to shoot two or three music videos which should illustrate the next singles of the album. To summarize, these three days of promotion, a few videos, and basta ! I love surfing and I am thinking of going around the beaches with my little van, just to see the country. Is it still possible that we go on vacation together ? (smile) No, I don't think so... Two or three of us, yes, but not the others.

RH : But let's stop complaining, and let's go back, along with Till, to his texts, often encrypted and regularly tackling “taboo” subjects (homosexuality in “Mann Gegen Mann”, our primary instincts in “Zerstören”, etc.)

Till : Journalists always want to know what is the deep meaning of my texts. Personally, I find it much more interesting that my words appeal to the imagination of listeners, that they interpret them in their own way. It is for this reason that I don't wish to submit my point of view : it would then be rehashed, no room would be left to the imagination. But back to "Rosenrot" : it is a very old word. "Reise, Reise", which dealt with the life of sailors, was also intended to be a reference to Herman Melville's novel, Moby Dick. Our choruses are always composed of simple words, but very strong, like "Sehnsucht" or "Du Hast". "Rosenrot" is color as a sign. With the Brothers Grimm, it is about a girl : in the song, the latter drops a rose from a cliff and asks her lover to go and get it back so that he can prove his love to her. But the unfortunate falls... and kills himself. Outside of Rammstein, I write collections of poems. It has nothing to do with writing song lyrics. It's not going to sound very serious, but I'm saying it anyway. Writing a poem is actually quite simple : you just have to drink a few good glasses of wine and let your imagination run wild (laughs). Writing the text of a song is much more difficult : your lyrics must stick with precise stanzas, a chorus, a metric that is imposed on you. And a guitarist just has to tell me "wait, I'm going to slip three more notes over here, so you need three more words!" And everything has to be redone... It may be that these three fucking words require me three months of work. Poetry is pure pleasure, the text of a song is real work.

RH : If there is one title that emerges from Rosenrot, it is the excellent "Te Quiro Puta", sung in Spanish. Does Till have a soft spot for South American music ? The answer may surprise :

Till : Not that I like a particular song, it's those popist salsa beats that go straight into the blood, that your body can't resist, that I like. What artists like Joachim Sabena and Manu Chao are doing is fantastic. The others like it less, but recently, in backstages, I was making them listen to Sonora Palacio, classical Chilean music, with trumpets and everything. And gradually, I ended up making them totally addicted... When will a song in French ??? Very soon, I hope ! (laughs)

#rockhard magazine special rammstein 2021 #rammstein in press #rammstein interview #rammstein #rosenrot album #oliver riedel #till is love 🖤#till lindemann #flake lorenz #paul landers #christoph schneider #richard kruspe

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calumxkisses · 3 years

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I Can’t Make You Love Me | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: angst (i’m sorry)

summary: part three of ‘Take My Breath Away’ (part 2 here)

a/n: hello everyone! here I am with part three! i made a promise, i know, and i honestly have no excuses for another angst part. in my defense, there’s going to be a last part, so we’ll see what is going to happen! please, let me know what you think about it and i hope this doesn’t disappoint your expectations. love you all! i also wanna say thank you to the anon who suggested the two songs, they were essential to the creation of this new part.

songs for this part: can’t make you love me ; whiskey and you ; i love you (choose your fighter)

♡♡♡

Calum was not used to believing in the signs of fate; of course, in everyday life, coincidences used to happen, but he had always stopped to call them that: coincidences. But maybe he was wrong, maybe there really were signs, and one of the certainties he had always carried with him was now crumbling.

First the fever: he hadn't been ill for years, a few colds every now and then, but never anything overly serious. Instead, this time he was hit with a bad flu, one that leads you to take too many medications to say "I'm fine" and that leads you to spend three weeks in bed. Three weeks, right around the time the wedding was planned.

Then, the wedding dress was lost. It was made by a stylist, his girlfriend's favorite, and it came straight from France. She had gone to choose it, try it out, customize it, and then never receive it. Apparently, someone had stolen it and they had to postpone the wedding: her grandmother wanted to give her the dress of her dreams (“After all, you only get married once in a lifetime!” The old lady's said) and so they had been forced to make another one from scratch, postponing the wedding.

And then the wedding rings had come in the wrong size, the church had been booked by another couple, everything seemed to prevent the couple from getting married.

She was exhausted, but she was still convinced to marry him.

Calum, however, was starting to think again: Michael had told him it was normal to feel stressed and unsure about the wedding before the big day, but he knew there was so much more. Or much less, when viewed from a different point of view. Something wasn't right and he had noticed it more and more.

The truth is, things haven't been going well for a while. The relationship was beautiful, spectacular from the outside, but in his dreams, things were different; he felt it, tried to reject those thoughts, but it wasn't easy.

So Luke had decided to throw him a party. A small party, without too many guests, to try to calm the bassist's nerves. He had invited their old group, the friends with whom they had been in the mountains to celebrate several New Years, with whom they had traveled to Bali more times than they wanted to admit and with whom he had spent happy moments. He wanted to remind him that despite everything, despite the new life that was about to begin, they would be there, by his side, ready to live this new adventure with him.

Calum absolutely didn't want to go to the party. He was obviously grateful to his friends for everything they had and were doing for him, but the only thing he wanted to do was stay home, under the covers, waiting for this to pass quickly and for it to finally be his turn to be happy. He was happy, but it didn't seem like the right happiness, he was experiencing someone's happiness. Of an old version of himself, probably.. but when had all this changed?

It was a question he had often been asking himself lately, usually accompanied by a few glasses of Whiskey. He did not even like that Jack Daniel's, but it seemed the ideal solution when all the weight of the world seemed to rest on his shoulders, giving him a very strong headache, accompanied by the thousands of doubts that assailed him every day.

But she was always there, ready to close the bottle of alcohol and embrace all his insecurities, accompanying him to bed and hugging him in the dark of the night. She was an angel, and Calum knew it, she was ready to help him whenever he fell.

The room was crowded, although only few people showed up for the party. The place had been decorated with small colored lights, a recurring decoration at their parties, and on the tables there were all kinds of snacks: chips, popcorn, candies, pizza, any food that could have become a craving created by the alcohol.

The music played pop and rock hits, great classics that would please any music lover and that would be the ideal base for any type of dance that occupied the floor.

The girls were by the window, a beer pong table divided them into two teams, and little laughter spread throughout the room with each missed basket.

His girlfriend was talking with her friends while sipping sub-branded beer at every point of the other team, a smile was on her face as she told everyone about the different ideas she had for the ceremony.

Ashton and the others were a few feet away, their bodies forming a small circle, everyone seemed to be having a good evening commenting new albums and laughing at old jokes and moments spent together.

Calum didn’t belong to either group, he was on the sidelines of all the others, with a glass of alcohol in his hand, with his body in that room and his mind in a completely different universe. He was not in the mood, he was tired, he kept repeating to anyone who asked him the reason for this behavior and no one suspected anything or investigated in depth, because everyone knew that the preparations for a wedding were not easy, that having just released an album and preparing for a new life was tiring. Everyone understood and left him there, keeping him company only occasionally, when his eyes closed or became too glossy.

He was happy and he was really tired. Things had not gone according to plan and everything seems to be more difficult than he expected. He knew it, and he didn't blame himself for it. Everything would be fine, he would be happy and this would be the last climb before a big view. He would marry a beautiful woman, raise a family, all while pursuing his dream as a musician. Everything would be perfect, fine.

“What are you doing all alone here, loser?” A voice said at his side, a voice he hadn't heard in a long, long time, and that had missed like water in a desert. A familiar voice, which would have saved him from every bad thing.

Luke had called you just a few days before, finding you had been difficult given your continuous travels, but he knew that your presence was essential and he would have traveled the whole world to find you, pick you up and take you there. And not only because the curly-haired boy needed it, but because everyone missed you, because the concerts were no longer the same without you waiting for them with pizza and compliments for all of them.

Ashton had met you a few months earlier for a coffee in San Francisco because your absence had become painful for him too, he who was used to talking to you on the balcony of some hotel, under the sky of any city was hosting them.

You left, everyone knew you were going to, and no one had tried to stop you. You needed it. You were broken, you no longer had a certain future and you needed to find yourself, your peace, your happiness.

You didn’t know where you would find these things, so you decided to travel the world with the money you had saved and in the end you were able to find serenity, returning to yourself and the world no longer scared you.

You had missed Calum deeply and there had been so many times where you had found yourself with your cell phone in front of your eyes, with his contact on the screen, ready to call him.

And it had happened a couple of times, as the sun was rising where you were and setting where he was, and he had answered you, reassuring you that everything was going well. And you told him about the beautiful places you were visiting, about the cultures you were getting to know, and you found yourself laughing at the foods he would have never tried, but that you swore he would have loved.

Despite everything, as he promised you, he remained by your side and cared for you and that helped you to move forward. You still felt so much for him, and part of you would always love the boy with the pink mug and messy hair, but maybe now something had changed. Now your heart no longer hurted so much at the thought of a future without him by your side, and you really felt happiness when you thought about their wedding.

Sure, occasionally a few tears still fell, but the important thing was that you and Calum would be happy, even if not together.

“Doll.” It was the only thing he was able to say before hugging you tightly, with a huge smile on his face and his heart ready to explode with happiness.

And you knew that that 'doll' was worth more than the memory hidden behind the word, your badly done Halloween dress and the piece of paper stuck to your chest with your disguise written on it to help others understand.

That 'doll' carried with it all the moments you hadn't spent together, all the movies you hadn't seen together on the sofa, all the moonlit walks with Duke, every Sunday at your family brunches - the family you created with all your friends, which hasn't been the same since you left.

Calum broke away from the hug and his eyes were wet, not from the hours spent awake at night but from the emotion he was feeling in seeing you. And all of a sudden, the room was empty and your presence was the only one that mattered.

Your hair had been cut to help your new start, but it had grown back and your skin sparkled like your eyes, full of life and happiness.

You were simply gorgeous, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. And beautiful not only for your appearance, but for the light you radiated. You had brought back the light into his darkness and there was nothing he had needed more.

On the other hand, you couldn't say the same. Of course, he was as beautiful as the sun and that hadn't changed, but that sun wasn't shining anymore. His eyes were dull, his dark circles were darker and his face looked paler. His body no longer gave off joy, but it was just there, a normal body.

But you loved him all the same, because he was your Calum and you knew that it happened every now and then, that his world got darker, that his happiness was rarer, and you knew that you would do anything to make him feel better, to show him how much beautiful the world was thanks to his presence.

Because the world was a better place with Calum Hood in it.

“How are things going?” you asked, although you already knew the answer. Michael used to send you messages in which he updated you on their life without you and among the thousand news, he never forgot to tell you about Calum, how his life was progressing and how marriage was destroying him before he even got married.

“Harder than I thought, honestly. I'm a little stressed out, that's all.” He lied. You knew he was lying and he knew you knew, but that meant he didn't feel like talking about it right now, and that was okay. You didn't want to force him, he would open up when he felt the need and you would be there, because there was no reason to run away again.

“You stressed out? I would have never said that. You usually never take anything seriously.” You said giggling and giving him a friendly pat on the arm. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat.

“How are you instead?” He asked softly, ready to hear you talk again for hours, never getting tired of your voice. A voice that had become a habit over time, which in the darkest nights he heard repeatedly listening to the voice messages you left him.

“I'm fine, honestly. I liked Thailand a lot, it's really special. In the hotel in Bangkok there was a little black elephant walking around and I think I spent half my vacation petting it and the Thai culture is so beautiful, Calum! And Santorini, what a dream! I’m pretty sure that’s how heaven looks like.”

You kept talking, remembering the Asian sun on your skin and the taste of Greek sea water. It was a dream to be able to travel, visit places and cultures that you had imagined since childhood, totally different from what you were used to. You had missed not having someone by your side in exploring these wonders, but traveling alone had helped you, it had made you a different woman. And there would still have been the opportunity to return in the future, accompanied by anyone who wanted to have an adventure with you.

Calum paid attention to all the words that came out of your mouth, noticing the happiness in your eyes in remembering everything you had experienced. You had been happy, the broken heart had been replaced by so much joy.

He was really happy for you but, selfishly, he longed to see you again with a broken heart, because it would mean that you still loved him.

But Calum was careful to chase away certain thoughts from his head, after all it was he who didn't stop you, it was he who let you go because you needed it, because he broke your heart and you couldn't look for help in him.

“There is this pizzeria in Naples that makes the best pizza in the world, you should try it. Nothing compared to that kind of pizza we used to order during our Friday nights, it’s way better. And Rome by night is magical. I threw a coin in the Trevi fountain, you know? I know we don't believe in these things, but I wanted to make a wish anyway, you never know that magic really exists.”

Your voice kept repeating itself in his ears and while you joyfully told him about the wonderful places you had visited, Calum could do nothing but listen to you and imagine himself there with you, admiring the Italian sea of Naples and dancing in front of the Colosseum at night, away from the prying eyes of people, on the melodies of some street artist. There was nothing he wanted more than being there with you, away from all those lies that surrounded him.

And as soon as he heard the sound of your laughter, his heart expanded and Calum knew that nothing was going right because what was missing was you. It was you who filled his days, who made sure that the sun shone even on rainy days, which made the stars jealous of so much brilliance.

It was you who took the joy out of his life as soon as you turned the corner of that old building that long-gone night of his birthday. That January 25 night he had not only lost his best friend, but he had lost what made him choose life above all his negative thoughts.

As you told him about your adventures, you were careful to tell him only the happy moments, so that he didn't know about the bad days. But the truth was that everything hadn't gone so well and more than once you found yourself at the airport, ready to take the first plane to go back to him.

There had been many days in which you were locked in your hotel room, hidden under the covers, crying over the loneliness that would accompany you.

You had spent sleepless nights imagining him in his tuxedo, with his hair tidy - as far as possible - and with his usual spectacular smile on his face, on the altar of a church or on a beach of Balì, the same beach where he was lying next to you to observe the stormy sea, holding you tightly while reassuring you that you would be fine.

And then the dream would become a nightmare, and instead of seeing you in the white dress, you saw her, shining in her wedding dress, approaching him with her makeup smeared with tears of joy, ready to promise him an eternity of love.

And you were there, sitting on some distant bench or standing at the back of the church, helpless while losing your soul mate.

At the end of your travel, you hadn't visited France. You refused to visit the Tourre Effeil, to walk along the banks of the Seine and to lose yourself in the architecture of Notre Damè. Paris was your dream since you were little, you spent entire afternoons planning your vacation in the French capital and at the age of 13 you promised yourself that you would visit Paris only with your soulmate, only with the one that would have treated you like a queen and that would have loved you like in fairy tales.

And despite growing up, you wanted to keep the promise made to your little, innocent you. And so Paris was left out and you thought it would be forever, because the only person who could make thirteen-year-old you proud was in love with someone else.

Then the words ended and as the stereo played Queen songs, your eyes were lost in his. The outside noises seemed to belong to a different space and the world really seemed to revolve around you and Calum. There was no one left but you two, lost in each other's minds. Your hearts had stopped beating, there were only two separate souls, ready to intertwine together. There was no longer just Calum or just you, there was you, together. Something was different, right.

Nothing mattered anymore and even the eyes of the boy in front of you seemed to have regained their brightness.

His hand stroked your face, gently bringing the wisps of hair on your face behind your ear, his touch was reassuring and you closed your eyes for a brief moment.

Calum took a step forward and you didn't move, his free hand took yours in his and you didn't pull it back, his gaze moved to your lips and yours to his, and neither of you moved. Neither of you wanted to leave, too caught up in the moment.

“Hey, I didn't know you were coming!” A soft voice said behind you, and the bubble created by you and Calum burst. You moved away, your hearts beating again. She was there, next to him, neither of you had noticed her coming, but her presence could no longer go unnoticed. It wouldn't have been fair.

In the end, he had chosen her. His heart was beating for another girl, whether you liked it or not. His feelings were for her and it was okay, it had to be okay. You didn't go around the world for nothing. Your heart was broken, but now it was healed. Things had to stay that way.

You were happy like that.

“How are you doing?” She asked in her sweet voice. Her arm intertwined with the boy's and her eyes were watching you intently, interested in what your answer would be. She was so kind, so innocent, and for no reason was she jealous of you. She was perfect.

“Good! Ready to go back to everyday life, you?” You answered smiling at her. There was no way to hate her, you couldn't. You could envy her, sure, but in no way could you hate her. There was no reason to.

“A little stressed out but I can't wait to get married. It was more difficult than expected but my dream is coming true, you know? I'm not giving up now.” A laugh escaped her lips and joy was visible on her face.

You smiled and looked at Calum quickly, making sure he was still there. His body was mainly turned towards her but his gaze was on you.

He would have never left you anymore, He had lost you once and he wanted to make sure that that would never happen again. An awareness was making its way into his body, his mind was realizing that something, someone was wrong.

Things were about to change, someone would suffer but someone else was going to be happy forever. Things would no longer stay that way. It was time for things to go in the right way and he knew it.

It had been your laugh, your presence or maybe even your absence, but Calum finally understood.

What he didn't know, though, was that yes, things were about to change, but not for the better. He would be the one to suffer this time.

“Wait, is that a ring I see on your finger?” The girl said pointing to your left hand and making a little cry of joy. Your gaze shifted to the ring that now occupied your finger, a small smile formed on your face but your heart didn't seem to reciprocate the feeling. The gaze of the boy was now pointed at your hand.

Something changed.

In Tokyo, precisely, an angel had come down from heaven and stretched out his hand to you. And the sun was shining again, the cherry trees were filled with flowers and life was less disgusting. Your heart was full and not even the return trip could make your mood worse, because you were not alone anymore. The days were full of color again and the world no longer seemed black and white. Your future was full of hope, love, happiness. And you wouldn't have been hurt anymore, maybe, for a while.

A stranger had suddenly arrived in your life, with a happy smile and open arms, ready to pick up all your pieces and show you that you were worth it. He had made you see that everything would turn out for the best, ending up filling your heart with joy and love. It had been sudden, like Calum's proposal, but this surprise had been positive.

Then he had given you a ring, a promise ring, not for a wedding - it was too early, although the feelings were growing fast - but to promise you that he would be there, as long as there was a chance. That he wouldn't hurt you and that he would take care of you. That he would love you, whatever love is. He promised you that everything would be fine.

“Yes, it's a promise ring.” You smiled thinking about it. You were happy, right? Yes, you were. You were happy, you had to be. Someone was loving you. Still, there was something different, but this wasn't the right time to think about it, after all, you still had to get used to this big change.

Of course, the feelings for the guy in front of you would always remain, for years you were convinced that he was your soulmate, but things had gone differently. And it didn't have to be a bad thing. Finally you would be happy, not together, but still side by side. There was no more reason to run away, you could continue being friends now, without excessive feelings or broken hearts.

Calum's world, however, had collapsed. It had rolled over, traveled at the speed of light and collided with his biggest fear, and it was destroyed. Not to mention his heart, reduced to thousands of bits that not even the strongest glue would be able to reattach together. His chest really hurted, as did his stomach and head, and the flu from several months ago seemed nothing in comparison. Even the mornings when he woke up with a hangover didn't hurt that much, because that pain passed. This, however, would never pass.

Calum was in love with you. Deeply, with all of himself. He didn't want to admit it at first,it would have caused a huge disaster, but he couldn't keep lying to himself, it wouldn't do him any good.

Sure, he had feelings for his girlfriend, but it wasn't you. And he had noticed it. He used to believe that the strong affection he felt towards you was just affection, but the months in your absence had been devastating, and it wasn't normal. He wouldn't have suffered so much for a mutual friend, but for you it was different.

He loved you, and how deeply he loved you. Just a few minutes before he was ready to kiss you, no guilt assaulting him and he was ready to throw away months of wedding preparations for you.

It was you now, however, who no longer loved him. And the pain he felt was probably what you had felt over a year ago when it broke your heart. It was his fault, however, that he had come too late to a conclusion that everyone had come before.

He loved you, but you loved another, and Calum knew there was nothing more to be done now.

You would have remained friends, sure, but things would definitely change now. Before, at least, there was a chance to go back. He would not get married and his kitchen would be filled with the smell of biscuits again, accompanied by the scattered flour and your dirty clothes, victims of food wars and laughs.

But now you too were engaging with another person and those moments seemed to drift further away and to belong to a distant, unattainable, unique past.

And while you and his fiancée - a name that no longer made him smile - happily talked about your news, Calum thought there was nothing more to be done.

He could have pulled back, but for what purpose? To spend a life alone? Maybe, one day his heart would start beating again for what would become his wife and in the meantime he would give her joy, because she deserved it. She would take care of him and he wouldn't spend sleepless nights in bed alone.

So Calum drank what was left in his glass in one gulp and apologizing to th two of you, he went over to the drink table and opened a new bottle. And as the alcohol dripped into his glass, tears streamed down his face, mixing with the drink he held in his hand. He didn't even bother wiping them, he was with his back to people and away from anyone who could see him, and he just stood there for a moment, hating himself and hating you, for being so damn beautiful and in love with another, for making his heart beating again just to break it,but the truth was that there was no way he could hate you.

He loved you too much and he was ready to sacrifice everything to see you happy, even himself.

“It’s gonna get better, mate.” Someone softly whispered behind him before hugging him.

Ashton had witnessed everything from afar, had seen his friends in love, ready to conquer the world together, and then he had seen them hurt themselves, destroy their happiness for each other, unaware that there was no reason to do so. And even his heart ached.

Calum continued to cry, trying not to attract attention and letting himself be held by his best friend.

Was everything really going to be better?

-----

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #calum thomas hood #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos #calum hood angst #calum hood x y/n #calum hood x you #calum hood x reader #calum imagine #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos angst #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer imagines #angst

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love101imagines · 4 years

Text

Pretty little secret

(sinan & ışik | imagine)

Request: Could you write an imagine about Sinan & Isik? Either with nr 7 or 30 from the prompt list.

Prompts used: 7. You’re jealous, aren’t you? 30. I’m pregnant.

requested by: @l0ve1o1

a/n: You can’t imagine how much I have thought about the two with a baby !! Please request more things similar. I also made the gif 💓

She could feel her head spinning so much she wasn’t sure if she was going to faint, throw up or both. The room seemed dizzy and her hands shook as she silently told herself to calm down.

“Işik, you look very pale. Are you alright?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Kemal froze in the spot. He knew that the teenager had only turned 18 a few weeks ago (she was still a child) and that she was in a relationship with a boy who, even though he had a good heart, had already problems with alcohol.

“Have you told Sinan yet?” He asked handing her a cup of tea he had made when Işik arrived concerned at his apartment.

“No one has seen him since last week. I thought maybe you knew where he could be.”

He furrowed his brows. He was never good with teenagers, and he knew the magnitude of the situation. But there wasn’t anything he could do to help. He tried not to make it worse than it already was.

“I haven’t seen him either, I heard the teachers saying that finally he had left for good.” That wasn’t a good answer as the girl’s mood seems to sadden even more than before, so he acted quick. “But what about your friends? Have you told them about...this? Maybe they have seen him.”

She took a deep breath as the memories she had though about over and over again came back to her. “We don’t talk anymore. We had a fight and Eda already left for college, I haven’t seen Osman in school either and Kerem is hanging out with boys who scare me. But no one has seen him and I don’t know what to do. You are the only one who may know where Sinan is, but he just disappeared without saying goodbye.”

And all because of that fight.

It had to be a stomach bug. It couldn’t be anything else, right?

Those were the only things Işik had in her mind as she continued to throw up in the school’s bathroom. She took a gulp of water from the sink and washed her hands and face before heading to class.

She made it just in time walking before miss Ayşe and headed straight to her desk, avoiding the staring of her classmates. Sinan was already there reading a book which he put down the second Işik sat down.

“You were almost late.” He stated.

She avoid his gaze by doing another task, which consisted in taking out her notebook and pencil case. “I had to talk with Mr. Kerif about my grade on his last assignment and explain to him why I found it unfair. I got a bit carried away.” She spoke fast.

He didn’t think much about it and only rubbed his eyes. “You worry too much.”

The lesson carried on but she still felt something in the fit of her stomach. She was worrying too much, just like Sinan said. She had to focus on the lesson or something else. Behind her Eda was doodling in her desk, Osman played with his tie, Kerem seemed also lost on his thoughts and Sinan did his best to stay awake and write down a few notes.

Işik felt dizzy all of the sudden. Luckily for her, the lesson finished with the ring of the bell and she was the first out of the door headed straight for the bathroom, leaving her friends behind with a confused stare.

“What happened to her?” Osman asked nearing Sinan as the others did the same.

“Is she sick?” Kerem said .

“Did you do something to her? She told me that...” Eda started angrily before Sinan interrupted them.

“You can stop interrogating me, I don’t know anything.” He said picking up his bag. On another occasion he would just leave, but now he seemed concerned too. “She seemed off this morning.”

Eda only rolled her eyes before muttering “shit” and going the same way Işik had before. Once she reached the bathroom, Işik was with her head between her hands walking from one side of the bathroom to the other.

“What’s wrong?” Eda asked.

A few girls were staring at them and after she gave them a nasty look they left leaving the two girls alone.

“I don’t know. It started yesterday, the nausea, not being able to keep down my breakfast.” She stopped abruptly and took a deep breath.

Eda furrowed her brows. “Didn’t you go to Sinan’s house for your birthday and...”

“Eda!” Işik said irritated with wide eyes. “Do you want the whole school to find out?” She whispered.

The brown haired girl only rolled her eyes. “Come on, it wasn’t your first time together. Don’t be such a prude.”

Işik grabbed her bag from the floor. She felt better than before now that her stomach was empty, but she felt the crave of something sweet.

“We were supposed to celebrate my birthday. You were too drunk Kerem had to leave you on your doorstep and Osman had a family emergency.” She said walking down the hall with Eda next to her.

“Well, better for Sinan, right?” Eda replied with a smirk.

Işik only sighed. Eda continued walking until she noticed Işik had stopped a few steps before her. She was about to urge her to stop acting so weird but it didn’t seem like the right thing to do, since her friend seemed too concerned.

“Eda...you don’t think I’m...?” She started.

“No.” She quickly interrupted her wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “It’s probably that you ate a shitty breakfast today or you felt sick after seeing Necdet’s face.”

Işik still didn’t seem convinced, so Eda took a breath and stopped just before they went out into the courtyard where the boys where waiting for her.

“If you aren’t sure you can buy three tests and see how they come out. I’m sure it’s nothing. Did you use a...”

“Yes, we did.” She whispered seeing if someone had heard them. “Can you come with me to the pharmacy? I don’t want to go alone, I’m too nervous.”

Eda bit her lip uncomfortably. “I’m sorry but I can’t. My parents want me to talk about college and I have already postponed it too much. But, don’t worry! I’ll tell Kerem to go with you and not ask you why.”

Işik nodded unsure. “Thanks.”

Both girls went out into the school yard where the boys were waiting for her. After telling them that she was ill and eating a hazelnut from Osman, Işik did her best to hide her discomfort. However, Sinan could see through it but still wasn’t sure what was wrong. Only one possibility crossed his mind, and it wasn’t a good one.

After school, his suspicions grew. He had gym so he had to stay at school but he was able to see his girlfriend leave with Kerem, acting nervously and him listening closely.

“So you think you might be pregnant?” He asked and she nodded facing the ground. “Who’s the father?” Kerem said after they walked for a while to a pharmacy.

“Kerem! Do you think I would cheat on Sinan?” She said with her high pitch voice.

Even though he was taller than her by almost two heads, he panicked. “Of course not! I mean we all expected you two to date for a few more years, but no to be parents”

She sighed and hung her head low, a million thoughts crossing her mind.

“But it’s fine. We’ll help you, and Sinan would never leave you. Besides, you would be a great mother.”

Işik smiled a bit. Sure, she was panicking inside but she knew deep down that she could count on Sinan and her friends.

And now there she was, on Sinan’s living room with three positive tests on her bag pack she hadn’t seen yet the result. They were both doing homework, but the silence between both of them seemed off. She decided to break it, trying to prepare for what would change their lives.

“Have you received any reply from the colleges you applied?”

Sinan took a sip from his hip flask and grabbed a few letters from his bag which he left in the table. Işik eyed him warily and started reading one of them.

“Sinan, this is great news! Why didn’t you tell us?” She asked with a bright smile.

That smile. That damn smile which he loved now only made him snap.

“Probably because you were too focused on going behind my back.” He said standing up with anger.

Işik only stared at him confused. “Going behind your back? What are you talking about? I don’t understand Sinan.”

The whole situation was too much for her. It remembered her to that time they argued over her giving him her test and risking her grade. Only this time, she wasn’t going to sit down and cry quietly. She got up and crossed her arms.

“Why were you acting so weird today?”

She shrugged acting like it was obvious. “I told you, I wasn’t feeling well today. I had a big breakfast and it made me sick.”

She made her towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water since she was nervous and she didn’t want to tell him yet why she felt sick. She didn’t want Sinan to freak out more than he was now and she didn’t feel it was the right thing to do in the middle of a fight.

Sinan was faster than her and grabbed her by her arm before she could leave.

“Sinan! It’s the truth, I’m not lying to you.” She said exasperated.

“I saw you with Kerem.”

That threw her off but she still didn’t want him to found out the real reason why they both went to the pharmacy. “We’re friends. You and Osman had gym and I needed a ride. Eda couldn’t come with us and he’s the only one with a car.”

He still seemed not convinced. “Are friends that close to each other? Even when both of them are in relationships?”

It all came to her like someone had dropped a bucket of water. She couldn’t believe it. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer but let go off her arm. Işik stared at him as he took a big gulp of his flask until there wasn’t any liquid left and he dropped it to the floor.

She took her bag and paused. Sinan was sitting on the couch staring at the floor but she knew she had to give him some time.

“Let’s talk tomorrow when you are sober.”

Sinan didn’t reply with one of his sarcastic comments and she left. A few blocks away she opened her bag to grab her scarf, three positive pregnancy tests fell. She dropped to her knees to see them and for the first time that day, she didn’t feel sick.

She had meant to tell Sinan, but then that fight happened and the group broke up completely, and in the rush of them not being friends anymore, she didn’t notice Sinan moving out of his house and leaving entirely. She didn’t have anyone else to help and was alone now.

“Do you know what you’re going to do? What about your parents? Have you told them?”

Işik left her cup of tea on the table in front of her before answering her teacher. “I’m leaving for college to Trabzon and my parents already rented an apartment for me. They aren’t talking to me at the moment but...I’m going to keep it, I’ve already made my mind.”

He wasn’t sure what to say so she got up slowly.

“Well then, congratulations. I know you will be able to do it and if any news of Sinan come around I’ll let you know. Burcu lives in Trabzon, I’ll write you down her address and number.” He said before scribbling it down on a paper.

A few weeks later, she was on her apartment clutching her small, almost inexistent, baby bump. She lived relatively close to Burcu so she visited the teenager quite often, even though she was still surprised of her condition but willing to help.

She found a job as a waitress and managed to buy a few things to make her apartment as kid friendly as possible. It wasn’t that big but it was enough for two people. After a while, her parents started answering back her calls and even visited her giving Işik some money. She got through school with the best grades and even though many students and even some teachers stared at her, a few were supportive.

And just when she finished her first year in college, she gave birth to a healthy boy holding a nurse’s hand. She named him Cevdet and gave him her last name. After the delivery her parents and Burcu visited her at the hospital with presents and she knew she was ready to take care of him, without Sinan but with their help.

Three years later, she was doing well balancing school, work and raising a child when she answered her door to Burcu, Eda and the father of her child.

#love 101 #love101 #ask 101 #burcu #eda #kerem #osman #sinan #sinanxişık #ışik #aşk 101 imagine #aşk101imagine #aşk 101 #aşk101 #love 101 imagine #love101imagine

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fangzeronos · 4 years

Text

What You Leave Behind

I’ve lived a good life.

That was the thought running through the Fire Lady’s mind as she laid in her bed in the Fire Nation Palace. Her whole life was dedicated to defending others, whether she was on Kyoshi Island, the Fire Nation, or Ba Sing Se. Suki knew the ramifications of her dedication to so many titles and places would be long lasting, and she hoped for the best. From leading the Kyoshi Warriors, being Zuko’s Captain of the Guard after his father’s defeat, and becoming Fire Lady, a title she held most dear for thirty years, Suki knew her life was good. She felt her daughter’s hand in hers, and she squeeze softly, trying to give Izumi strength.

Izumi sat on the bed with her mother, Suki’s hand in hers. Tears flowed down the young woman’s face, impending dread in her heart. She knew her mother’s time was soon, as much as it pained the young heiress to the throne. Izumi looked around the room, seeing her mother’s friends and family from all of her travels around the world.

Aang sat beside the wall, his airbending tattoos glowing as he meditated, trying to search the Spirit World for answers or anything that could help his longtime friend. He’d been in the Spirit World four days, the ethereal glow of his tattoos the only light in the room in the darker nights.

Katara stood beside the bed, occasionally using her waterbending to try and soothe Suki’s pain, healing what aches she could to make her friend more comfortable. It hurt her knowing that with all of her knowledge, she couldn’t find a cure for the woman she thought of as a sister. She’d worked with the Royal Family’s healers, looking over Suki’s medical records to try and find anything that could help, but to no avail.

Sokka sat beside Katara, his hand on Suki’s free one. It had been decades since they’d been together, but she still held a special place in his heart. He squeezed her hand lightly, trying to give her his strength. It broke his heart knowing he couldn’t help her. All the Chief of the Water Tribe could think about was how many wasted years there had been when they were together, things unsaid and unspoken but clearly known. Sokka’s mind was filled with regret and nervousness, knowing what was coming.

Azula, despite not being near the top of Suki’s favorite people, stood behind her husband, her hand on his shoulder and rubbing softly, trying to give Sokka some comfort. She knew where his heart was, and when they’d received the letter from Zuko saying Suki was ill, it was her that planned the trip and packed, knowing Sokka’s emotions wouldn’t let him think. In all the years since their first encounter, there had grown a respect between the two, something Azula, even as she grew older, would miss in the end.

Near the foot of the bed, Toph sat cross-legged in a chair, feet tucked up underneath herself. She couldn’t bear to feel Suki’s heartbeat getting slower and slower, unwilling to feel it in the ground. As much as she’d bickered with Suki in the past, she’d come to admire the other woman, and for the former Blind Bandit, it was a rare friendship she still treasured.

Ty Lee stood beside the door, a new generation of Kyoshi Warriors standing guard outside. As the former captain of the Warriors, Ty Lee was probably the closest to Suki other than Zuko, and it broke her heart to see her friend and sister laying in bed, death slowly creeping up. She first knew something was wrong when Suki’s aura had gone from strong and green to dim and grey. She’d convinced Suki to see the healers, sitting with her while her diagnosis was given.

“Where’s ZuZu?” Azula asked softly, breaking the silence in the room for the first time in over thirty hours. “He should be here.”

Izumi sighed softly, looking over at her aunt. “He had an emergency to deal with in the Council chamber. Daddy said he’d be back as soon as he could, Aunt Azula,” she said.

Katara bit her lip, looking at Izumi. “Well…maybe someone should go get him,” she said softly. She looked over at Izumi. “Izumi, there isn’t much time, honey.”

“I’ll get him,” Toph said, putting her feet on the floor and doing her best to ignore the feeling coming from the bed. “I’ll get him and drag him down here by his nose if I have to.”

“No, Toph,” Suki whispered, opening her eyes softly and coughing. “Don’t…don’t hurt him. Please…” She tried to sit up, Katara holding her down softly. “Katara—”

“No. You need to stay laying down,” Katara said softly, rubbing Suki’s shoulder.

“Please, Suki,” Sokka said softly, his voice breaking.

Suki looked over to her left, seeing Sokka and smiling softly, the smile marred by the pain in her entire body. “Sokka…you’re here…”

“Course I am,” Sokka said with a sad smile. “You wanted me here.”

“Did I…? I’m sorry, everyone…my memory isn’t…”

“It’s ok,” Izumi said, squeezing her mother’s hand softly. “Toph, please go get my father. And hurry.”

Toph saluted lightly. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, turning and walking out of the room. She felt someone behind her, stopping and folding her arms. “Y’know, Azula, I can find him myself.”

“I know, but…maybe if we’re both there, he’ll move faster,” Azula said with a small smile. “Come on, Chief.” She started forward, leading Toph through the palace before making their way to the council chambers.

Pushing the door open, Azula looked around at the council members, Lu Bai’s jaw hanging open, the older woman clearly speaking. “Lady Azula, Chief BeiFong” the councilwoman said, blinking and standing straight. “What can we do for you?”

“I need my brother,” Azula said. “Now.”

Zuko looked over, stepping away from the table. “Azula, Toph? What’s happened? Is Suki--?”

“Not yet, Zuko,” Toph said, reaching forward before feeling Zuko take her hand. “But…Katara says there’s not long. We need you back. Please.”

Zuko shook his head. “I have to see this through. The uprising could—”

“Damn the uprising,” Azula said, grabbing her brother by the front of his robes. “Your wife is dying. You’re down here playing politician rather then being with her on her deathbed, ZuZu. Get your ass in gear, get upstairs. Now!”

“Fire Lord, we can…postpone this for a day or two. Decisions don’t need to be reached right now,” one of the councilmen said.

Zuko sighed, nodding softly. “Thank you, Hung,” he said softly. He turned and faced his sister and Toph. “Alright…let’s go.”

The three walked out and headed back upstairs, Zuko feeling like every corridor was a thousand miles long, each step feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. He couldn’t breathe, and the thought of losing Suki was overwhelming. He’d already lost Ursa and Iroh. He didn’t know if he could survive losing Suki.

“I know everyone will be here when I need them, but…it hurts so much seeing her in the state she is when six months ago she was up kicking my ass in a spar. She’s been there through everything, and I…I don’t know that I can do this.” he thought, looking up as they stopped outside of his room.

“Go,” Azula said softly, putting her hand on her brother’s back. She pushed the door open, seeing it stop and Ty Lee peek her head around the corner.

“Zuko,” the normally overly cheerful woman said, hugging him as he walked in.

“Hi, Ty,” Zuko whispered, hugging her back before moving toward the bed. “Zumi.”

“Daddy,” Izumi said softly, hugging her father tightly and kissing his cheek. “Aunt Katara says there’s not much time…”

Zuko nodded softly, sitting on the bed before rubbing Suki’s arm. “Hey, beautiful.”

Suki smiled weakly, turning her hand over and taking Zuko’s, their fingers lacing together slowly. “Hi…” she said softly. “Where’ve you been, Zuko?”

“Dealing with a possible uprising,” Zuko said. “Nothing to worry about right now.” He kissed Suki’s hand, reaching up and moving some of her hair out of her eyes. “What matters is that I’m where I need to be now.” He smiled softly, feeling Suki squeeze his hand softly.

“Good,” she whispered. “Zuko…please don’t mourn me forever. I love you, and I know how you are. You still mourn Ursa and Iroh all the time. Don’t let my passing be the reason you shut everyone out. They’ll all need you as much as you’ll need them, love. Promise me that.”

Zuko sighed softly, biting his lip. He nodded softly, rubbing Suki’s hand. “I promise, honey,” he said. “I promise.”

“Good,” Suki said with a soft smiled. “Izumi…my darling little turtle-duck. Take care of your father. He’ll need you more than ever now, sweetheart.”

“Ok, Mama,” Izumi said, sniffling softly and nodding. “I promise.”

Suki nodded and smiled, looking at Sokka. “Take care of all of them, Sokka. Please…” she said. “They’ll all need you to be the pillar you always have been.”

Sokka nodded softly, tears falling down his face slowly. “I promise, Suke. I’ll do my best.”

Suki smiled, laying her head back against the pillow as her eyes closed. She felt loved, surrounded by the people she loved more then anything in the world. “Zuko…did I have a good life?”

“You had an amazing life, Suki,” Zuko said softly, tears stinging his eyes. “You had a wonderful life. I wouldn’t trade any of our days for anything.”

Suki felt the tears falling down her cheeks, and she smiled contently. “Neither would I…” she whispered, her head lilting to the side softly. Her chest rose and lowered for a few seconds more before she took her last breath, a smile on her face.

Toph, having stood by silently beside Ty Lee, bit her lip and sniffled lightly. “Zuko…I’m sorry,” she said softly. “She’s gone. I can’t…I can’t feel her heartbeat anymore.”

Zuko nodded softly, pressing his forehead to Suki’s hand, reaching out and taking his daughter’s hand, feeling her press against him. “Uncle, Mother…please guide Suki home,” he thought, sniffling.

Three days later, everyone stood around Suki’s graveside. The earth had been freshly bent back over the casket by Aang, a task he took utmost care in doing. Zuko sighed softly, looking at his wife’s burial site, a pained feeling in his chest.

“I…always thought I’d be the first. With assassinations, uprisings, attacks, just…general hate left over or instilled because of the War, I thought I’d die first,” he said. He chuckled, smiling softly. “I always kind of envisioned Suki as going down swinging. Kyoshi Uniform, fans, and sword stained in blood, yelling “Come on, I’m still standing!” and taking down three or four more men before getting overwhelmed. It’s how she would have wanted it. Not…not like this.”

“No, I think surrounded by the people she loved was how it should have been, Zuko,” Sokka said with a small smile. “As much of a fighter as she was, she would have wanted it to be all of us around her. Like it was. Trying to give her some comfort. I…I just wish we could have done something to help her.”

“We did,” Katara said. “We were there for her.”

Aang nodded, sighing softly as he stepped forward. “Monk Gyatso once told me, “What you leave behind is not what is engraved into stone monuments, but woven into the lives of others.” Suki wove herself into our lives, helping us grow and find the better sides of ourselves. That’s what she’s leaving behind. A legacy on Kyoshi Island and in the Fire Nation. She was…the best of us, and losing her feels like we’ve lost a part of ourselves. It’ll take time for the pain in our hearts to fade, but it will.”

“We’ll see her again,” Azula said. “Sometime down the road we’ll all see her again.”

Zuko nodded. “Goodbye, Suki,” he said softly, kneeling down and putting his hand on the headstone. He lit a small fire in front of it, one that would never extinguish, and he closed his eyes softly. “I hope you’re in a better place and not in any more pain, my love.” He stood and faced the clouds, a small ray of sunlight peeking through the greying clouds, giving him a small amount of hope.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Zuki #Zuko #Suki #Aang #Katara #Toph BeiFong #Azula #Sokka #Ty Lee #this hurt to write #I hope y'all experiance the same heartbreak I did writing it

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mandelene · 4 years

Note

England is taking care of young America and Canada but comes down ill. Cue overly concerned colonies calling France to come and make him better. England is secretly a bit glad that France cared enough to come. Bonus: Stubborn and in stiff upper lip style, England keeps insisting he is fine when it is clear he is not. Bonus 2: America and Canada try to help on there own first. Bonus 3: America and Canada weigh up the pros and cons of calling France (eg. Making England angry or upset vs having a

Here it is! :) Hope you enjoy it.

Unlikely Ally

Word Count: 1658

“England! I’m so hungry I could eat a whole buffalo,” America whines, swinging his feet back and forth from his seat at the kitchen table.

“I can’t keep up with your voracious appetite,” England grumbles in response as he starts serving them the chicken, potatoes, and carrots he cooked for dinner.

Cooked is a generous term, in Canada’s opinion, but he admires England for his effort nonetheless. The food his caretaker puts in front of him is laughable compared to the mouthwatering culinary delights France once fed him, but being wasteful is rude and childish. Thus, Canada forces himself to swallow a forkful of dry, unseasoned chicken. He has offered to help cook before, but, as with most things, England always insists that he’s too little and shouldn’t worry — he has it under control.

“Yum!” America exclaims, digging right in. He has a stomach of steel. Does he not mind England’s cooking? Or is it all just for show? “This hits the spot!”

England manages a soft smile and picks up his glass of water with a pale, trembling hand. “I’m glad.”

So, Canada wasn’t imagining it then…

England has been acting strange since yesterday night. It seemed he had a headache before bed, and he must have felt quite weary because he didn’t have the same amount of enthusiasm and energy he normally exudes when reading their nightly bedtime story.

Today, there are gray bags under his eyes, his nose is faintly hyperpigmented with tones of red and pink, and he looks disheveled rather than tidy and put-together. His shirt is wrinkled, his hair is untamed, and he’s been wearing his wool coat indoors.

Canada doesn’t think America has noticed any of this, given that he’s not exactly a very perceptive person. He wants to ask England if he’s all right, but he doesn’t want to anger him, and besides, if he was well enough to cook, then it must not be anything serious.

Still, Canada can’t untangle the knot of worry tightening in his gut. He’s started growing closer to the man — not nearly as close as America is with him — but close enough to not want any harm to come upon him.

So when England tucks them in that night and asks if they can postpone their bedtime story because “I have important documents I really must finish tending to,” Canada is immediately concerned that he is going to overwork himself and become more ill.

America shrugs it all off and goes straight to sleep, but Canada stays up a bit longer. No more than twenty minutes after England has left the room, he hears the man coughing in his study.

Canada promises himself that if things aren’t better in the morning, he’ll devise a plan of action.

*******************************

As he feared, England worsens. The bags under his eyes darken significantly, his nose turns cherry red, and he doesn’t change out of the clothes he slept in.

At breakfast, even America begins to realize there’s a problem.

“England? You okay?” he asks without any hesitation, giving voice to the question that’s been hanging off Canada’s tongue for two days now.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” England instantly replies in a nasally voice.

“You don’t look okay…”

“Oh, it’s all right. I think I’ve caught a chill. Nothing to concern oneself with,” England assures, but given how downright exhausted he looks, Canada has a tough time believing him.

“Are you sure—?

“Why don’t you boys play by the river today? It’s a beautiful day for a swim,” England interrupts America, quickly changing subjects. “Just be cautious.”

“Yay!” America cheers, his concern already forgotten. “Hurry up and finish eating, Canada. I’ll race you there!”

Canada frowns. If they leave to go play, then England will be all alone in the house, and is it a good idea to leave him when he’s like this?

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a choice in the matter because as soon as he swallows his last bite of charred eggs, America drags him outside by the arm, blissfully unaware.

*******************************

This is bad. Very bad.

When they return for lunch because America complains of starvation again, they find England fast asleep in an armchair in the sitting room, looking even more ragged than before. His breathing has become louder and shallower and he’s flushed with fever.

“What do we do?” America asks, eyes glistening with tears. “What’s wrong with him? Should we wake him up?”

“I think it’s probably better to let him sleep,” Canada reasons. ”We should get him a blanket or something…France used to put a cold rag on my head whenever I had a fever.”

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

Canada fetches a quilt and covers England with it, pulling it up to the man’s shoulders. America, meanwhile, readies the damp rag and places it on England’s forehead, but the dramatic cold sensation rouses him.

England’s emerald eyes snap open, and he immediately jolts into a more dignified, upright position in the armchair.

“What’s all this?” he demands, and Canada takes several fearful steps back.

“We’re trying to make you better since you’re sick,” America explains, rocking on his heels.

“What in the world are you talking about? I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You need help,” America says more firmly, standing his ground.

“I am fine. A bit tired, but that’s all…I think…I think I’ll have a brief lie down and then I’ll prepare lunch.”

“You shouldn’t be cooking when you’re ill,” Canada timidly adds.

“For the last time, I’m perfectly all right! What has gotten into you both? You’re being pests,” England gripes, casting the cold rag and quilt aside before standing on his unsteady legs.

He’s absolutely hopeless.

*******************************

“He’s been sleeping in his room for three hours.”

“I know,” Canada says, just as anxious. He wrings his hands and tries to think. “Hey…France should be here any day now. He’s supposed to be meeting with England about a trade negotiation soon, right? He might even be somewhere in town already. He’ll know what to do.”

“France? But England hates France. He’d be angry at us for even talking to him.”

“I don’t think he really hates him…And we can tell one of England’s officers in town to send France over if he’s here.”

“I don’t know…Maybe he’ll feel better after he wakes up.”

Canada shakes his head. “He’s just getting worse.”

America angrily rubs at his eyes, trying to hide his tears, and says, “Okay. I’ll go into town and find out if he’s here or when he’s gonna get here. You watch England.”

“Okay.”

While Canada is terrified by the idea of having to be alone with England when he’s clearly not in the best of moods, having to go out and speak to one of the British officers would have been even worse.

While America goes off on the search, Canada brings a wooden chair into England’s bedroom, places it by the window, and sits down. If he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek, he’s distracted from his anxiety.

England’s breathing is labored—another worrisome sign that his health is continuing to deteriorate. Why would he be so ill? Economic or political trouble at home? Or is it just an ordinary human virus?

Please hurry, America, he thinks.

*******************************

“Where is he?”

“In here.”

“It’s going to be all right, Amérique. Don’t cry or fret."

France comes barging into the bedroom, startling Canada but also making his heart swell with glee.

It’s been over a year since Canada has seen France, and while he would like nothing more but to hug the man, he knows it will have to wait. There will be time to reconnect later.

“Salut, Canada, mon cher. What has this old fool done to himself now, hmm? Let’s see…Angleterre? Mon Dieu, he has a high fever…Arthur…Wake up.”

England stirs slightly and groans but doesn’t open his eyes.

“Big Brother France is here now to nurse you back to health, dear. I’m going to bring cold compresses and water.”

It’s unclear whether England registers anything that’s said to him. He merely continues heavily breathing.

It isn’t until France starts running another wet rag down his arms and chest that he finally becomes more alert.

“What’re you doing here?” is the first thing he mutters.

“The little ones called for me and said you’ve been ill. You haven’t been taking care of yourself and it shows.”

“Ughhhh.”

“You’re fortunate that Amérique and Canada have more sense than you do. Here, take a few sips of water…You’ve caught something again, haven’t you? You’re so prone to human illnesses. Or is there something deeper going on?”

England wheezes and coughs. “Just a cold…”

“Hah—a cold. Look at yourself. It’s more than a cold. You owe the boys an apology—they’ve been worried.”

“M’sorry to have frightened them…” England tiredly looks over at Canada first and then America before offering them a strained smile. “Thank you both…”

He then has a coughing fit, and for a split second, Canada genuinely believes that the man will stop breathing.

France sits him up, pats his back, and passes him a glass of water again. “Finish it all, and I’ll bring tea. A spoonful of raw onion with honey will have you feeling better in no time.”

“God no. Please.”

“Works every time,” France promises, squeezing his shoulder. Then, he looks at the clock and glowers, “Is it that late already?”

“Are you leaving?” England whispers, and it almost sounds like he wants France to stay.

“No. Not until you’ve recovered. But I do have to go into the kitchen to cook for the boys and prepare your medicine, so go back to sleep and shout if you need me.”

“…Don’t need you.”

“Of course not,” France grins. He gives England’s back a final pat, helps him lie down once more, and beckons for Canada and America to follow him to the kitchen.

Nothing seems scary anymore.

#hetalia #aph england #aph france #aph canada #aph america #aph face family #drabbles #drabble #sick england #torturing arthur #posting stories at 2 am because that's what i do best lmao

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a-damn-good-medic · 4 years

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Really Long Character Survey

RULES. repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck !

TAGGED. Stolen from: @cromwellharvests

BASICS.

FULL NAME : Charlotte Beatrice Samaritan NICKNAME : Lottie, Trixie (older brother only), Samaritan, Samari AGE : 21 (1915 – She turns 22 after the Promised Day) BIRTHDAY : 17th August 1893 NATIONALITY : Amestrian-Aerugian – though born and raised in Amestris LANGUAGE / S : Amestrian, conversational Aerugian SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Heterosexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Panromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Single HOME TOWN / AREA : Limoux (based off of this map), South Region, small town roughly 25-30 miles east-north-east of Fotset CURRENT HOME : lives in military barracks near to where she’s stationed, she’ll often say she’s “going home” when visiting her family PROFESSION : a medic to her core

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Black, 2a/2b wavy/curly hair, down to mid-back/the bottom of shoulder blades; pulled into a pony tail or bun for work reasons EYES : Honey brown – her father’s FACE : heart-shaped, light freckles across bridge of nose and cheek bones; somewhat baby-faced; fresh-faced LIPS : slightly thinner than average, upwards tilt on either side COMPLEXION : warm skin tone, freckles as mentioned above, skin tends to go through patches of dryness every few months BLEMISHES/SCARS : medium sized one on her left temple acquired from injury during active duty, but it’s mostly covered by her hair; a few smaller ones on other parts of her body acquired in a similar manner including one in the middle of her left pinkie finger TATTOOS : I have been toying with the idea of having a red cross (like the medical symbol) on the side of her left shoulder HEIGHT : 5′2″ WEIGHT : 112lbs. BUILD : neat hourglass shape, toned arms and legs, well built FEATURES : none particularly stand out ALLERGIES : None USUAL HAIR STYLE : Whilst at work, pulled back into a ponytail or a bun; outside of work tends to leave it down unless doing something where it needs to be/it’s better to keep it out of the way USUAL FACE LOOK : looks either busy in thought or bored, there is no in-between; she’s also an occasional victim of resting b!tch face; however will brighten up when approached by someone USUAL CLOTHING : military uniform is worn regularly; she loves her boots and will often wear them with other pairs of trousers; relatively simple clothing, rarely goes shopping for clothes, if she’s wearing something new most likely her mother sent it to her; dislikes long-sleeved shirts and prefers no sleeves altogether, tends to stick to three or four outfits which she cycles through; favours trousers, saves skirts and dresses for special occasions or good weather

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEARS : despite her profession death is a big one; emetophobia (fear of vomiting, especially in a public place/away from home); despite loving the appearance of lightning, thunder during storms triggers varying levels of anxiety ASPIRATIONS : to help as many people as she can, to improve awareness and treatment of mental illness which are often overlooked (especially the effects military service has on individuals) even if it’s just on an individual basis, to settle down with someone and raise a family POSITIVE TRAITS : sweet, charming, protective, compassionate, level-headed, genuine, dedicated, perceptive, ballsy, cheeky, forward NEGATIVE TRAITS : overemotional; gets attached too easily; unforgiving or (depending on circumstance) holds a long-standing grudge; unsure of her position when in a new place so feels she has to justify herself and her abilities/work, leading to her being very short with some people; can be rash and impulsive when it comes to her patients, would rather throw herself into danger with them than leave them on their own MBTI : ISFJ-A – the Defender ZODIAC : Leo TEMPERAMENT : phlegmatic SOUL TYPES : server, priest ANIMALS : turtle, dog, snake VICE / HABITS : losing track of time and taking very long showers; staying up too late; shakes her head side to side when she yawns, as if waking herself up; chewing on the end of a pen; repeatably pops on/off snap poppers on clothing, especially if they’re on the end of her sleeves FAITH : agnostic though will often fall back on religion when she can’t do anything to help a situation (e.g. she’ll resort to praying if a situation is dire) GHOSTS ? : nope AFTERLIFE ? : wants to believe in the afterlife but can’t quite bring herself to REINCARNATION ? : wants to believe in reincarnation more than the afterlife but again, can’t quite bring herself to ALIENS ? : probably, but accepts that that question won’t be answered in her lifetime POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : wish-washy; goes through periods of being furious with the political climate (often when issues arise) whilst remaining up to date, and times of just ignoring it/not being too involved; however, stands (and somewhat fights) for equality across the board as well as protesting to protect the freedom of choice EDUCATION LEVEL : due to growing up in the middle of nowhere, she only attended a small school which obviously limited her education to the point where I argue that she probably left school at 14 (due to context of schooling in the early 1900s) like everyone else who lived in the area; received specific training when she enlisted to become a medic; spends time reading up on other medical techniques/treatments that she wasn’t taught at the academy; some basic knowledge on how the family business is run, but she never expected to inherit it and therefore didn’t spend much time considering it

FAMILY.

FATHER : Lucian Samaritan MOTHER : Silvia Violetta Fontana SIBLINGS : she’s the second eldest of seven with six brothers, Andrew, Samuel, Seth, Kent, Isaac, and Wyatt EXTENDED FAMILY : Henrik and Eleanor (paternal grandparents) NAME MEANING / S : Charlotte – female version of Charles – meaning “man, army, warrior”; Samaritan – following Arakawa’s lead, she’s named after the FV104 Samaritan, which is an armoured ambulance.

FAVORITES.

BOOK : fiction, often books from her childhood which are mainly coming-of-age stories; she does also have a soft spot for biographies or journals of people who have similarities to her (whether that be type of job, favourite hobbies, Southern region background/childhood, etc.); keen to read any medical journals that she can get her hands on 5 SONGS : her favourites tend to be country or folk-songs, songs with a story or meaning; she also holds a soft spot for swing DEITY : although she relies on religion in dire situations, she doesn’t believe in the afterlife because she doesn’t believe in a supreme being/creator HOLIDAY : tries to get time off to go home to visit family on holidays, but will conspire with her older brother to make sure that they are either both home or both away; because of this, holidays get ‘postponed’ in the Samaritan household until the two can find time to get away; tends to be a busy household due to numbers, with Lottie being liable to drag a couple of friends with her if they have nowhere to go MONTH : September SEASON : Autumn PLACE : the large barn at Willowbranch Acres, the family home; the narrow top floor was claimed by the kids soon after it was built, with it being full of cushions, blankets, rugs, as well as a couple of hobby items; it’s always there when you need time to think and space away from the likeable chaos WEATHER : sunny, clear skies but with a mild cooling breeze, not too hot, not too cold; lightning on a dark, cloudy night, despite dislike of thunder that is too close SOUND : humming from down the hall; light playing of a piano; muffled voices and music of a tavern/pub as you walk by; crunching of leaves and heavy footsteps as you run through the woods SCENTS : warm bread, lilies, apple blossom, TASTES : chocolate, orange juice, apple cider, well-done buttered toast FEELINGS : long hot shower, the first gust of wind after a stifling train journey, a dog curled up beside you, forehead kisses and touches ANIMALS : love dogs with a passion, wanted one desperately as a kid before she received Sven on her 16th birthday, has a soft spot for donkeys, cows, and horses as well due to their present back in her hometown NUMBER : 8 COLORS : white, beige, black, all kinds of blue and fall colours (specifically the oranges)

EXTRA.

TALENTS : deescalating or delaying conflicts; decent with a pistol; scarily good with a bow and arrow; telling when someone is lying or telling a half-truth; coincidentally getting away with only telling half-truths instead of outright lying whilst having the same effect BAD AT : keeping herself healthy (well-fed, good sleep schedule, enough liquids); going to bed at a decent time when she doesn’t have to get up at a particular time the next morning; taking out someone in order to ensure her safety; shutting up when someone is threatening her; remaining impartial; cooking or baking more than the three dishes she has down; keeping a straight face after saying something that she thinks is ~hilarious~ TURN ONS : really enthusiastic about a hobby; susceptible to gingers/redheads for some reason ¯\_(ツ)_/¯; also susceptible to short beards, van dykes and goatees; confidence; good sense of humour; ideally intelligent (not necessarily academically though, can be on a very niche topic) TURN OFFS : when they won’t take a hint that she’s not interested; people who insult the person they were just hitting on because they got rejected; shallow but if they’re shorter than her; honest to god, bad mustaches (the roystache I’m looking at you (≖ ‿ ≖ ) ); HOBBIES : Soapbox/Baby cart races; swing dancing; violin; piano; running; sparring; singing; walking in the countryside; archery TROPES : Girl Next Door, Loyalist, Farmer’s Daughter, The Reliable One, Big Brother Instinct, Good is Not Soft, The Heart, Technical Pacifist

#Getting to know [About]#They see me scrolling [Dash Memes]

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dustinczarny · 4 years

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Sunday Thoughts: Democracy delayed but maybe not denied in the time of COVID

2020 has already seen massive changes to the political landscape of New York without one election actually being held. The COVID crisis has made us think on the fly about how to hold elections, delay elections, and in some cases whether to hold them at all. The crisis has also shined a light on the inadequacies of our New York Electoral system and how hard it is to change it. We muse that this crisis is going to change things in our society and in terms of elections I hope it changes the assumptions about how easy it is to run them and people realize that we can’t put off electoral reform year after year.

This year the Covid Crisis has already forced us to move our April 28th Presidential Primary and Special elections to June 23rd, postpone the March 18th Village elections and May 19th School elections to a date yet to be determined, redesign the absentee ballot procedures for June, and rethink where we can hold elections. Now comes word this week that the special elections scheduled for June 23rd are cancelled, and it is possible the Presidential primary will be cancelled after a meeting of the State Board tomorrow.

It is rightful to be concerned about these changes and the effect it will have on the New York electoral system. In light of our national assault on Democracy through gerrymandering and restrictive voting regulations used to give partisan advantage, these changes can be seen as worrisome signs. Fears about what this could mean for the November elections are only natural.

However we only need to look at the Wisconsin primary on April 7th to see what happens when officials ignore the dangers and push through with elections without adjusting. The Wisconsin GOP over ruled the Governor who wanted to delay the election in hopes of using the Pandemic to suppress turnout and win a WI Supreme Court seat. They also went to the Supreme Court to limit absentee voting. Voters had to stand in long lines as polling places were closed due to lack of inspectors. The Gambit didn’t work. Voters turned out and the results at the ballot box, with the Democrat winning by substantial numbers, should be seen as a warning to those who try to limit democracy. At what cost though. BY last count dozens of new COVID infections have been traced to the April 7th elections.

New York was correct in delaying elections and is further doing the right thing by allowing an expanded absentee balloting. The New York Constitution does not allow straight vote by mail, so Governor Cuomo is doing the next best thing. He has by executive order allowed anyone to apply for an absentee by using the “temporary illness” excuse because of the COVID crisis. He further made it easier to apply by allowing for email applications. Now on Friday he announced that Board of Elections must mail an application to every voter with postage paid returns. You still need to apply, a ballot won’t, and can’t, be automatically mailed. And if you don’t want to wait, in Onondaga County you can go to onvote.net and apply now. Soon a phone option will be launched as well.

Activists and some voters will take issue with the cancellation of state and local special elections and the possible elimination of the Presidential Primary. Certainly cancelling elections is a concern and it would be reflexive to just say we should hold these elections anyway. Unfortunately the answer is, as usual, not that simple. The Special Election, Presidential Primary, and local primaries are three different elections under NYS law. This means separate ballots and separate check ins for each election. This would double the amount of inspectors and possibly triple the amount of mailing costs for local boards. Also there could be voter confusion both at home and at the polling place by voters and inspectors alike. Part of the OVID crisis has prevented Boards from holding training of inspectors and we would be faced with doing this on the fly on Election Day itself. This confusion in and of itself could be seen as a form of vote suppression.

Normally I would say damn the costs and confusion and give a lecture on the need for investment in Democracy. However the Specials and Presidential Primary have devolved into what can best be described as inconsequential elections. The winners of the special elections would not take office now until July, traditionally the session for the New York legislature ends in June. Holding the already scheduled elections in November will mean a representative will be in place for the start of session next year. There are also staff in all of these seats to address constituent concerns and those staff continue. Not ideal, but definitely not something that is earth shattering.

The Presidential Primary may come to an end as well on Monday. State Board Commissioners were given the right to determine whether a candidacy was active and drop them off the ballot. At the time this was passed there were scheduled to have 11 candidates on the NY Primary ballot, 9 of them had already dropped out of the race and endorsed another candidate. The other 2, Biden and Sanders, were publicly giving every indication they would stay on well past June. This was a way to simplify the ballot for voters and make it easier for Boards of Elections. However now Bernie Sanders has also dropped out of the race and endorsed Biden. So now the State Board Commissioners could remove him from the ballot ending the primary.

Sanders supporters will point to Sanders wish that his name remain on the ballot so he can rack up delegates for the party convention. The question remains does the State of New York have a vested interest in spending public dollars on a party squabble? I am an advocate of primaries over caucuses because I believe the State of New York has a vested interest in determining the candidate that appears on the General Election Ballot is truly the representative of the citizens’ wishes. However that is not at question here. Keeping the Presidential Primary will double the amount of absentee costs for every county, and close to 1/3 of the counties will have to open up polling places on Election Day (when they otherwise wouldn’t have to).. It may be better to allow the Biden and Sanders camps along with the New York State Democratic Party make alternate plans on delegate selection.

Onondaga County would have to open up anyway in June so I take no personal position, but simple solutions on both sides of this question overlook the complexities involved. These complexities are made more problematic by New York’s still antiquated election laws. So much progress was made last year but many things like Automatic Voter Registration, absentee reform, ballot access, and minor election law changes were left on the table. When the legislative session comes resumes voting reforms should once again take center stage so that when the next crisis hits our Democracy can be more nimble and put the needs of the voters forward. We have a great deal of work to get to a more accessible modern voting system. Hopefully we will learn from these tribulations and build a better New York together.

Dustin Czarny

NYS Elections Commissioner Association Democratic Caucus Chair

Onondaga County Elections Commissioner (D)

#elections #covid_19 #absentee voting #new york

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joyfulpoet · 5 years

Text

Handsome Brothers’ Daycare

Modern AU crossover where Lan Wangji collects all his queer brothers to help him run a daycare.

Part 1 | Part 2

~~~~ part 3

The man seated across from him at the cafe did look rather, unwell. He was so pale his skin was almost translucent; face thin, with dark smudges under the eyes. It was concerning. But Yue Qingyuan had insisted that his friend Shen Yuan was interested in the job and that his doctors had given the ok for him work again, as long as it wasn’t overly stressful.

Of the business tycoons that Lan WangJi had met before leaving the business world behind, Yue Qingyuan was a rare breed. He was more for quality over quantity; valuing getting the job done right even if it took an extra year to do it. This had at first earned him a lot of criticism from others, but as every job he handled went off without a hitch and none of them turned sour later. Many of those critics learned it was better to swallow their tongues then to bad mouth him. To say the least Lan WangJi had respect for the man.

But the fact that the job he needed to fill did require the person to be able to work with a bunch of rambunctious children left him a bit concerned. Lan WangJi looked back down at the resume. Shen Yuan did have experience from before his illness had surfaced and had work with young children before. So he would know what would be the best subjects to focus on.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Shen Yuan interrupted Lan WangJi’s thoughts. His voice was strong at least, nothing in it hinted at the possibility of the owner being ill. “I look like shit.”

He hadn’t planned to say anything to that extent to the man’s face. Lan Wangji merely nod at him to continue.

“I had hoped to wait a week before meeting with you, but Yue was very insistent that I meet with you as soon as possible. My doctor a few months back convinced me to try out a new treatment that should help keep me in better health in the long term. It’s just that I look like hell for a week right afterwards.”

Lan WangJi nodded in understanding before asking “Do these treatments happen frequently?”

Shen Yuan waved his hand as if he could shoo away the concern. “No no, only once every three to four months. I’ll only need a week to rest afterwards.”

This just made Lan WangJi more concerned. Yue Qingyuan did say his friend had a bad tendency to downplay his illness, believing himself a burden.

“Is there a reason you don’t want to go back to teaching high school again? You must miss it.”

The man across from him studied the top of their table where he’d been folding one of the napkins up like a fan. “The school I had work for had been a public one. Most of the kids were poor. A lot of them by the time they got to me were on their way to being delinquents. In their minds no one cared about them, so why should they? As their Shizun I did my best to let them know I cared, but . . .” A deep sadness etched his face. “I’ve always wondered if I’d met them sooner if things could be different.”

“Most of the looking after will be done by Brother Xie and I. You needing more time after treatments will not be a problem.”

Shen Yuan blinked a bit looking up. “Oh.” Tentatively he asked, “Does that mean you’re hiring me?”

Lan WangJi nodded, shuffling papers back into their folder. “I trust Yue Qingyuan judgement, and I want people who care.”

****

Lan WangJi was just starting to prepare lunch for the children when a large, slightly bewildered looking young man in a black hoody wondered in through the back door. He paused before looking about as if he’d lost something. His face crumpled up a bit, Lan WangJi was unsure if it was from sadness or anger.

“ . . . Can I help you?”

The young man jumped a bit, he seemingly hadn’t noticed the other person in the room.

“ . . . Shizun . . .” Was all he was able to mumble out.

They stared at each for awhile before Lan WangJi asked “Shen Yuan?”

Nod.

“He’s setting up for the lesson after nap-time.”

“ . . . oh? May I go see him?”

“ . . . No.”

“Why not?” There was hard edge underlining to the question.

Lan WangJi huffed as he went to check the rice. “There are children here.”

The young man blinked. “Why are there children?”

“This is a daycare.”

“Oh . . .” The young man nodded in understanding, then shifted about uncomfortably, clenching and unclenching his hands.

Since he hadn’t tried to leave the kitchen Lan WangJi decided for the time being he wasn’t a threat and went back to cooking. He was just starting to place the meat in the heated pan when there came a pained strangled sound from behind him.

“Elder Brother, do you even know how to cook?!”

Offended Lan Wangji turned to give him a reproached look. The food he made might be bland but it was at least edible. Brother Xie somehow always manage to charr everything to black bits; while Brother Shen only knew how to microwave food. Such was the life of bachelors from well off families. Though Brother Xie had the excuse of having not lived anywhere with a kitchen in some years. It also surprisingly stung when a three year old tells you your cooking is awful.

Ignoring the glare, the young man rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie before grabbing the cooking utensils from Lan WangJi’s hands.

“If you cook the meat like that it’ll get all tough. You want it soft.”

****

Sometime later Shen Yuan wandered into the kitchen to see about helping Brother Lan with the lunch. And found it a little more crowed then usual.

“What’s this? Did you hire a cook while I was a way Brother Lan?”

There was a clatter as the young man fumbled the rice spoon. Luckily no rice was lost in the process.

“ . . . Maybe.” Came the rumbled reply. “He seems to know you.”

“Does he?” He looked at the young man. There was something about his face that felt familiar. It was a very handsome face, still with a touch of boyish softness giving it a devilish charm. The half ponytail in his wavy hair gave him a slight wilded look. Where had he seen him before?

A blush had started to creep up the young man’s face while he fidgeted with the rice spoon.

“Has Shizun forgotten this student?”

Student?

“Oh! Little Luo Binghe! Though you’re not so little anymore!” Shen Yuan couldn’t help but grin at seeing his favorite student.

The last time he had seen this student he had been a gangly 17 year old who barely came up to his shoulder. What a surprise he grew up to be so tall and handsome! He was even taller then Brother Lan who was also very tall.

Luo Binghe face crumpled up, the corners of his eyebrows twitched. Did the boy have a stomach ache?

****

Everything was just too much for Luo Binghe. Here was his old Shizun, smiling as if he hadn’t just up and disappeared five years ago. Like he knew nothing of what happened afterwards. Anger clogged his throat while his heart felt like it was being strangled.

“Shizun,” he finally managed to scrape out while glowering down at the spoon, “where have you been all this time? Did you not think people would worry?”

The last bit was interrupted by Brother Lan.

“Sit down before you pass out.”

A weak voice protested with the sound of chair being pulled out, “Eh? I’m fine Brother Lan, I’m fine.”

Luo Binghe looked up as a pale Shen Yuan was gently pushed to sit.

“Is Shizun unwell?” The Shizun he remembered had always been healthy.

“I’m fine!” he exclaimed waving his hand as if to shoo the concern away. He’s face then turned a pale green nearly matching the shirt he wore. Slowly he bent forward to place his head between his knees.

“You were up editing for that friend of yours again.” Brother Lan stated.

There was an awkward silence before Shizun answered with a sheepish, “I couldn’t sleep.”

The other man huffed before turning to fill a glass with water and setting it on the table next to Shizun, still folded in half over his knees. A gruff “Rest” was muttered before he left the kitchen. An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room, only broken by the sound of the rice cooker beeping that it was done.

A quiet, muffled “I’m sorry.” came shortly after. Slowly Shen Yuan raised his head until he was able to sit up straight. “I had not wanted to worry anyone. I was very selfish that day when I choose not to return or to give a proper goodbye. I understand if you’re angry with this Shizun.”

The man before him wasn’t the same Shizun. He was too thin and pale. Luo Binghe had dreamed about returning the suffering he’d had after Shizun left. Make him understand the betrayal he felt those five years ago. But he hadn’t expected this, this shadow of a man. He felt his heart being pinched in sympathy. How could he rage at a man who looked as if a gust of wind would blow him over. It was just so unfair.

Before he could find anymore words to say Brother Lan returned with a much smaller man in tow.

“Brother Shen! I heard you nearly fainted again! Are you alright?” This new brother smiled comfortingly while gently petting Shen Yuan on the head. “Should we postpone your lesson for tomorrow? I can always take the older children with when I take the younger ones to the park to play.”

Shizun shook his head as he accepted a medication bottle that Brother Lan handed him. Shaking a few out he swallowed them with the water from early before answering.

“No I’ll be fine once I’ve rested, but thank you Brother Xie. Don’t glare at me like that Brother Lan, I’m just tired.”

Luo Binghe glanced at the brother in question. His face was still as stone as ever. He’d been in close proximity to him for almost an hour as he’d helped cook. The man had said very little both with his words and his face. But the feeling of closeness the two men had with his Shizun grated at him strangely.

“You should rest upstairs.” Said Brother Lan, “It will be quieter.” Shen Yuan looked as if he was going to argue when he said, “I will tell Yue.” A look of horror crossed Shizun’s face.

“That’s playing dirty!”

“Take better care and I would not have too.”

Then for the first time in his young life Luo Binghe saw Shizun pout.

****

The problem with Wei Wuxian isn’t that he’s not aware he’s queer. He’s well aware he’s a bi disaster. He just forgets he’s not the only one. And right now he’s in agony.

Those older sisters weren’t lying when they called this the Handsome Brothers’ Daycare. All the brothers here were definitely VERY handsome, and probably also very straight. Even the grumpy puppy in the back that glared at him from the doorway when he was talking to Brother Shen. That one was too young for his tastes though. Brother Shen wasn’t too bad. He seemed very gentle and had a good face despite looking like he might have been ill recently. It made Wei Wuxian want to wrap him up like a burrito and feed him soup.

There was another brother he’d yet to get a good look at as he was being dragged about by small children. He seem to be a small bean with a blinding smile. Wei Wuxian could image cuddling with him. Just the right size to tuck under his chin.

Right now though he was fighting hard not to tease the stone faced brother in front of him, typing away at the computer. The serious ones were Wei Wuxian’s favorite. They always reacted in one of two ways to his flirting. Either they would get flustered but be too polite to say anything, or they’d get angry and start yelling. But given that this stone face brother was the owner and Wei Wuxian REALLY needed someone to watch his son and nephew, he’d just have to keep his shamelessness to himself.

He wasn’t supposed to be work this morning. Him and his Shijie had an arrangement so that when one of them was working the other could watch both of their munchkins. But one of his part-time jobs had called him in a panic saying they really need him to come in. Being the bleed heart he was he agreed to if he could find someone to watch the kids. A lot of the other parents in his apartment complex however also had work. But one of the ladies took pity on him and told him to check out the daycare by the old park.

The prices were surprisingly reasonable, and the place, while not new looking, looked clean and inviting. The walls were painted with murals of clouds and mountains, almost making you believe you were in the heavens with the early morning sunlight streaming in through the big windows at the front of the building. Along the walls were shelves full of books and toys for the children to play with. The floor was littered with squishy bean bags and overly large pillows for siting or laying on. The preschool lessons had a small sectioned off area to the back with folding screens if the smaller children proved too distracting. Apparently there was even a vegetable garden out back where a small colony of bunnies lived that the kids could help care for.

Wei Wuxian was almost jealous. This was practically a small paradise for children. On top of that they got to play all day with all these handsome brothers and demand all the hugs they wanted! He was so distracted by the musings of his crooked little heart that he forgot that he had decided to behave himself.

“Lan Er Gege, you must have all the single moms fawning over you being so handsome.” Wei Ying gave him his most flirty smile awhile giving him a very obvious once over.

The man in question paused in his typing to turn his pale eyes to Wei Wuxian. He did look very good, with his shoulder length black hair tied back while wearing a well tailored, pale blue dress shirt with a slim white necktie. The tie, he observed had little cloud motifs embroidered in a marching thread color to his shirt, which he found rather cute. Neckties were also great for playing with.

To his utter disappointment though, Brother Lan did not react to his flirtation. The man merely blinked twice before turning back to the computer. What Wei Ying hadn’t noticed was that the lobs of Brother Lan’s ears had started to turn red.

Wei Wuxian was just thinking of his next attack when the small child in his arms started to squirm. When he’d left the apartment this morning to take A-Yuan and A-Ling to the daycare, A-Yuan had still been fast asleep. Instead of waking him Wei Wuxian decided to just carry him even though he was getting quite big for a three year old.

“Oh ho! Is someone finally waking up?” Wei Ying couldn’t keep the glee out his voice as his son sleepy blinked his eyes open. Since he couldn’t tease the stone faced brother he could tease this small child.

A-Yuan however was too well aquatinted with his Papa’s teasing and not awake enough to deal with it. With his tiny hands he patted at Wei Ying’s face that was definitely trying to blow him raspberries, while voicing a pitiful “ nooooo “ while looking about for an escape. He then spotted Brother Lan who looked both very serious and intimidating. Filled with hope he stretched his little arms out to him with a small “Eh!”

Lan Wangji’s brows lifted in surprise. Then hesitantly he reached across the counter. With a quiet “pardon me” he lifted A-Yuan out of Wei Wuxian’s arms. Then settled him above his right hip. A-Yuan safe from the teasing Papa, happily wrapped his little arms about his savior’s neck and went back to sleep.

Wei Ying felt too many things at once. He felt betrayed that his own child (well adopted child, but he’d still known A-Yuan since he was born) would choose someone over him. He was jealous that this brother got to snuggle with his son, A-Yuan was picky about who he snuggled with. And he was jealous that his son got to snuggle with this good looking brother. But also Wei Ying’s crooked little heart was being strangled by how cute this whole thing was. He wished that someone with a phone had been present to record this! Then he realized that his son just presented him with the perfect opportunity.

“Oh my goodness! this is just too cute! Could I take picture!” He was already pulling his phone out. Brother Lan at first seem not to hear, then blinked a few time. After a moment he nodded. Wei Wuxian snapped three pictures before the other man could say anything. With the morning light casting a soft glow on them it looked so wholesome, as if a father was holding his son before going off to work at the office. It was almost worth getting rejected to have this picture.

“Uncle Ying!” Came a tiny voice by his knee.

“Hmm” Wei Ying looked down at his other charge, his two year old nephew A-Ling. His nephew was pouting up at him while gripping his pant leg with one hand while holding a small dog plushie with the other.

“Hmmm? Do you want something A-Ling?” Wei Wuxian asked knowing full well what the toddler wanted. The two year old hadn’t taken well to having to share his Uncle Ying. The whole way here he had whined to be carried too. Now that A-Yuan had vacated to someone else’s arms he expected to be picked up. Sadly for him Uncle Ying’s crooked heart still wasn’t satisfied with its teasing.

A few things have changed since writing part one. A original I was going to have Lan Wangji like actually hire Luo Binghe, but now I think it’s going to be more of Luo Binghe just shows up to cook food and harass Shizun to take a fucking nap. For the most part Lan Wangji is fine with it as long as he’s not an actually threat to anyone and Shen Yuan doesn’t work himself to death.

I also changed A-Yuan’s age. In part 1 I said he was 2, but he’s suppose to be older the A-Ling, so I made his 3 and A-ling 2.

Anyway, just one brother left to introduce! I’m kind of excited to try writing Hua Cheng.

Also thank you again for all the likes and reblogs! It means a lot that people are enjoying this au!

Also drew these guys kissing the other day WeiLan | HuaXie LuoShen

#grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mo dao zu shi #heavens offical's blessing #tian guan ci fu #scum villian system #scum villain self-saving system #lan wangji #wei wuxian #xie lian #shen yuan #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #fan fiction #fanfic #writing #modern au #Handsome Brothers' Daycare

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autolovecraft · 3 years

Text

Dusk fell and found Birch still toiling.

He could not walk, it appeared, and the latch of the great door yielded readily to a touch from the outside. He worked largely by feeling now, since newly gathered clouds hid the moon; and though progress was still slow, he felt heartened at the extent of his encroachments on the top and bottom of the aperture. He would not, he found, have to pile another on his platform to make the proper height; for the hole was on exactly the right level to use as soon as its size might permit. It was generally stated that the affliction and shock were results of an unlucky slip whereby Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley; and was a very calloused and primitive specimen even as such specimens go. Birch decided that he would begin the next day with little old Matthew Fenner, whose grave was also near by; but actually postponed the matter for three days, not getting to work till Good Friday, the 15th. Over the door, however, the high, slit-like transom in the brick facade gave promise of possible enlargement to a diligent worker; hence upon this his eyes long rested as he racked his brains for means to reach it. He was oddly anxious to know if Birch were sure—absolutely sure—of the identity of that top coffin of the pile; how he had been certain of it as the Fenner coffin in the dusk, and how he had chosen it, how he had chosen it, how he had been certain of it as the Fenner coffin in the dusk, and how he stepped on the puppy that snapped at him a year ago last August … He was the devil incarnate, Birch, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was. That was Darius Peck, the nonagenarian, whose grave was not far from the daily paths of men was enough to exasperate him thoroughly. He had, indeed, made that coffin for Matthew Fenner; but had cast it aside at last as too awkward and flimsy, in a fit of curious sentimentality aroused by recalling how kindly and generous the little old man had been to him during his bankruptcy five years before. The borders of the space were entirely of brick, and there seemed little doubt but that he could shortly chisel away enough to allow his body to pass.

Davis, an old-time village practitioner, had of course seen both at the respective funerals, as indeed he had attended both Fenner and Sawyer in their last illnesses. He had, indeed, made that coffin for Matthew Fenner; but had cast it aside at last as too awkward and flimsy, in a fit of curious sentimentality aroused by recalling how kindly and generous the little old man had been to him during his bankruptcy five years before. The light was dim, but Birch's sight was good, and he did not care to imagine.

He worked largely by feeling now, since newly gathered clouds hid the moon; and though progress was still slow, he felt heartened at the extent of his encroachments on the top and bottom of the aperture.

Birch in those days was insensitive, and was concerned only in getting the right coffin for the platform; for no sooner was his full bulk again upon it than the rotting lid gave way, jouncing him two feet down on a surface which even he did not care to imagine.

Clutching the edges of the aperture. Whether he had imagination enough to wish they were empty, is strongly to be doubted. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. It was Asaph's coffin, Birch, just as I thought! His questioning grew more than medically tense, and his hands shook as he dressed the mangled members; binding them as if he wished to get the wounds out of sight as quickly as possible.

Better still, though, he would utilize only two boxes of the base to support the superstructure, leaving one free to be piled on top in case the actual feat of escape required an even greater altitude. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. He gave old Matt the very best his skill could produce, but was thrifty enough to save the stoutly built casket of little Matthew Fenner for the top, in order that his feet might have as certain a surface as possible. He always remained lame, for the great tendons had been severed; but I think the greatest lameness was in his soul. Birch set out for the tomb with horse and wagon to transfer the body of Matthew Fenner. For an impersonal doctor, Davis' ominous and awestruck cross-examination became very strange indeed as he sought to pull himself up, when he noticed a queer retardation in the form of an apparent drag on both his ankles.

His frightened horse had gone home, but his frightened wits never quite did that. He could, he was sure, get out by midnight—though it is characteristic of him that this thought was untinged with eerie implications. It must have been midnight at least when Birch decided he could get through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. He had even wondered, at Sawyer's funeral, how the vindictive farmer had managed to lie straight in a box so closely akin to that of the diminutive Fenner. Birch, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death himself.

But it would be well to say as little as could be said, and to let no other doctor treat the wounds. Would the firm Fenner casket have caved in so readily? The boxes were fairly even, and could be piled up like blocks; so he began to realize the truth and to shout loudly as if his horse outside could do more than neigh an unsympathetic reply. The afflicted man was fully conscious, but would say nothing of any consequence; merely muttering such things as Oh, my ankles! He would not, he found, have to pile another on his platform to make the proper height; for the unexpected tenacity of the easy-looking brickwork was surely a sardonic commentary on the vanity of mortal hopes, and the coffin niches on the sides and rear—which Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door. I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here. Why did you do it, Birch?

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bucky-bear-barnes · 6 years

Text

Left At The Altar - Part 1? (Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader)

Title: Left At The Altar (Part 1?)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader

Genre: Angst?

Summary: It should’ve been the best day of (Y/N)’s life, that is, until she was left at the altar by her beloved metal armed soldier.

PS, this could potentially be a multipart fic if anyone is interested in seeing where this goes. Let me know with your comments or messages!

MASTERLIST

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

The church was decorated so beautifully it almost seemed ethereal. (Y/N) was dressed in the white wedding gown she picked with her best friends, Steve, Natasha, and Wanda. Settled on the plush couch, her heartbeat was erratic as she constantly fumbled with the soft fabric of her gown. It was going to be one of the most important moments of her life, a day she was dreaming about since she’s set eyes on a James Buchanan Barnes.

(Y/N) met James when he was first introduced to the Avengers facilities. A boisterous Tony Stark was sauntering around the building he owned whilst blabbering about his accomplishments with the Avengers Tower with a quiet Bucky tagging along behind.

(Y/N) was Pepper’s personal assistant and was heading to find Tony to sign an urgent document. Her heels clicked on the marble flooring as her eyes were trained to the document in her hand. As a genetically enhanced super soldier, Bucky picked up the sound of heels clicking from a far distance ahead but paid no mind to it, wanting nothing but to be brought into his bedroom so he could brood in peace.

Just then, Tony spotted the young girl up front; her hair up in a messy bun, a crisp white shirt tucked into her navy pencil skirt with a document she was burying her nose into. Stark couldn’t resist the prankster in him and fell quiet much to Bucky’s confusion. As the girl closed in, Stark performed an immature jump scare that proved to work, when (Y/N) let out a yelp and lost her balance on the thin stilettos she was sporting. Bucky’s fast reflex caught the tumbling girl at her waist, hoisting her up to prevent the nasty fall which resulted in Tony’s devious I-am-up-to-no-good smirk as he got Pepper’s personal assistant to help complete Bucky’s tour.

That was their first meeting three years ago and two and a half years into their relationship, Bucky popped the question in an intimate Christmas gathering with all the Avengers presence. (Y/N) agreed and here she was at their wedding with tears of happiness and a bright smile donning her face.

Natasha and Wanda were fussing around the bride, constantly touching up her makeup, giving her tea to help calm her nerves whilst giving her words of encouragement and admiration.

“You look absolutely beautiful (Y/N), Bucky would be awestruck at the altar, I promise you.” Wanda gushed, clasping the bride’s hands within her own.

Natasha agreed with a wide grin and said, “I’m just going to go check on Steve and Sam to see how everything is going alright? Be right back, sweetheart.”

Out in the decorated church hall was Steve and Sam busy greeting the incoming guests. There wasn’t much invited but everyone who was, is near and dear to the couple. However, missing in this almost picture perfect scene, was Bucky, the groom of this wedding. Sam had a huge smile on his face, greeting everyone that was coming through but Steve was always lacking in the “poker face” department and looked worried albeit smiling at the guest.

Natasha spotted the troubled expression Steve had on once she set eyes on the soldier and hurried towards him. It also did not escape the trained assassin’s eyes that the groom was missing from the crowd.

Grabbing Steve by his arm, the Russian assassin pulled him towards a corner and whispered harshly, “Where’s your best buddy?! Why isn’t the groom out here?! He better be in the bathroom calming down his nerves or I’ll rip his good arm off him.”

Steve’s frown deepened at the questions and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Goddammit Natalia, I’m trying to locate Bucky myself. He was right beside Sam and I just a while ago. The next time I wanted to ask him if I should go check on (Y/N) he was gone! I tried calling him on his cell a couple of times but he isn’t picking up.” Steve replied in hushed tones, the frown lines on his face deepening with every word.

The super soldier took a deep breath and asked, “How’s (Y/N) holding up? Is she asking for Bucky? Is that why you’re here?”

“She holding up as best as a bride could be on her wedding day. She isn’t asking for Barnes. For now.” the redhead replied.

Every time a crisis is in the works, the captain in Steve Rogers took over as he squared his shoulders and said, “Nat, you go back in there and accompany (Y/N) and help calm her nerves, Sam is taking care of the guests, I’ll continue calling Bucky and get FRIDAY to try to acquire his location, alright? If all else fails, I’m just going to announce that (Y/N) is ill and the wedding is to be postponed. There’s no way I’m going to let the first and last time she walks down that aisle in disappointment and shame. If Bucky is going to cower away, then he’d better stay away. I didn’t give up on my feelings for (Y/N) to not see her happy.”

The captain turned around and made his way over to Stark, most likely to get his help with FRIDAY triangulating Bucky’s location, as Natasha looked at him, worried lines evident on her face as she contemplated ways to end Barnes’ life.

Steve stood at the corner of the now lively church, his hands gripping his cellphone as he typed his hundredth message to his best friend, hoping to get a reply. His calls were now directed to voicemail and texts were all left unread.

He let his mind flit to the night before when he spotted Bucky standing at the common room’s balcony, looking lost in his thoughts. He walked over to his friend and questioned if he was alright. Bucky gave Steve an unsure smile and asked him the oddest question.

“Do you think marrying (Y/N) is right for me?”

Steve replied with a bark of laughter and said they were the best couple he has ever met and will ever meet, why would he be questioning such a thing?

“The past couple of weeks I have been unsure about my feelings towards (Y/N). I mean she’s the first dame I met since I had Hydra erased from my mind. I wouldn’t know if there could be anyone else, any other type of romance, would I? Maybe, she just isn’t the one for me.”, Bucky’s words sounded unsure as he questioned the three long years he’s had with his girlfriend.

Steve didn’t think much of it and thought Bucky was simply having pre-wedding jitters. He reassured his friend and gave him a pat on his back, telling him to get some rest and stop letting his mind wander. He did not expect Bucky’s words to hold any sort of truth to it, until now.

A half hour has passed since the starting time of the wedding with no Bucky in sight. Guests were getting antsy at not seeing the bride or groom. Tony and Pepper have utilized the entire Stark industry technology to located the missing groom to no avail. Sam’s chatters to help keep guests distracted was also slowing down.

Steve looked at a frustrated Tony only to be met with a shake of his head and a whispered, “When a master assassin does not want to be found, he would not be so easily found. But when I do find him, don’t stop me from smashing his face in.”

The wedding was canceled with Steve announcing that the Bride was feeling unwell and was rushed to the doctors.

His footsteps were heavy as he braced himself to break the news to (Y/N) that her fiancé was nowhere to be found. As he pushed the door open, he was met with (Y/N) red-rimmed eyes, a look of utter defeat on her face.

With a tired and dejected smile and tears rimming her eyes, (Y/N) said, “He left, didn’t he?”

Steve looked at the girl, his own heart breaking at the sight in front of him. He made his way to her side and carefully wrapped his arm around her.

As (Y/N) rested her head on his shoulder she said, “I should’ve known he wouldn’t go through with today. He’s been avoiding me for some time now since the proposal. Since he’s started going to the new technician, Jenny, I think it was, to get his arm checked out, he’s gotten less chatty with me and always seemed preoccupied with his phone when I try to talk to him. I should’ve known those were signs, shouldn’t I, Steve? I was just lying to myself and telling myself that he couldn’t possibly have lost interest in me straight after proposing, could he?”

“Oh (Y/N), you couldn’t have known doll. It isn’t your fault, and would never be your fault.” Steve replied, landing a peck on her forehead.

His eyes flitted towards (Y/N) bridesmaid and saw the anger in their eyes. Natasha and Wanda were probably the closest thing each other has as sisters and were all fiercely protective of one another. They were forced to be reckoned with when angry and they were more than just - angry. But Bucky had Steve to worry about first. He was not going to let this slide like all the other times Bucky fucked up.

(Y/N) has been Steve’s best doll ever since he’s defrosted into the 21st century. She’s been there when Peggy left him, when the accords happened, when he was desperately trying to find and prove Bucky’s innocence and was there when his best friend needed someone. And here his best friend was, doing the worst possible thing he could do as a groom.

Steve has always known he loved the girl. But he’s decided to bury his feelings as he looked at Bucky’s and (Y/N) feelings for each other grow and blossom. He has always been the self-sacrificing type of man. But he was done self-sacrificing, not when his best doll was being left at the altar by the very man he vouched for.

Steve is going to fight what Steve wants. And he’s going to make his best friend regret ever giving up the best thing God’s given them.

Tagging: @itsanerdlife @buckysmusculararm @klaus-is-king @katbird787 @dryerpet @captainfbffangirl99 @thatawkwardtinyperson @cassandras-musings @cleverwatson125 @universal-glitch @draconicuchiha @frickin-bats @smile-sugar @ryverpenrad @buckyywiththegoodhair @buckyappreciationsociety @17marvelousfreak @seeyainanothalifebrotha @winchesterandpie @northscorpio @winter-is-ending @feelmyroarrrr @marvelouslyloki @melconnor2007 @fab-notfat @musichowler

Those who expressed interest in this particular fic: @orions-nebula @debzybrazy @jeleners143

It has been a long long time since my last fic and I’m sorry for the delay. Hope this was up to expectations, I am thinking to make this a multiple parts fic and was wondering if anyone would be interested? Please let me know. If there is little interest then I would most likely leave it as is, as sort of a bittersweet piece. If anyone would like to be tagged, or removed, just drop me an ask. Thank you!

For my other writings, search “Ting writes” on my Tumblr!”

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vanityrise · 6 years

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Family Matters: Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The pair arrive back at Vanessa’s with the cheesiest grins on their faces, Vanessa had never seen Charity so happy. She was smitten because she knew the major reason that Charity was so happy was her, a 41 year old Yorkshire vet. How could this be possible? Vanessa was never one to have much confidence in herself, but every second she was spending with Charity her confidence was growing and growing. “Got any wine babe?”, Charity asked. Vanessa was in a world of her own, lost in her thoughts. “Babe, hello earth to Vanessa...” Snapping out of her day dream Vanessa replied, “Sorry, i was miles away”. “Anywhere nice?” “I wish! A beach somewhere would be nice” “Can i join you?” “Hmmm not sure about that” joked Vanessa. “I was just thinking about the last couple of hours, i mean did they actually happen. Did you really buy me flowers and are we really an actual thing now?” “I know its hard to believe that me, a sarcastic ice queen can be romantic but i am trying”. “Just keep doing what you are doing because i find it a real turn on. Charity Dingle being soft and mushy... Yes please”. Walking towards Vanessa, Charity took of her suit jacket and threw it on the sofa. Reaching Vanessa, she grabbed her around the waist, pulled her closer and softly kissed her on the lips. “I can be soft and mushy as much as you like, as long as you don’t tell anyone”. “You’re secret is safe with me”. As the passion heats up, Charity helps Vanessa slip off her jumper, throwing it on the floor. She slowly undoes the buttons on Vanessa shirt caressing her body as she takes it off. Taking a big sigh Charity looking at Vanessa body says “Wow”. Vanessa whose cheeks were starting to turn red, starts to undo Charity’s blouse, this was a position Charity wasn’t used to being in, she was used to being in charge. With both their hearts racing, the kissing became more passionate, just as Charity gets ready to undo Vanessa’s bra strap, Frank bursts in the door with Johnny. The pair rush to cover up, “Dad have you ever heard of knocking? Vanessa shouted. “Well its not like he’s never seen me naked”, Charity Joked. “Sorry to interrupt ladies, but its Johnny, he has been struggling with his breathing”, said a concerned Frank. Vanessa rushing over to see her little boy notices that his face is very pale and his breathing is shallower than usual. “We need to get him to a doctor! I’m sorry, were gunna have to postpone tonight”. “Of course, right Frank go start the car, Ness give Johnny here while you get changed and well go get him checked ok! Everything’s going to be fine”. Charity said in a very calm tone. While Vanessa rushed to get changed she noticed Charity holding Johnny in close singing to him to keep him calm. In that moment Vanessa thought to herself, I am one lucky woman. “It’s ok sweetheart, mummy will be back any moment and we will go see the nice doctors”. “Right lets go” Vanessa said with authority. “You go get in the car ill lock up and be there in 2 minutes”. *** Over at the hospital Vanessa and co are waiting with Johnny to see a doctor to work out what’s wrong with him. It is very obvious that Vanessa is extremely worried, Charity reaches out and takes hold of her hand, kisses it and tells Vanessa “Everything is going to be ok, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere”. Vanessa turns to Charity and simple mouths “Thank you”. Johnny’s condition started to improve, but the doctors wanted to run some tests to try and figure out why his breathing suddenly went so shallow. It was currently 2 o’clock in the morning and Vanessa was still in with Johnny getting tests done. Frank decided that he really needed to get back to the village as he had work early in the morning, Charity decided to go with him so she could collect her car and come back to the hospital. They didn’t have time to tell Vanessa the plan. Tests had been completed, Vanessa and Johnny had been sent back to the waiting area to wait for the all clear. She opened the door to the room expecting to see both her father and her lover, yet the room was completely empty. Her face dropped, why would they leave? Especially at a time like this. Anger and disappointment covered Vanessa’s face, yet seeing her little boy back to his usual smiley self made a smile appear on her face. “I love you so much little man, you are my world. I know i can rely on you! Unlike some other people” Vanessa said looking lovingly at Johnny. A voice from behind her replies “I told you i wasn’t going anywhere, you can rely on me you know”. A shocked Vanessa turns her head to see Charity stood there with 2 coffees and Johnny’s favourite teddy bear. “I thought you’d gone?” Vanessa softly said. “Your Dad needed to go back so i asked for a lift so i could get my car and come straight back. I also thought that the little man would want his teddy. I would never leave you at a time like this.” “Thank you, i really don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you” Vanessa replied. “You might not be saying that down the line when I’ve done something wrong”, Charity joked. “Probably not, but right now you and Johnny are all i need.” “I’m right here”, Charity said as she put her arm around Vanessa and squeezed her tight. Time past and both Vanessa and Johnny were sound asleep being cuddled by Charity. The doctor eventually came out to let Vanessa know that Johnny may have a weak form of Asthma but right now to give him the all clear to go home. “Thank you so much doctor.” Said Vanessa shaking his hand, looking down at a sleeping Johnny she whispered, “lets get you home little man”. The three of them head home after a very stressful evening. *** Arriving back at Tug Ghyll, Charity tells Vanessa to go and put her feet up while she gets Johnny sorted in bed. She knew that Vanessa was emotionally drained after today so she wanted to take the pressure off her and allow her to relax. Tucking Johnny into bed she kisses him on the forehead and whispers, “sleep well little man, don’t ever scare me like that again”. Charity walks downstairs to find Vanessa asleep on the sofa, she finds a blanket and wraps her up warm. She kisses her on the forehead and sits down near to make sure she was there in case Vanessa needed anything. Morning came and Vanessa woke to find a very uncomfortable looking Charity, who had fallen asleep with her head resting on the kitchen table. Vanessa transferred the blanket Charity had used to keep her warm onto a sleeping Charity then goes to check on her little man.

#charity x vanessa #vanity #vanessa x charity #vanessa woodfield #charity dingle #emmerdale #fanfic #new chapter #family #love #lgbt

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techcrunchappcom · 3 years

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New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/live-blog-louisville-at-north-carolina/

Live Blog: Louisville at North Carolina

Despite the struggles this season, North Carolina has a chance to enter the final two weeks of the regular season on track to get one of the ACC Tournament’s coveted “double byes”.

The Tar Heels are currently tied with Clemson and Syracuse for fifth place in the ACC with a 7-5 conference record. A win over visiting Louisville on Saturday night would leapfrog the Heels into fourth place, and the top four teams won’t play until day three of the tournament.

UNC is coming off of a 20-point win over late schedule addition Northeastern, who responded to a Twitter request by the Tar Heels to schedule a midweek game in the Smith Center. The Heels are unbeaten at home at 7-0. They’ve won five of the last seven to move to 13-7 on the year and into consideration for an NCAA Tournament bid. The Heels have split their last four games, however, with road losses at Clemson and UVA.

Louisville has hit a skid after starting the year 9-1, 4-0 in the ACC. Starting in mid-January, the Cardinals have lost three of five to drop to 11-4, 6-3.

The Cardinals will be playing their first game in 19 days after a rash of positive COVID tests, including coach Chris Mack. Reportedly, Louisville had just two scholarship players available for a scheduled Feb. 16 game against Syracuse which was eventually postponed.

The Cardinals have confirmed that they won’t have everyone available Saturday night in the Dean Dome, but they haven’t released any information on who will or won’t play.

“We have a conflict right now with our medical people and the powers-that-be with their medical people. So right now I don’t know who’s going to be available for the game tomorrow,” Mack said in his Friday press conference.

The only player known not to make the trip was sophomore Aidan Igiehon, who is suffering from a non-COVID illness. The 6-foot-10 forward would have been helpful in matching UNC’s size and depth inside.

Louisville has 10 players participating in warmups. That’s out of 17 players listed on the team roster. So, outside of Igiehon, it looks like six guys are out due to testing and tracing

Tonight’s officials: Ron Groover, John Higgins, Jeb Hartness

Our sister site Louisville Report is … well … reporting … that Josh Nickelberry is out, and that the five Louisville walk-ons didn’t make the trip to Chapel Hill. So the Cardinals will be about as close to full strength as they could have hoped given the position the team was in a few days ago.

Same starters as usual for the Heels: Black, Love, Walton, Bacot, Brooks.

Very impressive play by Leaky Black. He stole a lob pass at the rim to break up a Louisville two-on-one, then fed Kerwin Walton for a three. UNC up early 3-2.

Bacot & Brooks each with four early points as UNC opens a seven-point lead.

Brooks gets the offensive rebound and is fouled going back up. That’s the second on Louisville’s Dre Davis. We hit the under 16 (at 14:18) with UNC up 14-9.

Brooks missed both free throws. Sharpe got the offensive rebound, missed a putback, then missed both of his free throws. Empty possession for Carolina, despite plenty of scoring opportunities.

Brooks hits 1-of-2 FT next time down. UNC is currently 1-of-6 from the line.

By the way, if you’re following the live stat feed, it is incorrect. It gave Sharpe credit for a putback he missed. UNC has 17 points, not 19.

They’ve corrected the feed. A foul on Louisville in the backcourt takes us to the under 12. UNC up 17-15.

UNC has missed 9-of-10 shots and Louisville ties it at 17.

Kessler 1-of-2 from the line. UNC now 2-of-8, leaving a lot of points on the floor.

Lot of standing around for UNC on that possession, but Walton bails them out with a three.

UNC has 10 offensive rebounds. Louisville has nine total rebounds.

Scrum for a loose ball gets called a held ball. At the under 8, UNC leads 23-19. Carolina in danger of wasting a pretty good half of basketball by letting Louisville hang around.

Potential trouble spot for Carolina (as Brooks misses another free throw), Louisville averages 17 three-point attempts per game. Currently just 1-for-3.

Back-to-back threes by Walton put UNC up 10. Tar Heels doing exactly what they need to late in the half (after I chided them for letting Louisville hang around)

Louisville doubling up UNC on points from free throws, despite taking six to UNC’s nine.

Kessler calls time after getting a steal on a deflected pass. UNC very active on defense in recent minutes. This should be the under four, with UNC up 35-25

Ca-Love gets in the passing lane and pick sixes one to make it a 14-point lead.

RJ Davis for three. Louisville airballs a three. And-one for Sharpe. Suddenly, it’s a 17-point game.

Oof. UNC with a steal and Love dunk at the buzzer, and the Heels take a 48-29 lead into the locker room. This was a four-point game at the under 8. Then the Heels just floored the accelerator.

Carolina just bullying the Ville inside. 26-16 on points in the paint, 9-0 on second chance points. And Heels also hit 6-of-13 threes.

After passing Michael Jordan last game, Kerwin Walton has now made more threes as a Tar Heel than Jerry Stackhouse

Carlik Jones with three straight steals. Led to one layup, one blocked layup by Love and one deflection out of bounds.

Louisville has missed its first four three-pointers of the half. Leaky Black commits a foul to send us to the under 16, UNC leads 52-35.

Louisville has taken 13 shots this half to UNC’s six, but they’ve each made five of them.

Sharpe converts his second off-balanced, falling-down layup of the game.

It was an and-one. Sharpe now 0-for-4 from the line, Brooks 1-of-5, UNC 2-of-11.

6-0 UNC run puts this game at a 23-point margin, 64-41. Louisville calls time, 12:36 to go.

UNC is 8-of-9 this half and has made six straight from the field.

Louisville’s Slazinski commits his third foul. Three other Cardinals have two. At the under 12, it’s 64-44 Heels.

Bacot with six quick points to help spark an 8-0 UNC run. It’s a 28-point game.

Withers picks up his third foul. At the under eight, UNC leads 72-44 and is going to the line.

Louisville has lost its three ACC games by a combined 23 points. Currently down 28. UNC has won its seven ACC games by a combined 40 points. Currently up 28.

Kessler on the floor and Walton gets blindsided by a screen. Roy Williams criticized Kessler a couple games ago for not calling out screens

Davis helped off the floor and is being looked at by Louisville medical staff. Maybe a hip, based on where he’s looking?

Davis rubbing his thigh, so it might just be a cramp. Trainer doesn’t seem too concerned.

Kessler with back-to-back buckets. 12-0 UNC run. Score is 89-50. Time out Louisville just under four minutes to play.

KJ Smith gets clobbered by a screen. And yes, Kessler is in the game.

Not sure if biscuits is still a thing, but Heels have missed three layups that would put them over 100.

Sterling Manley at the scorers table, but Roy Williams sends him back to the bench.

Heels dribble out a 99-54 blowout win to move into fourth place.

#carolina #louisville #north #Sports

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