Oh, yes, hi!! This seems to be like a nice place to feed my whumpy cravings! May i please have and order of whumpee waking up in a hospital and finding himself in a hospital gown (maybe a bit of self consciousness about it) and caretaker comforting him through it?
Hello! Sure you can order that, and thank you for choosing the Whump Drive-Thru!
Returning to Self-consciousness
TW: Past torture referenced, bruises, hospital setting, body image problems?
Blurred shapes and dark spots danced in his vision, and phantom shapes slowly came into focus as Whumpee sat up on the bed.
Wait. Bed? He didn't have a bed, Whumper had made sure of that. Not even a dingy mattress, just the harsh, old ceramic of his makeshift cell, which looked nothing like wherever he was now. The whole place was bathed in a sterile white, bright lights overhead, white tiling and no other colours besides the cool silver of the steel bedframe and pale greyish blue accents on the walls to break up the white.
More prominently, there were no handcuffs biting into his wrists, and from the steady beeping of machines and the IV drip hooked into his arm, he realised he was in a hospital.
Why the hell would Whumper bring him to a hospital? Trying to keep him alive so his plaything would last a little longer? Whumpee shuddered at the thought, crossing his bare arms and rubbing up and down them with his fingers.
He looked down to notice he was dressed in just a flimsy hospital gown, the fabric ridiculously easy to tear if he so much as moved wrong, and even though it was probably insignificant compared to the possibility that Whumper would walk in, it still made him uncomfortable to be dressed in something so annoyingly light, all his scars and bruises and clear malnourishment exposed where the gown didn't cover. And the fabric felt like goddamn paper, far too tempting to just rip off and snarl in rage.
A soft knock on the door startled Whumpee out of his bitter reverie, the sudden shock throwing him back against the headboard. He wasn't sure he could stomach Whumper's voice ringing in his ears again.
Upon noticing it was Caretaker who walked in, Whumpee visibly relaxed, shoulders sagging, breath slowing and his white-knuckled grip on the nightstand slackening.
"Hey kid," his adoptive brother crooned softly, his word of choice ironic considering there wasn't really a significant age difference between them, "how are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, Caretaker," he said evenly, trying for a weak smile, face awfully reminiscent of an paper bag with how fast his smile seemed to crumble.
Caretaker's smile disappeared, his eyebrows knitting together. "Hey, talk to me. You're clearly not okay, Whumpee."
Whumpee let out a soft, dejected sigh. If he could lie to anyone in the world, Caretaker was the one exception. "I'm scared," he started, voice small, hugging his knees up to his chest, "I'm scared he's gonna find me again. I'm scared he knows I'm here. And it's so dumb but -" he took in a shallow breath, Caretaker nodding at him encouragingly, "I hate this stupid goddamn hospital gown," he snarled, feeling surprisingly lighter at having voiced his grievances.
"Ah yeah those are absolutely diabolical, it's like wearing a big, fat sheet of paper," he groaned, and Whumpee involuntarily smiled in spite of himself.
"I'll see if we can talk to staff about getting you a heavier gown if they've got one. And I get it, you don't want anyone seeing the effects of what that bastard did to you, and that right now words might be a little empty, but there's no shame in what you've endured, Whumpee."
Caretaker took a seat beside Whumpee on the hospital bed, the mattress dipping a little under the extra weight, carding his fingers through his brother's hair, resisting the urge to wince at how ridiculously bony and hard Whumpee's frame had become, not wanting to make him feel worse. "And about that monster that messed with you, whatever his name is," he started, the usually warm hazel eyes going dark and cold in an instant.
"Whumper," the younger man said tentatively.
"Yeah, him," Caretaker spat, disgusted, "he won't get to you, Whumpee. And if he so much as bloody thinks about trying, my friends and I will rip him to shreds."
Whumpee nodded carefully. He may have still been nervous, but he had to admit he's calmer than he was before Caretaker walked in. His adoptive brother was usually a little rough around the edges, but deep down, he was ultimately as gentle and caring as ever.
"You'll be okay, big guy. I know you will," Caretaker said, ruffling his hair a little aggressively and wrapping his arm around Whumpee's shoulders, making him smile again.
Life isn't perfect. It kicks you to the ground when you least expect it, it bites and draws blood and leaves scars in its wake. But even through all this struggle, just a single, helping hand is enough to get you through even the most treacherous of challenges.
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A stylus lightly scratched across the surface of a tablet. Cloud was quietly answering questions on the screen as he leaned back against the General's broad chest. He stayed like this for a while before suddenly stopping. His brows knitted slightly. "General? Is this really paperwork you need me to help with?"
He didn't mind, but at the same time, Cloud had a feeling there was a different reason why he was answering these forms that (supposedly) Sephiroth was originally supposed to do. He lifted his head to look at the man questioningly. "Don't you need me to help with something else?"
Sephiroth had been absently lost in thought as he filled out yet another form from yet another large stack of papers. The paperwork truly did seem endless at times and he found it all quite tedious when he was by far better suited to actual fieldwork. However, due to his rank he found that the boring bureaucracy of Shinra's daily workings consumed more of his time than things he actually saw as being more productive.
Put simply: it was boring.
Somehow though, he'd managed to find himself in such a position he had help in such a task and while it wasn't necessary he saw it as a good enough reason to give a particular cadet a second chance and to shield him from would be attackers. At times such as these he often did find himself wondering how much longer Cloud would be content with this type of work before he too grew restless and wished to return to his normal duties.
Not that he could blame the blond for those feelings as he too would've liked to be away from the paperwork, but unlike Cloud he didn't have the option to cut himself away from it completely. It would be a lie to say that he wouldn't find himself missing the cadet's company as he'd genuinely become a fixture in the office and strangely enough the blond had become the closest person to him. Of course that was only on the most superficial of levels as they had an oddly formal and informal relationship all at once, one that would likely make no logical sense to anyone else but the two of them.
“I'm afraid the paperwork is all that I have available for you to work on for the time being.” He paused in his own writing and set his pen down before turning his head to study the blond. “Unless you would rather attend to some of your other duties outside of this office. Perhaps you'd rather be out training?”
hi!! can i please have a cup with three scoops of cookies and cream with koko choo-choos clusters, chocolate gems, and hot fudge for frank and nancy? thank you!
order up! three scoops of cookies & cream with koko choo-choo clusters, chocolate gems, and hot fudge in a cup for @mycozylittlecorner
what’s this...? a double order! i guess cookies & cream is a popular flavor! two scoops of cookies & cream and chocolate in a cup for @ladylindaaa
order notes: there’s only one bed + friends to lovers + “why are you looking at me like that?” + “if you’re gonna kiss me, then do it” with frank and nancy
total: 2,147 words
special notes: kinda combined these two requests (with permission! i’ll always ask permission beforehand) since they’re pretty much the same (with chocolate being the confession prompt, and i feel a confession is built into the friends to lovers automatically). also this is really funny because i’m a hardcore nedcy shipper, but i like a challenge! frank’s a good dude.
Nancy had been halfway through her nighttime routine when there was a knock on her hotel room door. Although she had learned throughout the years that she needed to be careful when on a case--especially one with higher risks, and she had admittedly been pestering people earlier that day during her own investigation--she thought little of it as she made her way over to peep through the spyhole. On the other side was the familiar face of Frank Hardy, no Joe anywhere to be seen, and she unlatched and unlocked the door almost immediately, happy to greet him. His hands had been nervously jammed into his pockets, and she then noticed the duffel bag hanging off of his shoulder.
“Hey, uh, Nancy?” He immediately said, “Can I stay in your room? Just for tonight, I swear.” Before she could answer, he continued on, “Joe kicked me out since the room we got was just a queen, and the place is full for tonight. I’m gonna try again in the morning,” he scratched at the back of his neck. “Sorry. I can go find somewhere else--”
“It’s fine,” she said, stepping out of the way to let him in. “I only have a chair, actually, but you can take the bed. I'll be fine.”
“Hey, I’m the one imposing,” he crossed the threshold, setting his bag on the floor. “It’s your room. I’ll be fine in a chair for one night.”
“Frank, it’s fine. I insist.”
“Nancy...” He sighed, and shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”
Despite the urge to argue back a bit more, Nancy merely nodded and went back to her routine. There was this itching urge underneath her skin to ask what he and Joe had discovered during their investigation, and yet she held back. Both of them knew they’d never hear the end of it from Joe if they discussed the case without him. So... What else was there? She should say something--she had this gut feeling that it’d just be awkward if they didn’t talk. Yet there was a weird feeling that lingered in the pit of her stomach, quiet and gnawing hard. For a moment, her mind flitted to what she’d heard from Bess and George after she and Ned finally split almost six months prior to this case. Although they agreed to be friends (she had even called Ned earlier that day, getting some information regarding medicine she had found while investigating someone’s room... admittedly after she lured them away), there was still a pang in her heart whenever she heard about his own process of seeing other people. They both agreed to split while he was busy with med school and she was still traveling and solving mysteries, but it felt weird at times to think of him as just a friend--especially one who had recently gotten back into the dating game while she was still trying to figure everything out for herself. She left a part of herself with Ned, if she was honest, and it still felt weird to consider seeing other people despite the fact that it had been something they’d talked about.
What was it about Frank Hardy that made her mind spin webs more intricate than a spider’s?
Nancy dismissed the thought and the burning implications underneath it, and shoved aside the fact Bess had teased her while she was packing to fly out because of the fact she’d be with the two Hardys. She looked up from the bathroom, senses overcome with mint and the faint scent of her shampoo that hung in the air, and to where she could see Frank in the hallway mirror looking around her desk. Her case file had been left open, pen rolled away from it, and he’d found her notebook (which had, too, been left open) with her running list of suspects and clues she’d found. Her bag was left open, a letter she’d found (stolen, she mentally corrected, but it’d been too juicy to leave behind) unfolded.
“If you want to look through what I found, you can,” she called out, and watched him look up.
He merely nodded, reading over some of her notes “How’s Ned been?”
Right. She had written something about calling Ned--and crossed it out after she did. “He’s been pretty good,” she said, and it’d been completely true--especially considering he was a med student with a job. “Tired, but he’s handling it well.”
“You two still talk?”
She hummed, organizing her things back into their proper places. “Of course we still talk. Just because we broke up doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
“I know.” He sounded a bit distant, before clearing his throat. “Have you, uh, tried seeing anyone else?”
Nancy stepped out of the bathroom, looking over to where Frank was idly leafing through her notebook. “Not yet. I guess I just wasn’t ready.”
“That’s fair,” he said. “Take your time. Your comfort is important, after all.”
She smiled at him, and didn’t know that his heart skipped a beat at that. “Thanks, Frank.” She walked over, reaching out to gently tug the notebook from his grasp. “Bess doesn’t think so, though. She thinks I should at least get on an app or something.”
“Bess is that kind of person,” he said. “What about Ned?”
She shrugged. “He started seeing someone. It’s nothing serious yet, but...”
“But you’re jealous.”
“I’m not,” she said. “I just feel like I should be moving on already.” Nancy set the notebook down, walking over toward the bed, “It’s just hard, you know? Ned knew how all of this worked. He supported me,” she sat down. “It’s just hard to find someone when my life takes me everywhere.”
“I know the feeling.” Frank pulled out the chair, sinking into it. “I don’t see how Joe does it.”
“Joe’s dating?”
“You didn’t know?” Frank looked up. “I mean... He's not dating anyone officially, but he’s been going out when we’re back home. He keeps trying to drag me on double dates with some girl he thinks is my soulmate.” He rolled his eyes. “I keep telling him I’m interested in someone else, but Joe’s... Joe.”
“Who is she?”
Frank swallowed hard, looking away, and Nancy swore she could see the color rising to his cheeks. He drummed his fingers against his leg, hesitant to respond for a few moments. “Just... Someone I’ve known for a while.”
There was a small ache in her chest that Nancy was unsure about, but dismissed as merely being her own underlying desire for romance. “Frank,” she said, dragging out his name with a pout. “Come on. Tell me something about her.”
“You don’t want to hear about my love life.”
“I do. You’re still my friend, Frank. Just because my love life is kind of weird doesn’t mean you can’t talk about your own.” She reached behind her, pulling the closest pillow into her lap. “You don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to. I just thought...”
He breathed in and let out a long sigh, nodding to himself before sitting up. “She’s...” He trailed off, choosing his words carefully. “She’s really smart, and we get along really well.”
“Well, that’s good. She sounds like you’re type, I guess.”
“Yeah. She... She is.”
Frank went quiet. Nancy looked up, noticing that he had been staring at her with a look that reminded her of how Ned looked at her. Her breath hitched slightly, uncertainty beginning to seep in. She looked away, realizing she had left her phone in the bathroom, and hopped up to retrieve it as Frank looked away, nervously scratching at the back of his neck. Nancy escaped the awkward moment by excusing herself to go to bed, turning off the lamps next to her bed and crawling in, only to end up listening to Frank as he moved around the room. The sounds of the shower cutting on and off. The sound of Frank pulling down a spare blanket from the closet and curling up in the chair.
Nancy sat up, looking at the uncomfortable curled up position he had managed to get into. “Frank?”
He hummed, looking up. “What’s wrong?”
“Just... get over here.” She said, nodding to the other half of the bed. “You’re going to feel awful when you wake up if you sleep like that.”
“Nancy--”
“We’re friends, right?” She forced a smile, despite the weird pain in the pit of her stomach at the word. “It’s fine.”
He sighed, and something about the weariness must have made him agree. She could hear the sound of his joints popping as he stood up, heading over to lie down under the blankets next to her. She turned away, staring at the wall, and listened to the sound of his breathing.
“Hey, Frank?”
“Yeah?”
“Why’d Joe kick you out?”
He shifted behind her, bed creaking and blankets rustling at the movement. “It’s stupid. You don’t need to hear about it.”
“Well... You two are brothers. It feels like you two wouldn’t care about sharing a bed for the night. Did something happen?” She turned over to face him, watching him in the low light. “You can tell me.”
He looked away, and sat up, the blankets falling into his lap. “It’s... It’s really stupid, Nancy.”
“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” Nancy sat up. “Did you two fight?”
“Not really.” He sighed. “He just said I need to stop waiting and say something before I lose my chance to.”
“Frank?”
The room fell quiet as he looked back at her, that same look on his face from earlier that made something within her yearn. The softness in his gaze, the way his hands fiddled idly when he glanced away for just a second: it reminded her of the way she’d seen guys look at Bess before, and the way Ned used to look at her. The answer was right within her grasp, and yet it felt too farfetched to go on without saying something. Yet her throat felt dry, like the words refused to come to her and ask him to say what’s on his mind exactly.
Finally, she took a breath, gaze not breaking away from him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
Like Ned did. Like there’s something else between us. “Like... Like you want to kiss me,” she said, her mind setting on it, and she kicked herself for saying it immediately.
“I...”
So she took a leap and smiled at him. “If you’re going to kiss me, then do it.”
He blinked at her in the low light, brows knitting together. And then his eyes went wide, lips slightly parted as her name fell from his lips. She didn’t know why she said it, other than the tiny urge inside of her pushing. To let herself move on and live for a bit, to take a chance on someone who made her feel butterflies in a good way. She leaned in, and something seemed to click in his mind as he, too, leaned in. He met her half-way, lips pressed softly against her own for a moment. Her eyes fluttered shut, and Frank reached up to brush back a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before pulling away.
He stammered for a moment, face flushed as he finally looked away from her. “Nancy, I...” He trailed off, and cleared his throat.
“I want to try this. Dating, I mean.” She said, voice clear and set. “If that’s what you want, I mean.”
“Yes!” He turned back to her, and then he realized how eager he had sounded. “I mean--Yes. I’d... I’d like that a lot. When we get back, I mean.”
She laughed, and he was already falling in love with the sound all over again. “I want to know. How long?”
“A few years?” He said. “I mean, it’s kind of a blur. Back in Hawaii, I think, is when it really started.”
“Oh, Frank,” she frowned. “I’m sorry I went to you about Ned and I then--”
“No! No, you... You didn’t know, Nance.” He said. “If you were happy with Ned, I wasn’t going to get in the way. All I really wanted was for you to be happy.” He looked away, face still flushed from what she could tell. The slant of light peeking in from the curtains was enough to give it away. “Even if that’s not with me. I care about you, Nancy.”
Nancy smiled, reaching over to place her hand over his. “I care about you too. We can talk about this more in the morning.”
And for the final time that night, he looked at her again with that same tenderness in his eyes, and the shyest smile she’d ever seen him have. “Yeah,” he said, still smiling at her. “Goodnight, Nancy.”
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