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cheapshrimpysheep · 3 days

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hi, is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons where Leona, vil and rook(separately) has a s/o who starts randomly wearing gloves and hiding their hands from them due to getting really bad contact dermatitis from their work and not really able to do anything about it work wise

COMMENTS: Coincidentally, I myself have problems with dermatitis on my hands. So, perhaps what I wrote comes a lot from my own experience. Especially the thing about using an ointment that worked once and for some reason no longer works. 😅 And having some trouble sleeping because of the itching.

I hope you and all enjoy it ❤️‍🩹

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar / Vil Schoenheit / Rook Hunt

TAGS: Comfort; Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 610 words per character

Contact dermatitis is an itchy, inflamed rash that develops when your skin comes into contact with an irritant or allergen. There are two main types: Irritant contact dermatitis and Allergic contact dermatitis.

I decided to go with the first one since Irritant contact dermatitis is the most common type. It's caused by a substance that irritates the skin, such as soaps, detergents, solvents, or harsh chemicals.

CONTEXT: You got dermatitis after cleaning Ramshackle Dorm. It's not the first time, you already had it before, so you think you know how to treat it. Nobody needs to know. So you will take care of your hands at home and whenever you go out you will wear gloves to try to protect them. You'll be fine in no time... Right...?

Leona knew something was wrong the moment he saw you wearing gloves. Nobody starts wearing gloves out of nowhere just because. But he didn't need to ask anything because he saw you moving your hands as if those gloves were uncomfortable. And once or twice he saw you scratching your hands through your gloves and stopping immediately as if you had remembered that you shouldn't do it.

He wasn't going to get involved. At least not if it looked like you were getting better. But on the second day, you still itched. And on the third day, you had bigger dark circles than usual and the itching seemed the same or worse.

You had just returned to Ramshackle Dorm and the first thing you did was take off your gloves and run to the bathroom to treat your hands. Why didn't that get better? You were using the same ointment as last time.

“You should go to the infirmary.” Grim said “Hench-humans should take better care of themselves so they are always ready.” He teases you before showing actual concern. “You're not even sleeping well. I wake up to you scratching yourself every five minutes.”

You won't admit it, but he's right. You should go to the infirmary. Maybe tomorrow. That's what you're thinking when you hear someone knocking on the door. But you can't cover your hands now, the ointment is still working. So you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Show me your hands.” Leona demands calmly. You look surprised and confused. “Show me your hands.” he reiterates, crossing his arms but still patient.

“Why?” you ask.

“Why are you hiding them?” he asks back. “If everything is normal, why don't you show me?” and smiles smugly.

I mean, he's right. Who opens the door with one hand behind their back. This is very suspicious. You hesitate, but end up stretching your arms in front of you to show your red hands and unhealthy skin.

But Leona isn’t surprised. He barely even reacts. As if you had just confirmed his suspicions. He takes off one of his own gloves and puts it in his pocket, holding one of your hands with his gloved hand while he runs the other carefully over your broken skin, to feel it. Does he know it's not contagious?

“The ointment isn't working, is it?” He sais. You had just put it in your hand, so he definitely felt the moist. He puts the glove back on. “Do you have your keys?”

You say they are on the entrance table.

“So grab them and let's go. Unless you want to be locked out of the dorm.”

“Let’s go where?”

“To the herbivores club party. To the infirmary. Where else? If you don't go there alone, someone has to take you. Don't tell me you forgot where it is?” he smiles smugly again. “And don't make me pick you up. You know I would.”

Vil saw your new gloves. Were you trying to change your style a little? No. That's not it. You were uncomfortable with those gloves. He knows about fashion, the same way he knows when a person is using a piece to hide some part of their body.

After classes you went back to Ramshackle Dorm, took off your gloves and applied the ointment. It had worked last time, but this time it didn't seem to be having any effect. You had just come out of the bathroom, with your hands smeared with pumice, when someone knocked on the door. Damn it.

You can't cover your hands now, so you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Hello (Y/N)” Vil greets you. “I apologize for the sudden appearance, but can I come in to talk to you about something?”

You think for a second, you can keep hiding your hands behind your back, so you tell him he can come in. He enters and you close the door behind you, always hiding your hands.

“You've never used gloves before. It's not your style.” It didn't sound like he was criticizing you, like he tends to do with a lot of people. In fact, he sounded quite calm and neutral, almost understanding. “If there's one thing I know how to distinguish when someone starts using a new accessory, it's whether they're using it to try to improve their appearance or to hide themselves. And this second one tends to be a sensitive subject. That's why I thought it would be best to ask you in private. Did something happen to your hands? Are you injured?”

You tell him no, that you're not injured. Well, not exactly in that sense of the word at least. You end up telling him the truth about your skin and how it has reacted to cleansing products.

“Dermatitis? Let me see. I want to know how bad it is.” He now has that judgmental look on his eyes. Which makes you hesitate a little, but you are now also at the point of no return.

You take your hands from behind your back and show Vil your red hands and unhealthy skin, without being able to look him directly in the eyes.

“For the Great Seven! And you let your skin reach this point?” he scolds you. “When did this happen? Have you gone to the infirmary already?”

You say you went there the last time this happened and they gave you an ointment, which was what you were applying.

“And is it having any effect?” He asks. You say that, compared to last time, not really. “Then get ready to go to the infirmary.” He thinks for a second if you should protect your hands from the sun, which reminds him of the gloves he saw you wearing that day. “Let me see the gloves you were wearing.”

You go get the gloves and give them to him. He looks at you disapprovingly as soon as he picks them up.

“These cheap gloves? This material is horrendous! It's probably making your situation even worse.” He throws the gloves onto the entrance table. If there had been a rubbish bin there he would have thrown it in there. He takes off his own gloves and hands them to you. “Here, use mine. They are cotton inside.” You hesitate. His gloves? And they must be expensive. “You can keep them. I have many more like these.”

As you put on his gloves, he details his new plans with you.

“We will go to the infirmary and you will hear everything they told you to do and use. After that, we will review all your cleaning products and materials you use that come into contact with your hands and can create this reaction again. If we have to get rid of everything and buy new products we will do so.” You look at him and show your concern about the price of these possible new products. “If they are truly that expensive, I'll buy them for you. Your hands won't go back to this state on my watch. And then you come with me to Pomefiore to analyze your skin and find products to protect and care for your hands. Did you understood?”

Que Adorable! Rook thinks. Trickster really thought they could hide something from me? That really entertain him. Seeing you wearing gloves and trying to hide how uncomfortable you were wearing them and trying not to scratch your hands too much. You reminded him of an animal that tries to hide the fact that it is seriously injured.

Even though it was funny at first, he couldn't see you like this. He assumed what it was from the symptoms you show, but he didn't want to talk to you in front of others. After all, if you were trying to hide it, it's because he didn't want others to know.

He sneakily followed you to Ramshackle Dorm. You opened the door, letting Grim enter first to run to the kitchen for some snacks. You pass the door jamb and it's when you go to close the door that you hear

“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook’s head pops from the side. He lets out a little muffled laugh at how startled you were. “I spotted yor new pair of glove on your hands. Are you perhaps trying a new look? Merveilleux! It's exciting to try out new accessories to express another side of ourselves, isn't it? However...” His friendly look now changes to that hunter look of his. And the smile of someone who cannot be deceived. “I don't believe that's the real motive you're wearing those gloves. Am I mistaken?”

You don't even know how to answer him. He already knows the truth and you know there's nothing you can do about it. His expression returns to normal, he now has that characteristic resting smile on his face.

“There's no need to be shy with me. I purposely came to talk to you here because I knew it wasn't something you wanted to discuss in public.” And now his smile has faded into that slightly more serious look that he only tends to have when something worries him a little, or when he feels that the situation is not so light. “I saw how you itched your hands, how uncomfortable you were with the gloves. It's a skin problem, isn't it? Maybe dermatitis?”

You don't say anything. It's not necessary. He knows the answer just by looking at you, your face, your posture. And your hands were starting to itch again.

“Please, you can take off your gloves. They are clearly only making your situation worse.” You hesitate. “It really hurts me to see you suffering like this. No matter how damaged your skin is, I know that your hands are as beautiful as the rest of you and that they just need treatment to become très belles again. And if you allow me to help with your recovery, I will do so with the greatest love and care.” He smiles charmingly at you, the type of smile that makes you feel safe.

You take off your gloves, showing him your red hands and unhealthy skin.

“Sacrebleu! What did this to your hands?”

You tell him it was your cleaning products and about the ointment you were using since the last time that happened to you. And, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be having much effect this time.

“We must go to the infirmary if it's not working anymore.” He proclaims, embodying his dramatic self. “Ooh, your poor, beautiful hands, threatened by something that should assist you caring for your home and yourself. They must be replaced. I will happily help you with it and get you gloves that will protect you in the future. Fear not, my dear Trickster. Shall your hands be healthy once again.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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angelofsmalldeaath · 3 days

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Hiii, same anon that requested the bath time with Andrew here…I loved it so much, thank you for taking the time to write it!!

I don’t want to bother you with requests and all but I just came with this concept/idea and felt the need to share it with you.

Andrew is a big dog lover (we have proof of that) and so is his s/o. They have Elwood from time to time but after he returns to his parents the house feels different so they adopt a new dog. After a few weeks, his s/o thinks that another one won’t hurt them…Andrew thinks otherwise. She doesn’t listen to him and brings another dog to the house. The man can’t say no to her so they live happily with two furry friends. But that’s not the end, she keeps seeing dogs around the property and brings them with her. She tries to find good houses/owners that could keep them but some doggies are too old or very wounded so she prefers to keep them around. Andrew has been on tour for the majority of the last adoptions 😅 and when he gets home he founds his s/o with the two “”original”” dogs and three more. He witness how she bakes something and the dogs are around her keeping her company…making his heart melt at the same time he accepts she’s going to keep them coming and he’s not that mad about it 🥺❤️

Sorry this is so long!! You don’t have to write it or anything, I would love if you do but please don’t feel pressured to…I just needed to share!

oh my god!!! my heart!! 😭

i tweaked this a little and this is much shorter since this is only a continuation of your ask, hope you like it tho!!

cw: very brief mentions of animal cruelty but absolutely nothing in detail

he comes home to an unexpected dog barking at him.

he knows their dogs know him, they would never do that—but this is not "their" dog. and before he can say anything, she comes running out the door, smiling sheepishly, guilt written all over her face.

"sir meatball!" she scolds him gently and the old dog whines like a puppy would, all sweet and gentle and nuzzling her leg. she pats his head.

"sir meatball?" he asks, about to say something more when another (unfamiliar once again) dog comes running out. this one's bigger than the last, this one's got crazy eyes and a loud bark and an almost feral face when she crouches down and scratches his head.

like magic the dog calms down and yips—chirpy little puppy yips that sound so odd coming from a dog his size.

"and this is bruce," she says, wringing her hands.

"bruce and sir meatball," he raises an eyebrow, utterly clueless. "have i...did i come back to some alternate universe?"

"no i..." she scrunches her eyes shut, shaking her head. "right, i have a good reason, i promise!"

"oh no..."

"oh yes!"

and then he has no choice really...he leaves his bags by the door, follows her inside and settles on the settee, waiting for this explanation, trying to maintain a poker face (which does freak her out a little bit more and makes her ramble before she can launch into a proper explanation.)

"so i found sir meatball—and i didn't name him, it was on his collar—abandoned. i called the number too and talked to the most vile man ever," her face twists into an expression of disgust and he tries to hide a smile. "the man, ugh, the man said, and i quote 'you can keep him for all i care, my son don't want a useless, fat, old dog anymore.' can you imagine?! he's not useless! he's a sweetheart!"

he tries not to show it on his face, but his heart melts then. "and bruce?"

"he's a rescue, from a dog fighting ring—"

"why were you at a dog fighting ring?!"

"i wasn't!" she protests, "someone at work told me about him, they rescued him and couldn't keep him and he needed a loving home and i couldn't let him go back to the shelters! they would have put him down for being 'too aggressive'. he's not, he's a sweetheart too, i prom—"

"darling, breathe..." he moves to sit next to her, places a hand on her knee in an effort to calm her down. "i—"

"you won't make me send them to other families, will you?"

her eyes are huge, shiny too like she's three seconds away from bursting into tears and oh if he were even capable of saying no to her in the first place, that one expression...that would have got him.

"i won't," he sighs, "of course not, baby, i'd never do that."

"i love you, i love you, i love you," she hugs him tightly, mumbling i love yous and thank yous until he laughs and hugs her back. the she pulls away and bites her lip. "there's lila too...she's a little shy..."

"oh god, have you adopted an actual child?"

"no!" she giggles, "lila is a golden retriever, she's very old but she's so shy. she's loves our first two dogs though. they're probably in the backyard. do you want to meet them?"

he sighs deeply, closes his eyes for a long minute. "do i have a choice?"

she doesn't answer...she just grabs his hands and pulls him off the settee. and without asking any more questions, he simply follows.

#hozier #hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #andrew hozier byrne x reader #requests #hozier fluff #writblr #writeblr #writers on tumblr

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