#How do I check for cat fever?

[petdogs]

How to Take Your Cats Body Temperature

Taking your cat's temperature is the only surefire method to determine if it is feverish. If the cat is not resisting you, the entire procedure ought to take just a few minutes. Most cats typically have a body temperature of 100.5 to 102.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Depending on other symptoms, a trip to the veterinarian can be necessary in cases with a higher fever. Read Here...

[witheredgardenparty]

*slowly clawing out of the fever cold I gave myself by over overworking* Okay well now that I'm feeling better, it's time to hunker down on all this work that I couldn't do while I was sick

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲? || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one || part two: Suddenly, we have a baby || part three: Dharma

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲- what was supposed to be a date between you and Miguel, ends up being a night to babysit Mayday. Was it enough to unleash a baby fever? 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- nah, just fluff. clingy!reader x grumpy!Miguel + cute!Mayday, implied age gap (legal) and implied short reader (I’m 5’2, this man can ruin me), implied sex and baby talks. NO PROOFREAD!!. 𝐀/𝐍_PLEASE, listen lover and false God along this!!!!

♪ ♫ my miguel playlist. ✰ index (masterlist/ other works there)

______________

Irritant and cute giggles.

That’s all Miguel keeps hearing. He’s fixated on the screens of his office. At some point, he checks to see how his new white and red suit is doing.

But every damn time, he gets distracted by some giggles.

Until the giggles turn into strong waves of laughter, he turns, visibly annoyed.

Peter is holding Mayday, and you are seated across them and erupting into laughter once Mayday imitates some growling sounds from you and Peter.

Okay, the sight looked and sounded adorable. Mainly because it was you making the baby laugh and make funny sounds. But Miguel had work to do…

“Hey!. You three, out. You’re annoying me,” Miguel spits out. Peter, Mayday, and you turn to see the man.

“Someone’s being grumpy…” Miguel sees you exchange mocking looks with the little girl. And Peter is only there existing.

Then you stand up, and with a little jump, you’re on his floating station/desk, whatever.

He feels you tickle his rib, so he looks down on you.

You are telling him to lean down a little. So he does.

You stand on your tiptoes and smash his cheek with a kiss.

“See you at home?” You ask.

Peter nor Mayday can’t see it, but Miguel has a hand on the small of your back; his way of saying I love you, be safe. Because he couldn’t be utterly soft around the workplace.

“Say bye to the bitter man, Mayday,” you say, taking the baby from Peter’s arms.

The three of you started leaving with another long wave of laugh and chuckles.

Of course a pain in the ass for Miguel.

…

Later that day, a mission was successfully accomplished. Miguel had gone to a different one with Jessica, Lyla, lego Spider-man, and Spider-cat (his low-key favorite interns).

On the other hand, he was impatiently waiting for you to come back and go home together. He was in the mood to spend some time at your place.

It was your grandparent's house, and it was beyond cozy. Miguel had to admit that living on futuristic Earth was excellent. Still, even when your home could be considered as yesteryear, it was better.

However, he could not see the time to leave because he couldn’t find you anywhere.

He even started to worry something had happened.

Hobie, Gwen, Miles, Peter, and Mayday weren’t Miguel's best options for missions. But… they were your family.

“Why the pout?” Suddenly, Jess appeared at his side. Miguel ignored her and kept walking through the long hallway. Some spider people greeted him and Jess, she made brief conversations, and Miguel only sent them nods.

“I’m not pouting…” he answered finally.

“You are.”

“No.” Jess chuckled, rubbing her giant belly.

Miguel gave her a quick glance. Realizing that her coworker was heavily pregnant. It had been some rough months, especially after the events that Miles brought to everyone in the HQ. So for Jess, it must’ve been worse.

“Have you seen y/n?” He asked.

“She’s been here for some hours now. She contained the anomaly with Peter and the others” Then where the hell were you?

Suddenly, a loud noise came from the cafeteria.

Miguel and Jess exchanged some looks before walking all over the hallways that would lead them to the cafeteria.

The scene was… interesting.

Hobie was driving the spider-car, you on the passenger seat with Mayday in your arms and spider-plushie on your shoulder.

In the backseat, Miles and Gwen were laughing and looking back.

And chasing the car, Peter B. Parker tries to catch everyone with a poor running pace.

Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t complain. You married a younger woman…” said Jess laughing at the sight.

Soon, the car disappeared through another hallway, with Peter screaming to stop the vehicle.

“I’m not complaining. But-“ he wouldn’t say it out loud, but Miguel loved you just like you were. He wouldn’t change anything for you.

“I’m not gonna be here soon. You gotta be conscious that you’ll deal with them all alone.”

“I know…” you had a mature side that Miguel enjoyed regarding safety, health, and serious decisions. But he also loved that you remained optimistic most of the time.

And he couldn’t blame you. Back home, you had few real friends, only two girlfriends, and your family.

Both girls were shocked to learn that you were engaged less than half a decade after high school. But they were so supportive, and they accepted Miguel. Same story for your family.

Then spending time with his least favorite coworkers made you happy. So Miguel could handle the annoying moments. Just for you…

“Tell me if I’m trespassing. But… What do you do together? It’s still unbelievable that you two are married.” Miguel gives her a stern look. He doesn’t like to discuss his private (nor public) life with you, but somehow Jess wasn’t a burden of questions like Peter or Miles and Gwen.

“She likes cooking, so we either go to restaurants or cook together. Then she likes spending hours at this giant library near her place,” Jess smiles. Knowing how much you liked spending time between pages and pages.

“So you’re a pleaser. Interesting…”

“Jess…” Miguel warned her. Jessica laughed harder, giving up.

“Okay, okay, sorry. It’s just that… she seems like… the opposite of you. But it also seems like it works well.”

“It does,” he accepts, allowing himself to smile very little.

“Are you taking her on a date this weekend?”

“We haven’t been on a date since… two months?” okay, that sounded terrible for a year and a half marriage.

“Dude…” her tone indicated that it was a catastrophic event, that you and Miguel hadn’t been on a date for so long.

“What? We’re both busy. I’m in charge here; she has work to do here and college stuff. “ it wasn’t that bad. You always made time to make a decent dinner, watch movies, listen to music, and cuddle before sleeping. Miguel couldn’t complain.

“So?” Miguel knew what Jess was about to add. She would say you two didn’t have a child to care about.

And it made him question it. Did he ever see himself being a father again? No.

Would he love to see you pregnant and taking care of a baby? Yes

Would he be able to leave his trauma behind just to be happy again if you asked for a baby?… Maybe.

“I’ll just say it’s a good weekend to spend time together again. Not worrying about work is…Is a relaxed Friday.” she was right.

Maybe Miguel would take her word.

But first, he had to find you.

…

“Would you like to have a date?” His question popped in a way that made you feel like he was asking for the first time again.

You smile brightly, looking up at him with a slight arch on your brow.

“Yeah. I would love that,” he sighs, relieved.

“Your place. It’s better….” you knew he preferred your house. So you would not complain.

“Sure. Then let me clean today, okay?” He nodded.

Unexpectedly you hug him. Your head barely brushed his chest. And since nobody was around, Miguel hugged you back. His hands caress your head softly, touching your hair.

“I love you so much,” you admit with your eyes closed. He knows it’s obvious. Nobody would’ve stood him for so long, even before marriage.

“Me too, bonita,” he replies calmly.

There’s a characteristic pull you do in his rib every time you ask for a kiss.

So he leans again, but there’s time for a long deep kiss this time.

It’s impossible to not miss your body too.

Memories that shouldn’t appear, assault him at that moment.

Honestly, he can’t wait to have you the next night. You never deny him a good time in bed. And Miguel can’t help but be surprised that a small body like yours has long-lasting stamina.

Except when the weather it’s too hot and your low blood pressure can’t take it.

Other than that, you were so determined to take him and endure anything he decided to give you.

Another big reason to love you.

He’s still kissing you. And he can sense how your body temperature increases. He doesn’t have spider sense but swears he can hear your throbs and pulses around nothing.

A cold shower, that’s what he’s gonna need.

“So.. See you tomorrow, amor.” You say one last time. He lets you go and can’t wait for the next day.

Yeah, even when he sees you every day, no matter what.

Because he’s beyond in love with you.

…

As you walk towards your little office, you encounter Peter and Mayday.

“Hey!. You two are still here,” they turned, giving you a big smile.

“Yeah, Mayday can’t leave without a warm bottle of milk from here” You wondered what could make the milk from the HQ something special for Mayday. Maybe it was the mascarpone flavor….

“I want to leave early because this girl needs a bath before tomorrow….” you frown, confused. There’s a lot of trust and a great friendship with the man, even when he is older than Miguel and you. And as much as your husband liked to remark that Peter wasn’t a friend, the truth was obvious.

“What’s gonna happen tomorrow?…”

“I’m having a date with MJ, and we hope her mother can take care of Mayday. Cause if she can’t… maybe we won’t be able to- “

“Miguel and I can take care of her…” you suggest immediately.

“Really? That would be great. But… What about…?”

“Miguel? You know him…He secretly likes Mayday,” you respond.

But then you remember you were supposed to have a date with your husband. You haven’t had an entire day with him outside of work. And he hadn’t fucked you since two weeks ago.

But Mayday couldn’t be such a bother…Right? Like, look at that cute face and baby carrot hairs.

“Well, in that case…Do I bring her?” You nod, completely forgetting about Miguel and what could be his reaction.

“Sure. You know my place, right?” Peter had been there several times before you and Miguel got married.

“Yeah. So… at 7:00 pm? I would pick her up before midnight.”

“It’s fine. Right, baby?” Mayday giggles and keeps drinking from her little bottle.

“Alright then… see you tomorrow” You wave goodbye to the duo and go home.

It won’t be that bad.

____

Miguel opens the door of your house, and the first thing he hears is soft music playing.

My heart's been borrowed, and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my… LOVER!!!!.

You are singing between giggles and pauses.

Okay, he knows the song. He knows you dedicate that whole album to him every time you play it.

And when he enters the kitchen, he wants to pinch his arm to confirm he’s not dreaming.

You are cooking something on the little island: a baby pink dress, red cardigan, hair in a braid.

One hand is stirring something, and the other is… carrying Mayday?

“Oh. Hey, babe!” You greet him, running to give him a peck on the lips.

“Uh…What’s going on?” He asks, pointing at the baby in your arm.

“We’re babysitting her!” Mayday is super concentrated on a piece of watermelon you gave her, chewing and making a mess of her onesie.

“This was supposed to be a date…” he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. But he was expecting some time alone with his wife.

“It is… Peter will pick her up before midnight. We never go to sleep before 2:00am, amor.”

“Great. I have to deal with Peter even on my free day,” you laugh at his exaggerated reaction.

“Oh, don’t be like that. Mayday is a burst of sunshine; she will not trouble us.” When Miguel turns back to see you, the baby is gone from your arms. She’s climbing your kitchen drawers. Your husband instantly panics when he sees Mayday could fall into the boiling water at any moment.

“You have to look after her,” he says to you, eyes switching from you to the baby.

“I’m looking at her…”

“No. You’re looking at the recipe for…mushroom soup?” Mayday trembles, and Miguel runs to basically catch her. But you make a movement that shoots out two webs, making a little swing for her. She coos and laughs happily.

“See? I got her….” you say proudly.

Miguel had to accept you were good at taking care of kids. Making him question it further if he was ready to pop in the question; Do you want a baby?

“Could you two pick a movie? I left some options on the couch” Miguel looks at Mayday, who seems to understand that you need something from her, so stretches her arms to Miguel, asking him to pick her up.

“She’s asking you to lift her, babe.”

He rolls his eyes, and with a grumpy attitude, he picks Mayday in his arms.

You take a mental screenshot of the image. And your baby's fever escalates even more. Only that you swore to not bring up the issue. Because you weren’t ready to find out if Miguel was prepared to try for a baby again.

Miguel and Mayday, they both look at the pair of movies you have out.

All are for kids, but he can easily look at any of those because he would be with you.

And probably would not pay attention.

“Which one do you want?” He asks the girl. She looks at the movies again and points at the pirates and fairies one.

“Good choice,” your husband lets out. Mayday only giggles.

…

Well, Miguel couldn’t sit next to you.

Because Mayday was in the middle. You made her some tofu nuggets with vegetables because you were an almond babysitter. Also cause Peter said Mayday needed to eat more greens.

She happily looked at the movie while she had the plate before her.

Then you and Miguel had mushroom soup with warm bread and salad.

He never failed to flatter your food; never.

You can feel he’s praying for Mayday to fall asleep.

He has some big fuck me eyes, actually begging.

You can’t help but smile and giggle as he rolls his eyes.

For another twenty minutes, the movie continues. But soon, Mayday climbs Miguel and starts resting on his chest, and no more than a minute later, she’s fast asleep.

Both of you are in shock. He doesn’t even know where to place his hands.

Until you stand to place his hands in the right place, one on her head and the other on her back.

Miguel looks astronomically big with the baby in his arms. And once again, you look with a giant pair of heart eyes.

Your head is screaming; give me a baby, please!!!!!!

However, you and Miguel only stare at each other, probably thinking and wanting to say the same.

“I’ll put her on your bed” You nod, thanking him as his broad figure disappears from the living room.

You take the dishes to the kitchen and clean them.

There’s a long pause after drying your hands with a flower towel. You stare vaguely at your window, looking through the flowers Miguel gave you when he arrived.

You can’t ask him, but you want so badly. He’s your husband, your lover. You should be able to ask him, cause you to talk with him about everything and anything.

When you go back to the living room, Miguel is there. The tv is off, and the whole room is in complete darkness except for your window. Which led some light to enter through the curtains.

You look at him; he’s seated on the couch.

Your mouth opens and closes. Because you can’t find the words.

“Do you want a baby?” He asks. It’s sudden, unexpected, and shocking.

“I-…” You are frozen. His eyes had never been so intimidating. Yet, the love you feel when you come closer to sit beside him is more immense.

“I do, but-“Then you think about him. His past, trauma, and sequels he could have.

“I think I’m ready to move forward,” he can make you feel shocked again.

He’s making an effort… Why ruin it?

“You are?…” you ask, taking his hand. He caressed your knuckles, softening the moment.

“Yes. Since some months ago… I’ve seen you the kid, and I want that,” he leans into your touch. The way you caress his cheeks invites him to stay there forever.

“So…Wanna try?” You’ve never been on the pill or anything; just pure luck. Maybe it turned out for the best.

“Yes…” somehow the moment is awkward. But in a cute way because neither of you knows where to start.

“Is the kid completely asleep?” you chuckle on his lips. So you’re trying earlier…

“Completely passed out. Don’t worry, amor. I’ll be quiet” he spreads his big thighs when you straddle him on the couch. Your weight is incredibly relaxing for him, so he cherishes every moment.

“Bonita…You’re never quiet” his comment makes you blush. Miguel loved the power he had to make you feel like a teenager in love yet. And it wasn’t because of the age gap. It was simply the way you were.

“Yes, I’ll be. Promise…”

You weren’t quiet. But at least Mayday snored.

—

Peter is greeted by a sweaty Miguel, and you are all disheveled. His face turns into a grin, a disgusted one. He doesn’t even say hi to Miguel; he just steps into your house.

“You two had-“

“NO!” You deny it immediately, drinking a water bottle, ignoring your friend’s judgmental gaze.

“Yes,” Miguel admits with his usual stoic presence.

“MAN..why?” Peter asks in disbelief. Your blush can’t help but increase until you look like a swollen tomato.

“Guess my baby set the alarms of a baby fever…huh?” Even Miguel wants to laugh but does his best to stand still.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe…” you admit laughing nervously.

Miguel disappears to bring the baby, leaving you and Peter alone.

“So, how was the date?”

“So… How was the tango session?” He starts laughing.

“PETER!” You nudge his arm, joining his chuckles.

“Nah, the date was amazing. Oh, how much I love my wife,” he hears your prolonged aww. Then Miguel appears with a happy Mayday again.

“You woke her?” Peter asks, taking his daughter.

“No. She was awake already.” Your husband replies.

“You know? You two will be good at this” You can’t help but smile widely. You hug your friend quickly before saying bye to Mayday, and a second later…It’s just you and him again.

“This turned… good,” Miguel admits.

“He’s right?”

“What?”

“Peter. He’s right; we’ll be good at this” Finally, you see him smile. A genuine smile that is only reserved for you.

“Promise me that we’ll be careful. That we are going to try so hard to keep it going?” He pleads suddenly. Looking down at you with a slight pout.

“Oh, Miguel. I can’t assure you everything will be perfect. But I’ll do my best for us and upcoming additions. I promise,” he nods, pressing his forehead against you.

And again, it’s all kisses and slow heavy breathings.

“I wanna keep trying….” you reveal between kisses. He smiles; you can feel it. No matter what, he would always have you, but… he would try for that baby.

“I think we’re gonna stay up past bedtime,” you giggle, stretching again to feel his warm lips.

Impatient to feel them all across your body.

But little did you know, you had already been hosting a baby for the past three months.

______________

[soo0hee]

Flu & Fluff

Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x Reader

Summary — Arriving home to pick something up, Jeonghan finds a good reson to just stay home with his angel.

Genre — fluff, established relationship, idol!au

Warnings — none

Word Count — 0.7k

Rating — sfw

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

 When Jeonghan set foot into the apartment he shared with you, he was startled quite a bit. It was around midday and he only came home already because he had forgotten something on the kitchen table he was not coming to get from home.

It wasn't the cup still half filled with your favorite tea that was still placed on the counter or the plate next to it. It wasn't even the throw blanket that was bundled together from your movie night yesterday. No, it was your jacket being thrown carelessly over the back of the couch together with the bag you use to go do work with.

Were you home already? If so, then why?

It was barely even 1pm and he knew that it was far from the time you usually got home so to say he was confused wouldn't be a lie.

"Angel? Are you home?" he called out into the silent apartment but was only greeted by the disgruntled meow of your cat Loki who was not at all impressed at the prospect of having his sleep disturbed.

Loki stretched thoroughly before winding himself around Jeonghans legs; the man frowning at the fur left behind on fabric of his pants. "Where's your momma, hm? Is she here?"

He received another meow, this time softer while enjoying the pets he got before sauntering away with his tail held high as he vanished in the gap the door to the bedroom was left open. He followed the cat and flinched almost when the sound of coughing cut through the silence of the apartment.

Jeonghan threw his hand over his chest where his heart felt like it had stopped beating in shock. Letting out a curse he continued into the bedroom where he stopped in his tracks as he processed the sight that greeted him.

Sniffling and buried underneath the blankets was you, trying to get some air into your lungs between coughing and a stuffed nose while also getting some shut eye. If that and the cup with chamomile tea wasn't a dead give away to what was wrong, then

"Aigoo-ya," he coed at you. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick, pabo?"

You grumbled, not having realized you were being talked to. The idol smiled and came closer. Shrugging his shoes off he crawled onto the bed and underneath the blanket. Unconsciously you clung to your boyfriends body, searching for the comfort he brought you every time without fail.

"Hannie?" you mumbled out deliriously.

Jeonghan had immediately noticed the immense head coming from your body, indicating the fever you seemed to have.

"Yes angel, I'm home. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a bus." You grimaced slightly at the tension behind your forehead before Iooking up at the man beside you. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you by at the company?"

"I forgot something in the kitchen,"

"The lyric sheets?"

"Exactly those. Now," he started with a pout  and his hand pressed to your forehead do check your temperature. Definitly a fever. "Care do tell my why you didn't call me and told me you weren't feeling well?"

You shrugged and answered while coughing. "The boys need you!"

"Right now, I think you need me more, don't you think?"

Jeonghan reached into his jeans pocket for his phone, typing in a message for the group chat.

Knowing what he was doing you too, reached weakly for the device only to have him hold it out of your reach.

"No, you can't just stay home! They-"

"-can record my vocals in a few days too! We have enough time until the comeback so don't worry, just let me take care of you for a while.”

You gave up, knowing very well that there was no way to win against the older of the famous evil twins. "Fine, but-“

"No buts." A soft kiss was pressed to your head. "Just let me love you."

Falling back asleep you hummed a quiet,"love ya too..."

[dangopango00]

KISSES WITH HIM

Giving, Receiving, Misc (General-Beginning-Comfortable)

Sports Characters x S/O!GN Reader

(Hyoma Chigiri, Kenma Kozume)

A/N: Random late night burst of productivity going crazy rn my heart is so full 🥹 love my long haired sports beloveds they’re both serving that black cat gf vibe but in different ways 

Also the misc is basically bout accessories n stuff; stuff that may or may not apply to you hc as well as yn wise 

Also messy bcos I haven’t slept um. Anyway, im sorry its so biased the thoughts were just flowing into my head my bad ill do better

HCS UTC

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hyoma Chigiri:

{ GIVING

I swear this dude makes flustering you his personal goal and he definitely likes to kiss you when you least expect it for his own amusement as he likes the surprised face you make 

Life hack to get more kisses is stroke his ego because he will give in 100% of the time even if he knows you have an ulterior motive; his heart just feels so full when you praise him because he knows you mean it AND he’s confident in himself, so he knows it's true too 

Basically an angel during the beginning of your relationship like he’s still him of course but he doesn’t tease you as much and he’s gentler since he doesn’t know you intimately yet– quick soft kisses and a ghost of a touch

I don’t think there’d be a time where he’s really uncomfortable per se in your relationship as he’s already quite bold and I am subscribed to the Hyoma best friends to lovers agenda but I do think he’d be more playful/confident as time goes on and would start messing with you more intimately like nipping your lip a bit when kissing and teasing you more often (he thinks it's funny)

HUGE TEASE but also just a bit clingy in general. Like I said, he likes to fluster you for his own entertainment, so he definitely does fakeout kisses but sometimes he just wants to be close to you. For example, getting impossibly close to you and giving you a smirk vs resting his forehead on yours, letting his eyelids flutter shut are very different moods for him but tend to have the same effect on you

{ RECEIVING 

Will refuse kisses on his face during and shortly after skincare time but you’re allowed to kiss him all you want right before then and once the products have set into your skin (you def do your skincare together); Once he’s had enough gently presses his thumb to your lips and teases you, noting that you seem to be in a lovey dovey mood

Definitely easy to fluster in the beginning of your relationship since he isn’t used to your relationship being intimate and probably gets needy fast if the kiss grows passionate

I just know no matter what he was doing, this dude was always ready and waiting for a kiss; this especially applies if he’s getting ready to leave for a prolonged amount of time like for practice or whatever he may have to do and he keeps looking over checking where you are to see if he will get the kiss he so desires

Once he gets more comfortable, he’d love it if you were cheesier tbh. I think he would find cheesy romantic gestures silly and endearing as he enjoys the simple things. He just likes to know that you love him and that you mean it; ESPECIALLY likes when you put your own personal spin on a classic cheesy gesture like giving him a bouquet of handwritten love notes or books he’d like (Booket booket for my sweetiey 🥹)

Not a big fan of being peppered in kisses especially if you’re wearing lipgloss/stick/balm (sticky and messy) but he really enjoys seeing the way you smile at him– the way any tension in your face absolutely melts after you do it 

{ BONUS/MISC

A HUUUGEEE sucker for you running your hands through his hair as you kiss, it drives him up the wall; contrary to popular belief I really don’t think he would like you pulling on it. Bye. He’d make a face 

I’m not sure how actually committed I am to this HC bc I do in fact have vampire fever rn but just thought of him with slightly prominent canines (little fangies) I think it would be cute; he’d def kiss your cheek then nip it a bit for fun 

His skin is SOOOOOO soft, the most squishable face in the world and that extends to his lips. Feigns irritation when you squish his cheeks and kiss him, but he thinks it's silly; rolls his eyes 

If you have piercings, he would NOT stop kissing them; loves the cold of the metal against his lips, especially if it’s a lip piercing

If you have curly/wavy/coily hair he’d twist your hair around his finger when flirting with you before or after kissing you

If you are muscular or have some chub he’d love to feel you up while you kiss; when it comes to muscle of course he’d love to run his hands over your muscles (namely your chest and back) and when it comes to chub, he’d be a fan of smoothing his thumbs over your love handles (area right before where your thighs start– pelvis bone area)

Kenma Kozume:

{ GIVING

He’s kinda in his own head so honestly, he probably wouldn’t be the initiator often even if you’ve been together for a while like he straight up forgets he can do that sometimes

DEFINITELY likes when you ask him to kiss you because it makes him feel needed; he’s always the one being needy for you, so he loves when you return the same energy for him because it reminds him that despite everything you do love him

You have to direct him a little bit in the beginning of your relationship bc he’ll just peck you and go back to what he was doing or linger hoping you’ll ask for more at most if you ask him for a kiss 😭 

Can’t stop smiling into the damn kiss once he gets comfortable in your relationship because he’s just so happy to be with you like going about his day is neutral but getting a kiss from you is something special for him 

When he does kiss you, he usually takes it very slow with chaste pecks on your cheeks and around your mouth until finally planting a gentle yet long lasting kiss directly on your lips

{ RECEIVING 

Is like a cat that gets a little overwhelmed at too much attention; scrunches his face if you kiss all over his face for too long, he’s not mad about it but he feels like his head will explode, evident by the wrinkle of his nose and by how tightly knitted his brows appear

Definitely a little insecure about his lips being chapped in the beginning of your relationship and lathers his mouth in chapstick before kissing you if he can help it

He even gets a bit nervous if you kiss him before he can get to it especially since your lips feel so nice to him while his are…meh

When he gets more comfortable in your relationship, he’d love it if you pulled on his clothes while kissing him like for example pulling him towards you by his collar or simply holding onto his clothes while kissing 

Huge fan of you kissing him while you’re both shirtless but it embarasses him so bad he would have a heart attack and a half, so he instead enjoys biting your shoulder from behind while you’re shirtless  

{ BONUS/MISC

I recently started hcing Kenma with like seasonal freckles at least so I think he’d be a big fan of you kissing them as he used to get made fun of for having them and often hid them if he could

Lwk likes it when you sneak up on him while he’s wearing his headphones and give him a kiss it’s like a treat especially if you do it when he’s about to get heated at a game he’s playing

This isn’t really a hc as he does have eyebags canonically butttt I think he would LOVE when you kiss his eyebags it never fails to make him smile and he doesn’t really know why, doesn’t really get why you do it in the first place either, but he enjoys it

If you have long nails, he’d be such a fan of you digging them into him a bit while you kiss (not too hard just enough to feel it)

If you wear sweetly scented smell goods (especially if it resembles the scent of freshly baked apple pie!!) it serves as a reminder that he should kiss you; pulls him out of his head for a bit 

If you wear jewelry, he’d subconsciously fiddle with some of your jewelry while you kiss, like holding your hands and twisting your rings a bit while you kiss or grazing over your earrings with his thumb

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 10: Nobody Likes You, Everyone Left You]

A/N: I sincerely apologize for the delay, but Maggie Sundays are back, besties!!! And we have a new poll! Be sure to check it out AFTER you finish Chapter 10 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title and chapter title are lyrics from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.8k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Here’s how it happens.

Let’s say you’re on a subway, or at a bus stop, or walking in or out of a grocery store, maybe fumbling with your purse or corralling small children, or talking on the phone, or wondering how you’re going to make rent, or trying not to drop one of your shopping bags, and out of nowhere some stranger lurches over and grabs you. They are filthy and noxious and moaning, and you assume they are insane, or on hard drugs, or maybe both. Your fellow upstanding citizens rush to your aid and the assailant is apprehended and carted off, unbeknownst to you surely to infect many more blithely unaware victims.

Maybe you notice that you were bitten, even just barely, even just a scrape of the teeth hard enough to scratch the skin; maybe you don’t. If you do notice and you seek medical attention, the best a doctor will offer you is disinfectant and antibiotics, maybe a rabies shot if they’re extra ambitions. Perhaps you have too much on your plate already without a detour to the doctor’s office (or perhaps you don’t have medical insurance), and you opt for at-home remedies, a vigorous scrub with hydrogen peroxide and a large rectangular Band-Aid slapped on top. Of course, none of this will do you any good. It was over the moment a drop of zombie saliva slipped painlessly into your bloodstream and began to replicate there like an invasive species, like an insurgent force. It only takes once.

You go home, and maybe when you start to feel really bad you call an ambulance and go to the hospital, and when you turn you bite anyone you can get your claws on there. Maybe you die at home and then attack your partner, your children, your parents, your roommates; maybe this new version of yourself ends up chewing bits of gristle off the bones of your dog or cat or ferret. And if any of your victims manage to escape once you’ve gotten a taste of them—no matter how fleetingly, no matter how trivially—they are sure to die in agony and reanimate too, and to pass along this plague you’ve gifted them, the bloodiest game of telephone.

Now millions are getting sick, fevers, headaches, purging, bleeding, but where do people go when they need a doctor? The hospitals are overrun, the clinics are swarmed, and doctors and nurses are falling ill too. There are unimaginable reports of the carnage. There is censorship to smother the panic. There are public figures vanishing from sight. There are zombies-in-progress boarding planes, checking into hotels, tottering onto cruise ships with armfuls of luggage, sweating through their bedsheets in crowded military barracks, silently ticking timebombs as the world as everyone knows it hurtles towards its end.

You would be amazed what people can refuse to believe. Once you believe something, that makes it real.

~~~~~~~~~~

There are no shovels, so Cregan tills the earth with his axe and then you dig with your hands. There are no headstones, so Rhaena finds a large sand-colored rock and writes on it with a jagged piece of slate: Baela and Briar, Summer 2024. Then she hesitates, the slate hovering in afternoon air, amber sunlight and eighty degrees, dust thick in the wind. She wants to say more. There needs to be more. How can two lives end with five words? At last Rhaena adds: Mother and child who perished en route to California. They were loved. They mattered.

“That’s good, Rhaena,” Luke tells her, voice gentle, hands on her shoulders. She stares at the grave for a while, and you don’t have time to waste; the bear could return, there might be wolves or mountain lions, eventually the sun will set and you will be stranded in an infinite darkness like the ocean at night. But Aemond waits until Rhaena is ready. She tucks the shard of shale into her backpack, and then you are fleeing once again: from this day, from this world.

You hike back to I-80 and walk west towards the next ranch. All of you are here in south-central Wyoming, and yet none of you are: you are in the earth with Baela, you are back in Nebraska where Jace died, you are in Ohio where he was swept away by a river, you are in Pennsylvania where you and Rio climbed down from a transmission tower, you are in your lives before the world ended: Saratoga Springs, Boston, cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean, a part of Kentucky called the Wildlands. Aegon is limping along on his own and shoving Rio away each time he tries to pick him up.

“Stop,” Aegon says, wincing and exhausted, his bandages coated with dust.

“Come on, Honey Bun. You’re going to rip your foot open—”

“Stop it!” Aegon demands. “I’m not going to slow you down anymore! I’m not going to be a burden!”

There is a sound you don’t immediately recognize: a rumbling, a squealing. A car is pulling up alongside you. Instinctively, you unholster one of your M9s and raise it as you turn.

“No, no, no, we’re cool!” a woman says, showing you both of her hands. She is around fifty and driving a Subaru Outback; there is a man in the passenger’s seat, perhaps her husband, and two wide-eyed, hoodie-swathed teenagers in the backseat. “Are you…are you guys okay?”

All of you stare blankly at her: shellshocked, distraught, covered in dirt and blood. “Yeah,” Daeron says eventually.

The woman peers around, east, west. “Do you have a car or something?”

“We have a Tahoe,” Cregan says. “It’s out of gas.”

“We have a few cans in the trunk,” the Subaru woman replies. “I can give you one, five gallons. That will get you to Rock Springs, and you should be able to find more supplies there. We came through that way, it wasn’t too bad.” And then, before anybody can ask if she’s serious, the woman steps out of the car and opens the hatchback. She lifts out a red can and hands it to Rio, who is standing the closest.

“Thank you, lady,” he says, astonished.

“I’m sorry about that,” you tell the woman, meaning the fact that you were prepared to shoot her.

Rhaena adds: “We’ve had some…bad experiences.”

The Subaru woman smiles. “Haven’t we all. Where are you headed?”

“West Coast,” Aemond answers quickly: vague, guarded, inviting no further disclosures.

She nods; she can’t trust you, and you can’t trust her, and everyone agrees, an unspoken acknowledgement of what the world is like now. “Well, you don’t want to go anywhere near Salt Lake City.”

“But that’s the only direct route,” Aegon says, crestfallen.

“I know.” The Subaru woman is sympathetic. “And it’s going to burn a hell of a lot of gas and time to drive all the way around, but you have to. There are tens of thousands of zombies, and a lot of people are trapped there without fuel. I’m telling you, if someone sees you driving by in a working vehicle, they’ll try to put a bullet in your head so they can take it. So don’t give them the opportunity.”

“Okay,” Aegon says glumly, already pulling his map out of the pocket of his khaki shorts to plot a new course.

“Stay far away from Chicago,” Rio offers the Subaru woman in return. “And any nuclear power plants.”

“We’re headed south,” she says, then grins. “I’ve got a sister in eastern Tennessee. We’re going to learn how to fish and cook moonshine and make clothes out of deer hide, and live up in the mountains where nobody will ever bother us.”

People glance at you, the resident Appalachian; and you remember the crackling of woodstoves, flecks of ice in the creek, kicking up snow as you ran through the woods, following tracks of deer and opossums and raccoons. “It’s a beautiful place. I think you’ll like it.”

Rhaena asks the Subaru woman: “Is there anything we can do for you? To thank you for the gas?”

“Oh, I couldn’t take from a bunch of bloodied people who are stranded on the side of the interstate.” But her eyes catch on the pistol in your hand and stay there, envious, longing. You have another, so you give it to her.

“The safety is on. There are only nine bullets left, unfortunately.”

“That’s nine more than I had before,” the Subaru woman says as she takes the U.S. Navy’s standard-issue Beretta. Then she says to everyone: “Good luck.”

“Same to you, ma’am,” Cregan replies. The Subaru woman gets back into her car and disappears eastbound with her family. The nine of you that are left—ten, if you count Ice—trek back to the Tahoe, where Rio pours five gallons of combustible liquid gold into the gas tank.

Rhaena climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key in the ignition. The rust-red Tahoe growls to life, the engine idling. Then she rests her arms on the steering wheel and breaks down sobbing. In the passenger’s seat, Aegon looks up from his map—which he is annotating with a glittery green gel pen—to gaze at her with shining, wounded eyes. After some hesitation, he extends a hand to hold one of hers. From the seat behind Rhaena, Luke is rubbing her shoulders and murmuring words you can’t hear.

Aemond says softly: “Rhaena, you can take some time if you need it.”

“No,” she insists, her voice quivering but determined. “We can’t wait. We have to get as far as we can before dark.” She shifts the Tahoe into drive, guides it onto I-80, and speeds west towards Rock Springs and the Utah border.

Rio is saying something to you, but at first you can’t grasp it. Helaena is scratching Ice’s ears as the massive grey wolfdog lies sprawled across her lap. Daeron is sniffling and wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his orange t-shirt. Cregan is talking to Aemond about needing to find an auto shop so he can get supplies to change the Tahoe’s oil and filter. One of Aegon’s mixtapes whirls in the CD player:

“My face above the water

My feet can’t touch the ground, touch the ground

And it feels like I can see the sands on the horizon

Every time you are not around…”

You are watching Aemond, your heartbeat growing loud in your ears. He won’t look at you at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

As the sun begins to set, you find a vacant house on the outskirts of Coalville, Utah overlooking the Echo Reservoir. You wash away the remnants of Wyoming in the cool blue water, dried blood and caked-on dirt, hopes eclipsed by horror. Dinner is soup spooned out of cans from the pantry—Dinty Moore beef stew, Campbell’s condensed chicken noodle—and caffeine-free sodas, Sprite and Fanta and Seagram’s Ginger Ale. Then Rhaena and Luke go straight to bed, and Helaena scuttles through the house with a flashlight to search for clothes, making each person a separate pile on the dining room table: large flannel shirts for Cregan, pastel-colored polos for Aegon. Aemond and Cregan are outside on the front porch, Daeron is carving sticks into arrows on the kitchen floor, Aegon has been passed out in one of the children’s bedrooms since Aemond debrided his burns again and dosed him with the last of the Vicodin. Fortunately, Helaena found a translucent orange prescription bottle of Tramadol in the upstairs bathroom, so Aegon won’t have to suffer too much tomorrow.

Rio tosses and turns on the living room couch. You know what’s wrong, but you have to wait for him to say it. You stay with him, kneeling on the beige carpet in the murky artificial luminance of Rio’s Moonbeam flashlight, threading your fingertips through his dark curls. And then at last Rio asks something that you know must have crossed his mind a thousand times since you left Saratoga Springs, but he’s never voiced aloud: “What if Sophie and the baby are dead?”

“They’re not.”

“But you don’t know, nobody knows—”

“Bryan, they’re not dead,” you say, and he is listening.

“I joined the Navy for Sophie.” And of course, you’ve heard this before. “I was just a stupid kid who couldn’t commit to anything, not work, not school, not a future with her, so she dumped me. And I decided I was going to get her back by proving I could make commitments after all. I could sign my life away for five years, and come out of it as someone who would be a good husband and father. And now…what if by enlisting and being so far away when everything happened, I abandoned her? What if…what if she’s gone, and she died terrified and in pain and alone, and I’m the reason why?”

“Sophie and the baby are waiting for you in Odessa. You have to believe that until we get there.”

“Because if they’re not, my life is over?” he asks bitterly, this man you have never known to be wrathful, defeated, weak, hopeless. But these are beasts that live inside all of us, waiting to be shaken awake by the perfect string of calamities.

“I believe they’re still alive.”

And Rio looks at you, wanting desperately to be convinced. “Why?”

You’ve never believed that you are someone who knows the right things to say; but you have to try. “If your parents’ community in Odessa is like you’ve always described it to me, I can’t think of a better place for someone to hide from all the disorder and the violence. It’s remote, but there’s support from other families who are living the same way. People have gardens, cows, goats, pigs, chickens, enough canned food to live on for years, homemade clothes and systems to collect rainwater. There are women who’ve had five homebirths and men who’ve built houses with their own hands. And the people in Odessa have guns and know how to use them. I think when you told Sophie to go there, you saved her life. And now she and the baby are both waiting for you to come home.”

“We’ve crossed this country by raiding dead people’s homes.”

“Yes. And we’ve seen plenty of living ones too.”

Rio takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling; and now he is calmer. “Okay,” he says, grabbing your hand where it rests on his head and smacking a noisy kiss onto your knuckles. “I’m sorry. Thank you. I think I’m done freaking out for tonight.”

“You good?”

“I’m good.”

“Try to sleep.”

Obediently, Rio closes his eyes, and within five minutes he’s snoring.

You rise and open the door to the front porch, thinking of what you’re going to tell Aemond when he is low, distracted, wary: You did everything you could, Aemond. It’s not your fault. It’s this world, it’s poison, it’s cursed, and you can’t turn back the clock to when it wasn’t. You’re just one man. But you can try to save the people who are left.

Yet Aemond does not speak to you, doesn’t even notice you; when you peek outside you are on his blind side, and he is deep in conversation with Cregan as they keep watch in the moonlight.

“I mean, yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too, man,” Cregan is saying. “A mansion by the ocean sounds nice and all, don’t get me wrong, but that ain’t me. I don’t see myself somewhere like that forever. Hell, I’ve never even seen the ocean, and to be honest I never really cared to. But a community of folks who are living off the land out in the woods? Those are my kind of people, that’s a place I could be useful…”

You retreat back inside the house, flashlights and shadows, doubts and fears. You stand there in the quiet for a while, then go to Aegon’s bedroom, where he is awake now and snuggling with Ice in a child’s bed shaped like a red racecar, listening to his pink Sony Walkman—Ava, the gleaming rhinestones proclaim—through one earbud.

Aegon coos as he ruffles the dog’s shaggy grey coat: “You’re so sweet, Blue Raspberry Icee. You were always my favorite flavor. Do you miss 7-Elevens too? Wrinkled old hot dogs and taquitos on rollers, drenching tortilla chips with the nacho cheese and chili dispenser? Did you guys even have 7-Elevens in Iowa? No offense, but your home state kind of sucks. It’s just fields and barns and whatever. You would have loved Boston. You could have fetched my golf balls when they rolled into ponds.”

Then he sings along to the song he’s listening to, effortlessly melodic but so softly you can barely hear him:

“You really had me going, wishing on a star

But the black holes that surround you are heavier by far

I believed in your confusion, you were so completely torn…”

Aegon spots you in the doorway. He smiles, then turns serious when he gets a good look at your face. “You okay, Mint Chocolate Chip?”

He feels like the only person you can say this to. You confess in a weak, hoarse whisper: “I hate this world.”

Aegon offers you the other earbud. “Then let’s go somewhere else.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on,” you say to Rhaena as Rio and Luke rummage around inside the Shell gas station for food, drinks, batteries, medicine. You know they’re fine; you’ve already cleared the store, and you can hear them in there laughing. Rio is telling Luke about the bizarre Thanksgiving dinner you once had in Chinhae, South Korea: duck instead of turkey, fried rice with pears and squash instead of stuffing, candied sweet potatoes for dessert, a choir of solemn schoolchildren brought in to sing—for reasons you will never understand—Africa by Toto. You take your remaining M9 out of its holster. “Target practice.”

“Really?” Rhaena asks excitedly. She volunteered to stay back at the little blue mobile home with Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena—only a mile away—but you knew she needed a distraction. Truthfully, you do too. Aemond is in the Tahoe somewhere searching for gas with Cregan, a strange new alliance. He still hasn’t really spoken to you. You are trying to give him what he needs, but you don’t understand what that is.

It took all of yesterday to navigate around Salt Lake City, stopping every few hours to scrounge for gas, gallons siphoned piecemeal from cars, trucks, motorcycles, boats on trailers, four-wheelers left forgotten in garages and backyards. It was after nightfall when you rolled into Battle Mountain, Nevada, a gold mining town in what is known as the Cowboy Corridor, beginning at West Wendover just over the Utah border and ending in Reno. Today supplies must be replenished; tomorrow I-80 will take you to Winnemucca, where U.S. Route 95 branches off north towards Oregon while remaining on I-80 leads southwest through the Sierra Nevada Mountains and into the Bay Area of California. A decision needs to be made, which means Aemond will have to talk to you tonight. You’re relieved. You don’t want to have to be nervous and watchful with him, studying every inflection of his voice, reading some dire premonition in each line that creases his face. You’ve spent enough of your life that way already.

Battle Mountain is cloudless and hot and sandy, dry shrubs and gnarled mesquite trees, flat secretless earth. Staggering towards the Shell are three zombies, all dressed in faded blue uniforms like a mechanic’s or a miner’s. You hand Rhaena your M9.

“How many bullets do you have left?” she says, still a bit giddy.

“Fifteen. And you can have five of them.”

She raises the pistol and closes one eye. “I’m going to miss.”

“Well you’re not going to hit anything if you don’t turn off the safety.”

Rhaena giggles. “Oh, right. Whoops.” She clicks the tiny lever, then takes aim again.

“Line up your sights. Front looks like an I, back looks like a U. Put the I in the center of the U, and keep looking at that front sight. That’s where your bullet is going. Don’t blink when you fire. Don’t be scared of the recoil, that’s not your problem, your priority is getting the shot. Your arms are a little stiff…yeah, perfect, nice and limber. The recoil won’t hurt so much that way. Don’t try to fight it, just accept that it’s going to happen. If you’re all tensed up because you’re anxious about the recoil, it’ll throw off your aim, so forget about it.”

“Okay,” Rhaena says. “I am actively attempting to forget.”

“Remember, try not to blink.”

“Don’t tense up. Don’t blink.” A few seconds pass, and she pulls the trigger. There is a spray of dark curdled blood from one of the zombie’s collarbone, but it’s still stumbling towards the Shell. “Damn,” Rhaena says defeatedly, then tries to pass the M9 back to you.

“What are you doing? You have four more shots.”

“But I’m going to miss. I’m going to waste them.”

“Practice isn’t wasteful. You have to know how to do this in case something happens to me.”

“You do it,” Rhaena insists. “I’m terrible.”

“Is it alright if I help you?”

“Yeah,” she says, her doe-like eyes brightening. “Okay. Totally.”

“Go ahead and aim.”

She raises the pistol and peers through the sights. You stand behind Rhaena, place your hands lightly over hers, adjust her angle just barely. When she fires—she’s still tensing up just before she pulls the trigger, a common mistake—you hold the M9 steady. The bullet explodes through the same zombie’s rot-soft skull and the corpse tumbles facedown into the dust.

Rhaena gasps, exhilarated, triumphant.

“No celebrating yet. There are two more.”

“Right.” Very businesslike, she lines up the next shot. You provide your slight adjustments; a second zombie receives a lethal dose of lead.

“Want to do the last one on your own?” The third zombie is quite close now, maybe ten yards. It should be an easy kill.

“Okay…but if I miss, you have to save me.”

“Obviously.”

All on her own, Rhaena aims and pulls the trigger. She hits the zombie near the top of its head; an inch higher, and it would be functionally unharmed. But the corpse’s skull snaps back and its blood and brains spill out onto the asphalt of the parking lot, and it is of no further danger to anyone. It is carrion for the scavengers: raccoons, foxes, condors, vultures, crows.

“And with one of your allocated bullets to spare,” you say with a smile, accepting the M9 when Rhaena surrenders it. “Good progress.”

“That felt great,” she admits, perhaps a little dazed.

You know what she means. “It’s nice to have some control over what happens in your life.”

Luke is saying to Rio as they reappear from inside the Shell: “Maybe those Korean children were singing Africa because they knew your unit had been in Djibouti. Maybe they thought you were homesick for it or something.”

“Oh my God, you know what, kid? You might be right. I never even thought of that.”

“Find anything?” you ask.

Rio shrugs, adjusting the straps of his backpack. “A few bags of trail mix, a box of Band-Aids, some Life Savers, cans of Arizona tea. Oh, and Marlboro Golds for Honey Bun.”

“You shouldn’t be encouraging Aegon to smoke. It’s bad for him.”

“Give him a break, he’s sad and crispy.”

You can’t think of a rebuttal. The four of you walk back to the mobile home.

In the small patch of parched dirt that serves as the driveway, Cregan is—with great difficulty—shimmying out from beneath the Tahoe. Then he reaches back under to grab a pan of old motor oil. “Just about done here,” he announces. “Gotta put the fresh oil in and then we’re set for another 5,000 miles.”

You glance around. Ice is panting in the narrow aisle of shade of a mesquite tree. Aegon is napping on the tiny front porch, sprawled on his back and snoring, his plastic neon green sunglasses shielding his eyes; Helaena is surrounded by a jumble of empty cans and stirring a pot of Chef Boyardee spaghetti and meatballs as she heats it over a fire. She begins dishing out bowlfuls of it. Rio, Rhaena, and Luke all graciously accept their dinner.

“Did you guys find gas?” you say to Cregan.

“Not much. A few gallons.”

“Where’s Aemond?”

“Said he’d be back soon.”

“What?” You are incredulous. “You left him? He can’t be alone out there, Cregan. Someone has to watch his blind side.”

“He ain’t alone. He took Daeron.”

“What’s Aemond looking for?”

“He didn’t say. I didn’t ask.” Now Cregan is pouring a bottle of Pennzoil into the Tahoe, and Rio is prodding you with a bowl of Chef Boyardee spaghetti and meatballs, and Aegon is waking up and yawning loudly.

“What’d you bring me?” he says, lazy and grinning; and when he receives his pack of Marlboro Golds, he immediately sticks one between his teeth and lights it. Luke goes to sit by a shrub and then jumps up when he hears a rattling noise. Almost too swiftly for you to process it, a streak of red-gold scales slithers across the earth and vanishes into the desert.

“Western diamondback rattlesnake,” Helaena notes. “Venomous. Potentially fatal.”

“Great,” Luke says, carrying his bowl towards the front door of the mobile home. “I think I’ll eat inside.”

Aemond and Daeron don’t return until shortly before dusk, the sky turning to rust, lavender, gold, fire, blood. When they walk in, Rhaena is curled up on the floral couch—shredded in spots by a cat, though there are no signs of it now—and reading Mockingjay. Luke is sitting with her and keeping watch with periodic peeks out the window. Ice is resting with her muzzle propped on her large front paws. You, Rio, Cregan, Helaena, and Aegon are playing Uno on the floor.

“What color?” Aegon asks Helaena when she puts down a wild card.

“Blue.”

He groans. “How do you always know what I don’t have?!”

“Rhaena,” Aemond says, and then tosses something to her that glints in the artificial, sickly yellow radiance of the flashlights. She catches them in midair: a set of keys. She is mystified.

“What are these for?”

“The Ford Expedition that’s parked outside.”

“What?!” Luke says, twisting around in his seat to snatch the curtain aside and peer through the window. “Oh wow. Yeah, it’s out there.”

Rhaena is staring confoundedly at Aemond. “Why do we need a Ford Expedition?”

“Because that’s what you’ll be driving tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong with the Tahoe?”

“They will be driving the Tahoe to Oregon,” Aemond says, pointing to you, Rio, and Cregan. “We are taking Expedition to California.”

Everyone is too stunned to speak at first; even Daeron looks at Aemond doubtfully, as if this is the first time he’s learning of it. Aegon’s hand hovers frozen in the air above the draw pile of Uno cards. Ice whimpers.

Rio chuckles uncertainly. “You’re…you’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not,” Aemond says. “When we leave Battle Mountain tomorrow, you’ll take I-80 to Winnemucca. We’ll take Route 305 south to Austin and then head west so we can get off the interstate and avoid the Reno area.”

Your voice comes out dark and poisonous. You can feel your eyes glaring, searing; Aemond won’t look at you. “What are you talking about?”

“We can’t stay together?” Luke asks.

“No,” Aemond says again, and now he’s getting impatient. “We have two different destinations. That’s been the situation since the day we met, and now it’s time to split up.”

“Why can’t we all travel to one place and then the other?” Rhaena says. “We could drive to the Bay Area, see what’s going on at the beach house, and after—”

“I can’t wait,” Rio interrupts. “My wife and baby are in Oregon, I’m going straight there even if no one else is.” As distracted as you are, you touch your palm to one of his broad shoulders. You’re going too. You promised.

“So we’ll drive to Oregon first,” Aegon says agreeably. “Right? We could do that. Go north and then swing by the Bay Area later.”

Aemond shakes his head. “It’s almost impossible to find gas now. There is just enough in the Tahoe to last it until Winnemucca, and just enough in the Expedition to get it down to Austin. There is no guarantee we’ll be able to find more. Every day there’s less gas and food and bullets, because there are less places that haven’t already been looted. There are 400 miles between where we are right now and either Odessa or San Franscisco. There are another 400 miles that separate those two destinations from each other. So let’s say we drive all the way to Oregon and then can’t find any gas to go south to the Bay. How long do you think we’d last like this on foot? A month? Because that’s how long it would take us, assuming not a single rest day. So if we travel to one location together, there’s a good possibility we’ll all be trapped there.”

“Maybe I’m okay with getting trapped in Oregon,” Aegon mumbles.

Aemond lashes out fiercely. “Are you serious? What about Criston, what about Mom?!”

“Maybe there are some things about home that I don’t miss!”

“Then go the fuck to Oregon!”

“You know I have to stay with you!”

Aemond scoffs. “Because you’re so capable of protecting anyone.”

Aegon rubs his sunburned face with both hands. He murmurs softly, miserably: “I’m trying, Aemond.”

“So that’s it?” Rhaena says, staring at you and Rio and Cregan, stunned and mournful. “We’ll just never see each other again?”

Aemond shrugs and averts his gaze. He doesn’t have an answer; maybe he doesn’t care.

Aegon turns to Cregan accusingly. “You helped plan this?”

“Nah,” Cregan says, avoidant and downcast, which is unusual for him. “I mean…I said I didn’t really see myself spending the rest of my life with a bunch of millionaires in a California mansion on the seashore, and that’s still true. I’d rather live in Oregon with people who are more like me. But that’s different than wanting to split up forever. I could always try to find y’all later for a visit, I guess…”

“Sure,” Aemond replies briskly. “Whatever you decide to do afterwards isn’t my problem. But you get them to Odessa first.”

Rhaena bursts out with sudden urgency: “This feels wrong. Don’t you see how this is wrong?! We’ve been through so much together, and now we’re just going to wave goodbye and disappear? Leave them to fend for themselves?”

“You want to add 400 miles to our trip?” Aemond asks her, and Rhaena falls silent.

“You know,” Luke begins. “We…we’ve already lost people. Maybe Aemond’s right. Maybe we’re forgetting how dangerous the world is now. It would be great if we could stay in contact, but the most important thing is to get everyone safely to where they need to be.”

“Exactly,” Aemond says, and something jolts awake in you as you remember what he told you in Nebraska, and in Wyoming, and in so many quiet moments that you’ve shared since you met, each an oasis in the desert. He said we would figure it out. He said he wasn’t going anywhere.

“So you were lying when you pretended not to know what we were going to do when we got to Nevada.”

Aemond nods towards the front door. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

You stand up; Rio watches you apprehensively, wondering if he should follow. Your eyes flick to his. I’m fine. He relents, redirecting his attention. Aegon is slumped and despondent; Helaena is starting to cry, and Cregan tries to console her. She’s saying that something bad is going to happen, but she doesn’t know what.

On the porch of the mobile home, beneath a lilac sky pierced with stars, Aemond does not attempt to hold your hands or kiss you goodbye or give any other indication that you have ever been someone who mattered to him. “This isn’t personal. This is what gives everyone the best chance of survival.”

“You’re afraid of making a mistake and getting hurt,” you tell him. “And I understand, I know what that feels like, but Aemond…with the way the world is now…you can’t afford to wait for things to happen or cut them loose to see if they’ll come back to you. You might not get another chance.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Aemond says flatly. “Your route is safer than ours. Less cities, less zombies.”

“You’re honestly going to act like you are completely unbothered by the thought of never seeing me again?”

“I don’t know what you expected. I’m just some guy who helped get you off a transmission tower back in Pennsylvania.”

“Really? That’s all you are?”

And then Aemond smirks to himself, a cynical, mocking twist of his lips, something so dismissive and so cruel you almost believe for a razor-thin second that you could hate him. “Look, I’m not the one for you. Go to Oregon. Fuck Cregan.”

“There is nothing romantic between me and Cregan!”

Now Aemond seems annoyed. “Well, you two seem exceptionally suited for each other.”

“Because we both grew up shopping at Dollar General and know what it’s like to have an alcoholic parent?! That makes us soulmates, that’s the end of the calculation?!”

“Then find a man like him!” Aemond flares. “That’s what you really wanted, right? That’s what you were after this whole time. Some hero to convince you he’s worth it. Someone to break you in.”

You are seething, thunderstruck. “And you just said that in the most hurtful way possible to…what, prove how little you care about me?”

“I didn’t say I don’t care about you.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“We were never going to end up in the same place.”

“Except we were, you told me that, you told me we’d figure something out, I mean, you…you…you said you’d be there if I wanted kids someday, what was that if not some kind of commitment?!”

“You don’t trust me,” Aemond says, so sharply and so abruptly it startles you.

“I do,” you object softly.

“No, you don’t. And I don’t blame you. But there’s nowhere for us to go from here.”

You can feel yourself becoming young and powerless and desperately afraid. “Please don’t do this, Aemond. It won’t bring Jace or Baela back. If we don’t have a plan before we split up, this is over. We’ll never find each other again. We’ll never have another chance.”

And he shakes his head like this was such a needless mistake. “I knew you’d fall in love with me.”

He’s leaving, you think, hazy and omnipotent like a nightmare, the present inseparable from the past and the future. I left my family and now my family is leaving me. “I’m not in love with you,” you reply as ruthlessly as you can. “I think you’re right. Cregan is a better man.”

“Yeah,” Aemond snaps.

“And I need someone like him.”

“Yeah,” Aemond says again, staring into the west where the last rays of the sun are sinking below the horizon, you erased as you stand where his left eye would once have seen you.

“And you need someone who’s going to fuck with your head so much you can’t possibly mistake it for something real.”

You walk back inside the mobile home and leave him speechless in the dying light.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I drew this for you,” Aegon says, handing Rio a folded piece of paper torn from Helaena’s spider notebook. It’s a map, illustrated in forest green gel pen ink. “Your route is actually really straightforward, it’s impossible to get lost. You’ll follow I-80 northwest to Winnemucca, then Route 95 north until it intersects with Route 140, and you stay on 140 all the way to Odessa. The only real city you’ll go near is Klamath Falls in Oregon, and I’ve marked that. Route 140 mostly stays along the outside, but you can cut it wider if things look dicey. The whole trip is just a couple days by car, assuming you don’t have to spend too long hunting for gas. But listen…” He points to the green dot labelled Winnemucca. “Between here and Denio Junction up by the Oregon border, there’s 100 miles of nothing, just desert. So make sure you have more than enough supplies to last you in case something happens. Then from Denio Junction to Adel is another 85 miles with no towns in between. So just…be careful, okay? You’re not back east anymore. Things are a lot farther apart, and it’s harder to find everything. If you run out of gas or bust a tire, you can’t just call AAA to come pick you up.”

“We got it,” Rio says, touched but trying not to dissolve into too much sentimentality. The three of you are standing in the short dirt driveway the next morning, Aegon putting most of his weight on his good leg. Cregan is waiting behind the wheel of the Chevy Tahoe that once belonged to his parents. Ice is peering out at you through one of the rolled-down windows. “Thank you, Honey Bun.”

“No problem. Now flip it over.”

Rio does; on the back of the first map is another, this one from Odessa south to the Bay Area, a place just north of San Francisco called Bolinas.

“Go all the way to the coast and follow it down,” Aegon says. “You don’t want to bump into Santa Rosa, Sacramento, Stockton, Modesto, San Jose, any of those places. Too many people.” Then he smiles, kind and warm. “I’m going to see you guys again, one way or the other. But first I have to make sure Aemond is safe. And Rio has to meet baby Otter.”

Rio laughs. “Man, don’t even joke about it. I’m seriously concerned that’s my firstborn’s name.”

“If you end up not staying in Odessa, leave me a note carved into a tree trunk or something so I can track you down.”

“You do the same at the beach mansion.”

“Totally.” Then Aegon turns to you; and although he’s still smiling, his eyes—those pools of murky, melancholy blue that remind you of the Gulf of Tadjoura, Corpus Christi Bay, the East China Sea, the Indian Ocean—are catastrophically sad. “Tortilla Chip, it’s been real. Don’t forget about me.”

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

He pats your backpack and winks, and you don’t understand why until ten hours later when you’re lying on the rooftop of an abandoned RV in Winnemucca, Nevada, gazing up at the stars as Rio and Cregan swap stories to weave affinity until it’s thick like a braid: Rio hiding a dead lemon shark in the Jeep of an officer he hated when you were stationed at Key West, Cregan’s fiancé leaving him after she got a field hockey scholarship to the University of Iowa. You haven’t found any gas for the Tahoe yet. You’ll have to search again tomorrow. You reach into your backpack for a pack of Life Savers and instead are surprised to discover Aegon’s pink Sony Walkman. The rhinestones spelling out a doomed little girl’s name glint in the moonlight.

You slip in both earbuds and press play. Aegon left it paused at an Enrique Iglesias song; you assume he must have been thinking of Rio.

“You look at me and, girl, you take me to another place

Got me feelin’ like I’m flyin’, like I’m out of space

Something ‘bout your body says, come and take me

Got me begging, got me hoping that the night don’t stop…”

You try to see constellations in the night sky instead of random, indifferent distant suns. You try not to remember the way Aemond was when you thought his mark on you was permanent.

“Girl, I like the way you move, come and show me what to do

You can tell me that you want me, girl, you got nothing to lose

I can’t wait no more

I can’t wait no more…”

You spot a glimmer of light among the stars and choose to believe it is a comet rather than a fighter jet, or a forgotten satellite, or the refracted remnants of a solar storm, or something you only imagined and that never existed at all.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hero shows up at the gates of villain’s manor, all beat up and heavily injured, looking to seek help. Of course, they immediately get treated roughly & shoved away by the guards at the gate. But little do they know that just as villain was about to exit the gates to go somewhere, they witness the scene and immediately comes to the hero’s rescue. Then proceeds to shoot a death glare to their guards, promising to deal with them later after taking care of their hero :)

Before another plea could drop from their lips, the hero fell to their knees. Rain and blood soaked alike through the many layers of their uniform and the adrenaline was fading ever so slightly.

Somewhere in their exhausted mind, they decided to sleep right here in front of the door if they had to. Even if it meant they’d freeze to death. What else was there to do?

It must’ve looked funny how the hero had collapsed there and readied themselves to beg again. As if they were a worshipper who prayed to a god that would never answer.

The guards had no sympathy left for them and the hero couldn’t even blame them — they were the enemy after all, the big bad enemy. But the punches and the pushing around…that had robbed the hero of all the energy and hope they had had left.

“Please,” they tried again. Their voice was hoarse. Their throat burnt. “I can’t go home.”

One of the guards laughed and the hero lowered their head. It was easy to focus on the rain instead of the unkind words the other spoke. After a few other insults, the hero stopped listening and concentrated on their breathing. Keeping themselves alive was a priority right now. They didn’t need disgusting comments.

They needed bandages, they needed rubbing alcohol. They needed a bathroom and towels. They needed needles. Thread.

Maybe a hand to hold onto.

The hero closed their eyes for just a moment. They figured no one would see the tear running down their cheek when it rained cats and dogs like this.

When had they become this fragile? They couldn’t remember. But they knew the wound burnt into their shoulder and that the blood would seriously trouble them in a few minutes.

They were sure they’d pass out any second now.

“You’re going to catch a cold.”

The hero gathered the strength to look up and to their surprise, they saw their nemesis, all dressed up. Confused, the hero looked around, only to find the two guards further away, talking quietly. They avoided to look into their direction.

The villain looked upset.

“You…”

The villain shook their head and tutted. They crouched and their fancy clothes got drenched in filthy puddle water. The hero wanted to protest but forming words was so, so difficult right now.

“You don’t look good,” the villain said. They cupped the hero’s face with one hand but the hero realised a little too late that it wasn’t an offer of affection. The villain was merely checking if they had a fever. In their voice was a hint of frustration. “I’m sorry about that.”

“…about?” The villain’s hands went over the hero’s body quickly and even though the hero understood they were searching for broken bones, they wanted the villain’s hand to stay on them a little longer.

“My guards...I’m sorry they treated you like that.” Now, the villain’s voice was calmer. A bit more controlled.

“Oh…” The hero tasted bile. For whatever reason, they felt bad that the villain was here, getting their clothes all dirty and punishing their guards.

No matter what they did, the hero felt like a burden. Even now when they truly needed help.

“What happened to your shoulder?” the villain asked.

“Are you gonna kill them?” the hero asked quietly.

“The people who did this to you? Probably.”

“I meant your guards,” the hero said. They stared at the two, suddenly feeling anxious. Maybe they shouldn’t have come here. Whatever they touched only decayed.

But the villain chuckled softly. The hero felt some sort of relief.

“No, of course not,” they said. Nevertheless, their gaze on the two wasn’t that friendly. “They’ll get a scolding, of course. But there’s no need for any harsh punishments.”

Their expression was soft now and the hero couldn’t help but feel the sweet comfort of their enemy’s hands on them. The pain in their shoulder was merciless and they were quite sure death was already kissing them. But it didn’t feel urgent.

“…your clothes,” the hero whispered. The expensive fabric was drenched in blood and rain. The hero felt guilty.

“I won’t go to the auction, don’t worry.”

“The auction?” the hero whispered but they started to feel quite lightheaded.

“Don’t worry about that. One more thing, though. You told my guards you can’t go home. Why’d you come here?” the villain asked. The hero didn’t realise it yet but the villain pulled them closer to pick them up.

“Ah, that’s kinda embarrassing—”

“I won’t judge you.” The villain’s lips brushed the hero’s ear now and the hero couldn’t help but shiver.

They grabbed the hero, ready to pick them up and the hero nearly mistook them for an angel.

“I kinda still live with my parents…I know it’s embarrassing but—”

“Don’t worry.” The villain’s smile was warm. “Today you’ll stay with me.”

The hero knew there was no room for a debate.

[loveriotss]

hihihi!! i love your shinso texts and your writing style is amazing !!! i was wondering if you could maybe do some sick headcannons with him😖😖

SICK HEADCANNONS WITH HIM ⸻ hitoshi shinso

INCLUDES — gn! reader, headcannons, fluff, slight crack

main masterlist — mha masterlist ༊*·˚

IF YOU FELL SICK . . .

when you fall sick, 90% of the time it's one that could have been avoided if you had listened to shinso's advice. perhaps you were sick today because you had gone out on that rainy day yesterday despite shinso's warnings.

shinso can tell something is wrong when you randomly don't reply to his messages in the afternoon and so he decides to visit your room.

when he finds you laying on your bed, he shakes his head and checks your temperature through your forehead with the back of his hand.

"i told you so" "shut up"

and thus the afternoon turns into shinso being your personal nurse.

he makes sure you're wrapped up in your blanket properly, closing the windows to keep out the cold air.

he'd even put on some fuzzy cat socks on your feet after seeing you try to rub your freezing toes on your blanket in an attempt to defrost them.

will not leave your side at all.

makes sure you've drank enough water and taken your meds properly.

will even cook you a nice warm soup, spoon feeding you gently.

he will nag you to take care of yourself and how stupid it was of you to go out, all while lovingly caressing your hair and being at your beck and call.

you found it a bit silly that he was getting so worried about a little cold you had, but were grateful nonetheless.

after he makes sure that you're comfortable, he will climb into bed with you despite your complaints that he will get sick too.

will cuddle with you, giving your body extra warmth until the two of you drift off to sleep.

IF HE FELL SICK . . .

whenever shinso falls sick, it's mostly because of him overworking his body while training which results in him losing his voice and having body aches.

he thinks hes soo slick by texting you that he's going to bed early so you won't know he's sick. THE shinso hitoshi going to bed early?? not possible.

in under 5 minutes you are knocking on his door. when he unlocks the door for you, you find him looking even more tired than he usually does. his room is in bit of a mess, he hasn't changed out of his uniform and your suspicions are confirmed.

after some nagging and pushing you finally got shinso down into his bed, clearing it up a bit before standing up with a satisfied grin.

"don't worry kitten, daddy will take care of you" "..leave me alone"

he still thinks he should be able to take care of himself but his body aches too much to even move so he reluctantly lets you do whatever you want.

you cook him some soup and herb tea, just like he does when you're sick.

you even put on some songs that he likes in a low and comfortable volume as you busied yourself in cleaning up his room a little.

shinso's eyes follow wherever you go, drinking his soup slowly. he has always kept to himself whenever he fell ill but having someone take care of him and his space mades him feel a bit fuzzy inside.

he won't admit it out loud though.

you stay by his side, caressing his purple locks gently, ignoring the forced glare he has on you because you were so close to him and he was getting nervous he didn't want you to catch his fever.

he's like a silent grumpy cat when he's sick, motioning that he can do things by himself but you never listen anyway.

when he does get better, he will take you out on a little date or shower you with affection. again he will not admit it out loud but he really is thankful that you take care of him when he's sick.

NOTE — helloo i didn't know if you were requesting for shinso to be sick or for the reader to be sick so i did both!!

©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. please don’t try to copy/steal my work. please do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.

[pompadorbz]

FINALLY FINISHED MY QPHIL 3.0 DESIGN HOORAY (cant wait to. redesign it again in like 3 months.) (CHECK UNDER THE CUT FOR MY SILLY DESIGN NOTES!!)

I think I said this before but i so. SO BADLY wanted him to have a sleep theme since I always loved how his presence on the island was kinda up in the air. Is it a dream? Is it not? When he goes between the island and hardcore is that change really happening? Who knows.

The idea of making his usual outfit more like a housecoat was super appealing to me, so I opted for this open housecoat look with really heavy frills which were super fun to figure out, and I knew from pretty early on that I wanted to give him a quilt pattern SOMEWHERE on his design, so I thought the inside of the coat would do nicely for a sorta "default state". It also meant I could attribute meaning to the symbols and colours I used. wink nudge.

He has a more subtle angel theme, like with the mobile on his walking stick being a halo with the wing placement further emphasizing this, as well as just his generally lighter colour scheme. When I say sleep was his theme I almost more-so imagine it as like. The feeling of waking up in the morning where you're mostly refreshed but still a LITTLE drowsy. Lots of very spring-y, morning colours.

Just some other quick notes, I always really liked the mod in the server where you could have the crows perch on your shoulder and follow cuz of the lantern, so I thought it'd be fun if I made it so brian just straight up WAS the lantern. So I made him look like one of those wall outlet nightlights!! The backpack being kinda cat shaped was COMPLETELY unintentional but a very welcome result. Missa backpack is real.

As for the alternate outfits, I have a bolas one, as well as an ender king one since I deemed those two the most important. For the ender king I weirdly don't have many notes, like it's fairly straightforward (Save for the elephant in the room but now I'm gonna keep my secrets on why that's a thing). The Quilt design is supposed to be a lighter, easier-on-the-eyes version of the no texture pattern, and I imagine that all the goop and gunk on Phil is hidden under the coat. I imagine it'd look fairly similar to canon so just like. imagine it for now. Might draw it one day. MAYBE. There's some tiny additional colour symbolism but I'll hold my tongue on that and let you guys draw your own conclusions there. I WILL say, however, that instead of his theme being sleep, his theme is "nightmare" (and also kinda sleepwalking since both fit).

The Bolas design was SUPER fun to work with. For starters I wanted the three designs to be in three different states. One with the coat, one with the coat reversed, and one without the coat entirely. Since I wanted to do the checker pattern thing with the possession design, having the sleeveless bolas design worked really well for the shape I landed on, even if it wasn't conventional. and SPEAKING of non-conventional design choices, I decided to go against the usual plague doctor + gas mask fusion design. Which might be controversial... But god. The moment I thought of his mask being a falconry hood, the idea just wouldn't leave my mind. Because of this, the full mask is kinda separated into two parts. The eye mask which kinda also mirrors his usual sleep mask, and the gas mask itself (I kept it in a beak shape since it'd feel odd if i made it any other shape for phil, lol). When designing the whole thing I kept thinking about more apocalypse setting clothing. Like mad max. Or the one gag from that one spongebob movie. Lots of leather. And of course, to match the other sleep themes, the Bolas outfit's theme is "fever dream", although its a bit more subtle. It's easily the weirdest design, The pops of green were simultaneously in reference to the friendship emerald... As well as... Well, the green chain right below the chain on the sickness themed design was probably the most tasteful way I could've chosen to get across vomit without it being too on the nose. (also sidenote, I had a few friends compare bolas phil to... a fly. Which wasn't intentional but it's kinda funny that the guy designed after fever dreams looks a little bit like a bug.) Ok thats it for design commentary I'm gonna go to bedge nyow.

[cinniipuppiii]

Fairy tail request!

Earth dragon slayer y/n who is like SICK x dragon slayers!

“You can get sick?!” - Dragon Slayers x Earth Dragon Slayer!Reader

Includes: Natsu, Gajeel, Wendy, Laxus, and GN!Reader

A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I thought I lost the request. WENDY IS PLATONIC. No Sting or Rogue bc… Im uhm…. Not there yet…. Might make a fic for Earth Dragon Slayer!Reader

—

The ground trembled as another sneeze left your body, causing you to hunch over a bit in the slightly uncomfortable bed you were laid in. If it was anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have been moved to the basement of your own guild. Because you’re a dragon slayer, one that controls the EARTH at that, they don’t want you to hurt yourself or anyone else.

Of course, the room was kinda cozy. There were pictures that were previously mounted on the wall, but now they’re on the ground due to you shaking the room. There’s lights, pretty ones at that. Probably fire lacrima or something.

Your exceed sat on the nightstand, a box of tissues in its tiny (color) paws. “I told you it wasn’t a smart idea to go to the mountain with them! Now you’ve got a nasty illness!!” It scolded, eyes clouded with worry for its best friend. “I’m fine, (exceed name). I’ll recover soon.” You took the tissue that your (color) colored furry friend offered you, blowing as softly as you can so you didn’t destroy the wall. Man, being an Earth dragon slayer sucks!

Every now and then, people would come check on you. More specially: Levy, Mirajane, and the master. They have you medicine and helped with whatever you needed.

Suddenly, you froze as a familiar scent filled your nose. They’re here. You knew they were gonna visit you sooner or later.

The chained door was burst open by a certain pyro. As much as you wanted to see his stupid face, you didn’t want to get him as sick as you. Maybe he would sneeze fire, that wouldn’t be good. “Y/NNN!! How are ya feelin’?!” The pinkette yelled, his own blue furry friend following suit. “Aye!! We brought you some hot honey tea, from Mirajane!!” He flew over beside (Exceed Name) and sat the cup down.

(Exceed Name) placed the tissues next to it as it picked up the steaming cup of tea. Before it could fly over to you to give it, Natsu stopped it. “No, I wanna do it.” His voice sounded serious, but his face… he was pouting like a child. “You are such a child, but here.” Your cat handed the cup to the dragon boy carefully, knowing damn well he wasn’t about to be careful with you.

Surprisingly, he was. “Say ahh!!” He smiled widely, a nice attempt at lifting your spirits. You did as told and he gently placed the cup near your mouth. When you seemed satisfied with the sip, he pulled the cup back and placed it back down. “How’s that taste? I hope it’ll make you feel better soon!! We miss ya up there!!”

You chuckled, but it was cut off by a nasty coughing fit. This seemed to cause the pink haired dumbass to panic as the room rumbled. “Woah!! How’re ya doin’ that?” He asked, eyes full of sparkles. “I’m the Earth Dragon Slayer, dear. Did you forget?” The nickname seemed to flow from your tongue as if it was natural. It was, and he still enjoyed hearing it. His cheeks turned the slightest bit red as his smile only widened. “I know!! I still find ya cool!!”

Before you could say anything else, his lips met yours softly. You would’ve rejected it because you didn’t wanna get him sick, but you were so deprived of his love that you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. He pulled away and gave you a toothy grin. “Maybe that‘ll do the trick!!” He laughed heartily as your face lit up, and not just from your fever. “Ewwww!! Get a room you two!!” Happy stuck his tongue out at the two of you, which Natsu ignored.

He sat on the side of your bed, smile turning into something more sweet. “Really, get better. I’m not goin’ on another mission without cha! Got it?” He put his hand out to you. You weakly put your hand to his and smiled as best as you could. “Yeah. Of course!”

A bit has passed. Just as you said, you got him sick.

The door opened roughly, almost getting unhinged as a certain iron headed freak walked in. “Hey. How’ve you been?” He asked, almost demanded. Behind him, Pantherlily followed in silence. “I’ve been better.” As you spoke, a sneeze erupted from your body, causing the pictures on the ground to shift even further away from their landing spot. It even shook the two boneheads who walked in the room. “That’s one nasty sneeze.” Lily remarked, a surprised expression on his tiny face.

You chuckled weakly and moved your hand to pat the spot on your bed. “Don’t be so hard on them! They’re sick!” (Exceed Name) pouted, its cheeks pudding up at the other exceed mocking its poor friend. “I’m doing no such thing.” He replied calmly, turning his tiny back to your friend. You just smiled and turned your attention back to your boyfriend, who was now sitting at your side.

“I didn’t even know you could get sick. Ain’t that your whole shtick?? You being a natural healer or somethin’? Like Wendy?” He questioned kinda angrily. He was confused as hell, and you could tell. “Sorta. I’ll explain it all when I’m better.” You scooted closer to him and curled your body around the part of him that sat next to you. He was warm, warmer than your body.

He leaned into you, face dusting a light pink. “Whatever. I hope you feel better, squirt.” You put a large, rough hand on your head and ruffled your (hair type) locks. “Stay with me a bit longer, please?” Your face was so sad that he ALMOST said it out loud. He sighed heavily, turning his body so he could lay beside you. He put an arm around you and rested the other one on his chest.

You leaned into him as well and gently rested your smaller hand in his messy, black locks. “Thank you, ‘Jeel.” He just scoffed and turned his head from you. He didn’t want to see just how flustered you made him, even when you weren’t trying.

Even if he got sick a week later, it was worth being able to comfort you during your weakest time.

The door opened gently, revealing a peaking Wendy. “Hey, Y/n! How are you feeling??” Her kind, chipper voice called out to you. You sneezed again, causing her to lose her footing and almost fall on Carla. “Are you okay, child?” The white cat asked as she flew behind her friend and held her up. “Yeah, I’m fine, Carla.”

You took a tissue from (Exceed Name) and blew your nose as carefully as you could, so you wouldn’t hurt your best friend. You put it in the small, nearly full, trash can that was placed near your bed. “Sorry, Wendy.” She walked over to your bedside, a worried look on her face. “I’m fine, please don’t be sorry!!”

She thought for a moment. “Aren’t you like me? Sorry if it sounds like I’m overstepping, but aren’t you a healer?” She questioned while observing your sick form. “Naturally, yeah. When I heal other illnesses, they come to me.” You replied, beautiful (color) colored eyes looking right back at her.

Without a word, she placed her hands on you and created a magic circle above your laying form. It took a second, but eventually, your illness faded. It was amazing having another healer around. “Thank you, Wendy.” “Don’t waste your magic, child!”

You giggled and tried to sit up, only to be stopped. “You aren’t fully healed, but you’ll heal faster now!” She smiled and placed some medicine on your nightstand. (Exceed Name) flew over to Wendy and sat on her head. “Good thing we got another healer. Y/n would be toast!” It joked, laughing at your pain lovingly.

Wendy chuckled pitifully, patting your head gently. “Want something to drink? I heard hot tea will help!” She suggested as she jumped away from your bed. “That would be nice.” You smiled weakly and giggled.

She nodded and looked for Carla. “Come on, Carla! Let’s get them some tea!” The sky dragon slayer said, picking up her feline friend. You watched her leave the room.

The door opened roughly and closed just the same. The smell that filled your senses was the man of the hour, the electric dragon himself. He crossed his arms and walked over to you without saying a word. “You’re an idiot, doll.” He shook his head in disappointment. He sat on the side of your bed, making you sink a bit more into the bed.

You laughed weakly. “Stop teasing them! They’re ill!” Your feline friend pointed a clawed finger at the blonde, causing him to glare at it. It jumped and slowly backed away under his intense stare. “Got a problem, cat?” “No…”

“Don’t be mean to them, love.” You placed your hand on his left elbow, gently squeezing to try and get him to let up. He sighed and turned his head to your smaller form. “Get better already. You’re strong.” He said, almost as if he was talking to himself.

Your eyes met his as you gained the energy to tease him. “Aw, you care about me.” You chuckled and rubbed his arm. He sighed and narrowed his eyes at you. “Shut up. Of course I do.” He placed a large hand on your head and pushed you back down.

“Wanna cuddle for a bit? Your immune system is better than mine and I miss you.” He would’ve said no if it wasn’t for the look you were giving them. “Fine. If you get me sick, that’s your fault.” As he agreed, he pushed you gently to the side and laid next to you. You pulled yourself into him and smiled, his scent filling your senses.

He wasn’t going to admit it, but he missed you too. He wanted you to feel better. He wanted you by his side again. You were warm, probably from your fever. He knew Mirajane gave you some medicine, but he still can’t help but worry. He would’ve left if it wasn’t for the fact you fell asleep on him.

He ended up getting sick, but he hid it well.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König Rarely Gets Sick, But When He Does...

Inspired by this ask that I was given earlier.

Okay so let's be clear, König grew up in a great home, as mentioned before in this post. He also hated school. So König grew up to absolutely master the art of pretending to be sick. He did the whole 'making fake vomit with oatmeal and orange juice' trick at 5am just to place it around his bed for his mother to find when she woke him up the next morning. I just want to point this out, as one kid with anxiety to another, if you could get out of school as a kid you did (or at least I did because I was a wuss). So, if König just didn't feel up to school on that particular day, he'd pretend to be sick and spend the day being doted upon by his sweet, oblivious and ever-loving mother. He was such a little shit as a kid.

But when König is actually sick, it's a mess. Oh my lord is it ever a mess. He's disgusting. He's a snot and/or vomit factory (almost always both). He refuses to shower or bathe so he gets sweaty and gross and he'll lay in one spot all day, and when you peel him out of it, he leaves a damp patch behind as an unpleasant reminder of his sickness. He's genuinely terrible.

But he's your terrible mess and you need to care for him.

Read below the cut for a more detailed explanation of what König is like when sick.

The worst part of dealing with König is that he can't pretend he's not sick. He used to pretend to be sick, now he tries to pretend he's not and it fails miserably. When König actually gets sick there's no hiding it.

See, König doesn't get the common cold. What he gets are fevers. Bad fevers. There's been a few times that he's had to go to hospital to get his temperatures in check. He's gotten dangerously close to getting seizures because he was so determined to not take care of himself. Thankfully, this only happens at most once a year (two or three if you have kids in preschool) but other than that, he's healthy as a horse.

The thing is, while he's being gross and smelly and awful, he's a big suck for you. He's no longer a man when he gets a fever, he becomes little more than a big wet cat. Absolutely, genuinely terrible. He will flop all over the place like a wet fish and moan terribly. He gets grumpy and angry over nothing, but instead of being in his right mind and having the sense to properly communicate himself, he'll just make bitter comments and curse under his breath as though he never left the barracks. Not at you, mostly at himself. He gets incredibly upset about falling ill and needing the support of others. You'll have to work to keep up his self esteem when he gets sick.

He's a belligerent little bug all the way through. He'll avoid moving like the plague because he knows if he tries to stand that the room will start spinning. He also knows that he can't ask you for everything, so he'll sulk miserably for hours before asking for your help to get up. He is absolutely horrible about asking for your help. At this rate, you'll need to frequently check in on him or else he'll be writhing under the covers when you next check on him. He really doesn't want to overwhelm you, but he takes this to an extreme. He just wants to make things easier for you. He hates being a burden, or at the very least, he hates being weak.

He appreciates the frequent check-ins because he always has something he wants. Maybe a glass of water, maybe a new bucket, maybe even a new book to read. He's a needy man sometimes. Out in the field he has to do everything himself, so having someone there to look after him means the world to him. He'll never be able to thank you enough for what you do for him.

He's a big fan of Vick's Vaporub and slathers himself in Tiger Balm like he's trying to slide through a straw (and yes it's that disgustingly awful). He will often ask for you to apply these balms to him if you can. He also will often put a bit of vaporub under his nose to help keep his nose from chaffing. He absolutely hates how he needs so many tissues. You'll find him sniveling in the middle of the night, covered by a mountain of crumpled tissues piled over empty boxes.

König often ends up making a nest wherever he plops down. If he needs to go somewhere, he's draped in a blanket, carrying his sick bucket, hauling a box of tissues under one arm along with a book, his phone, and anything else he thinks he might possibly need. He leaves a bit of a snail trail of discarded tissues and dropped items wherever he goes. He is a little bit of a pig, really. But you can't be mad at him. If he bends over, the vertigo might make him fall over. He does try to stay neat, but when he's this sick it's hard to be clean.

In the end, the main thing that helps König is you being there. If you're there to keep him clean, change his sheets, feed him broth soups and light meals, he'll be happy. Dote on him with kisses on his forehead and tuck him in when he sleeps. If he's really sick, maybe you can read that history book he's reading for him. If you can do his chores for a few days, he'll pay you back when he can. He cannot possibly express how much he appreciates all you do for him.

He'll give you space if you want it. If you get disgusted by being around sick people, he won't force you to care for him or do something you can't manage, but if you're willing to hold him he'll be elated. He loves being close to you. He loves being pampered by you, and he'll remember these moments fondly. The last time someone treated him so well was when he was sick as a little boy. Having you here and caring for him makes him feel safe in a way he hasn't felt in decades.

[jezabelle9299]

Sick day S.R x fem!Reader

Overture:Reader’s sick on paperwork day, so Spencer goes to check on her.

Warnings: descriptions of a cold/ flu, taking liquid medicine without measuring it, terrible fire safety, some parts are a teensy bit suggestive because I can’t resist. (It’s all inner monologue stuff, no one actually does anything, but R is in a short nightgown that is very distracting for Spencer), also she has a cat named Buttons

You felt like death warmed over. It was paperwork day at the office and you were mostly caught up, so you decided to just send Hotch a quick text letting him know you couldn’t come in before moving sluggishly around your apartment. By the time you made it back to your bed you had a small box of tissues, the longest movie you owned in the dvd player, and a bottle of Nyquil with a straw in it. You didn’t have the energy to measure. You lit a candle to try and keep the stale feeling of sickness from completely overtaking your room. You felt gross and needed to change before the cold medicine totally knocked you out, so you chose a short nightgown in an attempt to keep you from sweating as much as you were in the fluffy pajama set you woke up in.

Every couple hours you drifted awake, enough to get a small sip of water, and pull your hair up out of your face. You didn’t even notice the knock on your apartment door, same as you hadn’t noticed the calls from your concerned coworkers. They knew you lived alone and weren’t feeling well, so when you didn’t answer their calls they sent Spencer. He finished his paperwork already, so he left before everyone else. When you didn’t answer your door he thought of every worst case scenario, before getting it together and letting himself in with the key you gave him. He’d never used it, but everyone on the team had a copy for safety.

What you did manage to notice through your delirium was a knock on your bedroom door. It didn’t really surprise you, Penelope came over a lot and when she did, she often let herself in. You grumbled something that was supposed to sound like “come in” but was more like a vague groan. You only noticed it wasn’t Penelope from the cautious way he opened the door, and his small “hey” and accompanying wave. You opened your eyes the rest of the way, and sat up in bed, wincing from the small movement. Spencer walked into your room, as you rubbed your eyes.

“Hey, what’s up? Is there a problem at work?” You started to gently move the covers, in a terrible attempt to get out of bed and back on the job. Spencer quickly covered you back up, really trying not to notice your attire. He was there to check on you, not stare. You may be the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, but you weren’t doing this for him. He knew that. He did not know that the possibility of him seeing you in this version of dolled-up (Sans fever and red nose) had crossed your mind, several times in fact. It was probably for the best that he covered you back up though, because there was no way you were successfully making it out of that bed.

“No, no case. Just checking on you, you weren’t answering your phone.” it was said without accusation or inconvenience, and you once again realized how sweet Spencer is. As if you needed a reminder. You still apologized, you didn’t want him or anyone on the team to worry.

“Sorry, my phone’s around here somewhere, I guess I just didn’t hear it.”

“Oh no, it’s ok. We just wanted to make sure you were ok, plus I finished my paperwork early.” He looked away from you for half a second, and the still lit candle caught his attention.

“I’ll spare you the fire safety statistics for now because you’re sick. But this is going out when I leave, because you really shouldn’t sleep with it lit.”

“For the record I’d love to listen to you talk about– well, anything really. And ambiance over safety is something I’ll choose any day.” He looked like he was going to have a stroke. You assumed it was the blatant disregard for fire safety, which was part of it. But it was mostly his heart jumping at you wanting to listen to him. You were always sweet to him, but it was something he never got used to, never got tired of.

“I’ll tell you later, it’ll be long and unconversational.” You just gave him the best smile you could manage, you were excited, but also in ridiculous pain.

“Also how long has that song been playing, and how have you not gone insane yet?”He was referring to the soundtrack on the dvd menu of your movie. It bothered you a few hours ago, but by now you’d chosen to just tune it out. The TV didn’t have a remote and you weren’t annoyed enough to get up to deal with it.

“A few hours, and that time has come and gone. The TV doesn’t have a remote, and it’s not bad enough to deal with yet.” He reached over and turned it off for you, making it look so easy. As you were about to respond you were cut off by an incredibly painful coughing fit, which sent your cat running from his spot under the covers, back to the floor. Spencer jumped back, almost falling over at the sight.

“You have a cat?!” He was clutching his chest like he was having a heart attack, but you just giggled at the ball of fur cautiously approaching him before falling at his feet. It was a gross, congested laugh but Spencer still thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

“I do, his name’s Buttons. Seems like he likes you.” Spencer got down on one knee, to give Buttons a small bit of his attention before turning it back to you and standing up.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you have a fever? Did you eat? I know you need more electrolytes, I could get you a bottle of water.” You loved listening to him talk, but you were still in a dense fog. By the time he finished you couldn’t remember what he started with. You knew you wanted more medicine, but you had no idea what time it was, and if you could take more.

“What time is it?” Spencer quickly looked down at his watch and replied “3:48” and you let out a huge sigh of relief, it had been almost 6 hours, so you could take more.

Oh thank god. Could you hand me that bottle of cold medicine?” When you pointed to your nightstand, and among the dvds and books he saw the bottle, no cap, no measuring cup to indicate dosage, and a pink bendy straw sticking out of it like it was soda.

“Have you been drinking this straight from the bottle?” You were already in for a fire safety lecture, why not one on the importance of proper dosage? You faked outrage, actually just leading to another small coughing fit.

“Of course not. I drank it through a straw like a lady.” He looked between you and the bottle twice before grabbing it, and muttering a quiet “absolutely not”. Then he walked out with the medicine, back down the hallway.

“Spencer Reid, get back here” You attempted to call out, but your voice was hoarse, and you had no idea if he could actually hear you. Of course he came back not even a minute later, with a proper amount of medication, as well as a cold bottle of water. And you immediately downed them both.

“Now do you have a fever?” You gave a vague shrug, which was definitely not the answer he was looking for.

“Can’t be certain, I don’t have a thermometer. I assume so though.” When he leaned forward to put a hand to your forehead, you moved back just as quick. You were already embarrassed he was seeing you pale, red, and exhausted. You didn’t need him to feel the sweat definitely occupying your forehead. But you didn’t want him to think it wasn’t ok to touch you other times, when you were feeling a little more confident. You weren’t quite coherent enough to lie and make up another reason that he shouldn’t touch you, so you looked away and mumbled the truth.

“You don’t want to touch me right now. I’m gross. And full of germs.” You tacked on the last part, because if nothing else deterred him, you figured the prospect of germs might. But he rolled his eyes at you, and leaned further until he could finally feel your temperature. Both of you were actively trying to ignore how he was leaning over you in your bed.

“We spend most of our time together, we’re past the point of avoiding each other's germs. Not to mention that diseases are most contagious before symptoms appear, and I sat next to you on the plane yesterday.” He sat back, and you got up from where you were practically laying down.

“You definitely have a fever, but the Nyquil will help soon. Have you eaten today?”

“Yes” You weren’t a great liar on a good day, you certainly wouldn’t fool Spencer now. He just gave you a look like he couldn’t believe you were even going to try.

“I brought soup, let’s go to the dining room and I’ll heat it up for you. The little bit of walking will be good for your circulation if you’re feeling up to it.” You nodded and he held both of your hands to get you up as smoothly as possible. Then by the grace of go you put on a large jacket that covered you a little bit more, and helped Spencer feel a little less crazy, stupid, and creepy.

You ate together, in a companionable silence. Every once in a while you’d ask Spencer to tell you about something obscure and wonderful, and he would, with a passion that never ceased to make you smile. By the time you were done, the medicine started to make you a little loopy. Spencer coerced you back to your bed, picked up your cat to put him next to you. Which didn’t work even a little bit, as soon as he put him down he jumped back up to hide under the bed, but the thought was very sweet.

“Get some more rest, I’ll tell Hotch you need a few more days, and I’ll see you at work when you get back. Penelope said she’d make you her mothers vegetable soup recipe if it was the last thing she did, so expect that tomorrow.” You gave a delighted hum, Penelope didn’t like cooking, she didn’t really do so often, so this was huge for her. And the fact that it was for your benefit made you feel fussed over in a way you never thought possible. Loved, and yet somehow not suffocated. You snuggled back into your pillows, and let words slip you had said in your head a million times.

“This is why I love you Spencer, you’re so sweet to me” you had no idea you just shattered his heart and put it back together in a second. He dreamed of you saying those words to him, frequently. And the first time he actually hears them from your lips you’re half asleep and giving off enough heat to cook an egg. The fact you likely wouldn’t even hear him, let alone remember by the time you’re feeling better and the fog has lifted he allowed himself, just this once to be honest in this regard.

“I love you too.” Then he quietly left you to sleep peacefully, blowing out the candle on his way out, and secretly wishing you meant what you said. He didn’t believe in wishes, and in many religions that use candles as part of rituals or spells, blowing out the candle defeats the purpose, with the flame needing to burn to its fullest, or be gently snuffed out. But he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, stop himself from chanting his wish in his head as the flame went out, leaving only a puff of smoke behind.

His words echoed through your brain in sleep, to the point where you weren’t sure he’d actually said them by the next morning. You told yourself it didn’t even matter. If he did say them, it was platonic. He was just placating you while you weren’t feeling well. 2 days in bed, 24 hours fever-free, and a long talk with Penelope later (Over her fantastic vegetable soup) you decided to tell Spencer how you felt. At this point you’d rather be awkward coworkers who have a hard time speaking than whatever this is. This is painful, and leaves you crying because you can’t think of why you can’t get over this crush. If he liked you back, which you truly hoped he did, it would be like that small piece of what you wanted fell perfectly into place. And if he didn’t, which was a thought that terrified you, but you tried to brace for, you at least needed to know for certain.

First thing in the morning, you got there as early as possible, catching up on paperwork while waiting on Spencer to get there. You greeted a majority of your team before, trying not to let them see your nervous energy, playing off any odd behaviors as residual from your sickness. You couldn’t tell if it was working. (It was not working, but they weren’t going to say anything).

You asked Spencer to help you find a file for your paperwork and he thought he was in the clear. You either didn’t remember his little love confession, or were ignoring it for his benefit. Either way he was happy, he could continue to peacefully, painfully, pine for you without ever having to hear the finality of his inevitable rejection. He could imagine a world where he was yours, until the idea alone withered him to nothing. He could just follow you to the file room like a lost puppy dog.

Once the door was closed behind the two of you, you must’ve cleared your throat 3 times by now. You planned out what you were going to say, but everything felt off, too planned at best.

“So—um, sorry, I haven’t really done this before. I. I really like you, and not in like a friendly coworker way, in like a dating, relationship-y way. And I totally get it if you don’t feel the same way, we can totally just forget about it, but I just wanted to…tell you, I guess.”

It was like every nerve in his body blinked. Like his entire nervous system shutdown from happiness. He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t respond, because he couldn’t speak. But you were looking at him, for any sign one way or the other, so he got an extremely rushed response out, slower than the stream of his thoughts, but still barely understandable.

“I like you too, in a romantic sense, I mean. I thought you knew, I can’t believe you actually— you actually like me, like that.” You held his hands and gave him a kiss on the cheek, pulling him down a little bit so his face was actually within the reach of your lips.

“How could I ever not?” He pulled you in for a hug, and if it was any tighter he probably would have popped your back. Until you whispered into his collar.

“We should probably go back, we are technically on the clock, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we have some pretty nosey coworkers.” He laughed as he pulled back from you. But the laugh subsided into a nervous smile.

“Will you go to dinner with me tonight? For our first date?” He still sounded scared that you’d run away, that it was all some cruel joke and you’d yell ‘sike’ as you left him behind in the small room. But you didn’t you smiled and nodded and he held your hand when you walked out.

But when he opened the door for you, Penelope, Derek, and Emily came tumbling out, nearly falling over in the process. Clearly having been leaning against the door trying to eavesdrop. Unsuccessfully apparently, since they don’t hear you coming. When you cocked an eyebrow at their actions Penelope just waved you off.

“So?how’d it go? New power couple? Can I alert the masses?” You just laughed, she still hasn’t noticed you holding hands.

“Seems like you already did.” Then you ignored everyone’s questions walking off to your desks, as Emily pointed out your interlocked hands to Penelope and she practically swooned on your behalf.

[aspergerasparagus]

I have an Milkshake idea for you What if one day

the contestant has a fever and frankie Take care of him And in a scene frankie cuddling and nuzzling the sick contestant While frankie does purred like a cat.

frankie drown the contestant with affection Because frankie knows a golden opportunity when he gets one.

of course The contestant must be healthy For better show performance

But at the same time this gives him an excuse to cuddling and nuzzling the contestant

Typically Frankie didn’t need to wake his little contestant up. They were usually already awake and dressed when he came to collect them so it was an unusual sight to see them still buried under the covers when he arrived. Tutting he sauntered over, expecting to yank the poor man out of his bed and scold him for sleeping in but he caught himself as he reached for the sheets. Lucky was curled up, his breath laboured as his whole body shivered beneath the thick covers. Leaning down he gently slipped the mask from their face, something he wouldn’t have condoned but the circumstances needed him to bend the rules slightly. The man’s face was flushed, his forehead stained with sweat. Sighing Frankie pushed their bangs away as he placed his forehead against theirs, the man was burning up. The action was enough to finally cause Lucky to stir, his eyes snapping open as he was greeted by the rabbit so close to his face.

“F-Frankie?! What the hell, are you trying to kill me?” The sudden outburst made Lucky clutch his head whining, finally remembering just how sick he was as a wave of nausea came over him.

“You know the answer to that already but for now I guess I’ll have to do the reverse. You’ve gotten sick somehow. Maybe something you’ve eaten? It’s not like anyone here could give you something…”

“The whole facility is covered in corpses, you stupid rabbit…” Ah, yes. Frankie was used to the corpses that had been mounting up through the years as it wasn’t like any of them had to worry about them but with a living human amongst them it had only been a matter of time before he contracted something. He’d have to make a note to maybe get rid of a few of them in the incinerator when Lucky was better.

Clearing his throat the rabbit tried to other the man a sympathetic look which only earned him a weak scowl in return. 

“Well yes, that was… an oversight of mine. I’ll rectify it in time but for now let’s focus on getting you fighting fit again. I can’t have my star dying on me before the next season.” Lucky just gave him a look of displeasure at the mere thought of Frankie looking after him. Rude.

“Can you just leave me to die in peace? I don’t want you of all people caring for me.” 

“Absolutely not. You’re worth too much for me to lose you to some stupid fever. So put on your big boy pants and stop complaining. And besides don’t couples dote on one another in their partners time of need?~” The voice change and implication of a relationship between them just made Lucky groan and crawl back under the covers as he tried to go back to sleep.

“Please kill me…”

After collecting some medicine (Lucky insisted on checking it all, even after Frankie said it was fine) and some water, Frankie had managed to get him settled back under the covers. He still looked terrible but luckily whatever energy he did previously had had finally run out and he couldn’t deny the rabbit’s help any longer. Which did give Frankie an idea. It wasn’t like he’d have this opportunity again so without asking he crawled hid way onto the other side of Lucky’s bed.

“You have got to be kidding me…” Lucky was far too weak by now and with the medicine kicking in he was powerless as Frankie pulled him against his chest and buried his face against his little contestant’s hair.

“I heard cuddling can assist in speeding up healing, plus it’s not like you can do anything to stop me~”

“If I could, I would strangle you.”

“Oooh naughty, save that for when you're better and I might let you~” Lucky just shot him a look as Frankie chuckled, but he couldn’t find the energy to fight back right now.

“Shut up and just let me sleep. You can do… whatever this is just make sure I have more water and meds for when I wake up.” Purring, Frankie snuggled closer as Lucky finally began to drift off again.

“Of course, I’d do anything for you sweetheart just rest and heal up okay~!” Frankie could only giggle as he received a weak punch to his chest before Lucky finally passed out in his arms.

[shysuccubusstuff]

zayne's bunny

Content: Established relationship, pet names (kinda corny?), consensual, non-proof reader (as always).

Note: This is based on the Heartfelt Paradise date in which he sort of calls the MC bunny.

A few minutes after you called him, Zayne appeared at the door, his face as calm as always, but his body language showed how he was a bit anxious after your friends had to call him, as you refused to move if he didn't go to pick you up. You suddenly felt how two strong arms took you, lifting you as if you were as light as a feather and making you a bit more dizzy.

"I'll take her home, sorry." Zayne lost no time, simply explaining how he was a childhood friend of yours, quickly leaving some of his own money on the table and leaving shortly after his arrival.

He got you on the passenger seat, allowing you to rest and putting a small blanket he had inside his car, almost chuckling at how you tried to clinge to his body heat.

"My cute girlfriend has turned into a little bunny?" He let a soft smile escape his lips, but he got focused and entered the car, driving towards your home while avoiding the traffic that was around that hour.

A few minutes later both of you had arrived to your house, once again, Zayne took your body in a bridal style, putting your password into the door and entering your house, closing the door before letting your soft body on top of your bed. He thought about changing your clothes, as you still had your formal clothes on, but as you hadn't done anything of that type, he simply opened the sheets, covering you with them. Just as he was about to get out of the room and perhaps sleep in the living room, your hand stopped him, your fingers tightly clinging to his shirt.

"What's the matter, darling?" He got close once again, his hand on top of your forehead, making sure that you didn't have any fever caused by the rain that had got both of you a bit wet (not enough to worry, but maybe your health was a bit weaker than his).

"Zayne...don't leave me..." Your words were sluggish, making you sound almost too cute to bear. He smiled, trying to get your grip to soften, as he knew he wouldn't have the heart to leave you after you begged him with such an alluring tone, almost making him way too weak for his taste.

"It's quite late at night, so both of us should rest a little, we can spend as much time together as you want tomorrow, it's that ok?" He tried to act as calm as possible, he knew you were still a bit drunk, so it was obviously not ok for him to do anything that you could regret the next morning. As soon as he got up, ready to leave the room he was pulled, making him fall on top of you. "(name)! Are you ok? You should be careful, I could have harmed you after falling on top of you." While he was complaining about your boldness and lack of self-awareness, you curled around him, your arms surrounding him and even having the nerve to get on top of him, cosying on his chest and smiling just like a small cat would do. He was about to complain once again, but he simply sighed, taking off his shoes and getting both of you on the bed, starting to dooze off as the time went on.

By the time you woke up, it was around five in the morning, suddenly feeling certain warmth under you, as you checked, you realized it was Zayne, who was still asleep, hair undone and his shirt with a few buttons open, allowing you to touch his bare chest. You were about to get out of the bed, but his hands stopped you, pulling you into his chest and whispering against your ear "Dear... why are you moving? You didn't move during the whole night but now you're all lively all of sudden? Are you trying to rile me up?" While he was saying that, you realized that there was something a bit too close to your lower half, you tried to move with even more agitation, causing his grip to strengthen and hearing him grunt.

"(name)... why are moving so much? Do you want to let go that badly? But you were the one that invited me to your bed." Zayne finally opened his eyes, locking eyes with each other.

"Zayne!... your thing is..." You tried to explain it, trying to get up and sitting on top of him, the face of Zayne reddened a bit, suddenly feeling his bulge even more prominent against you. Instead of what you expected, his grip changed, moving his cold hands to your hips and sending shivers all through your body. He got up, sitting in the bed and putting your foreheads together.

"Are you trying to test me...? I'm not made of ice, I hope you know that..." One of his hands moving his hand upwards, getting some of your hair out of your face and kissing your lips, bitting you a bit and making you whine, the heat starting to rise up.

"Zayne... I want to..." Your hands thrilled up his body, kissing his neck and collarbones his lips parting and allowing soft moans to leave his mouth. "No fair." As he said that, his hands got under your shirt, lifting it up and getting rid of it in the process and tossing it to the side. He made a trail if kisses, starting on your soft lips and moving until he reached your bare chest, almost causing you to melt on the spot. As he heard your pretty moans, he got even more euphoric, finally being able to touch your bare skin without any type of contemplation. His hands started to play with your nipples, caressing them without applying too much force and kissing them, giving them subtle nibbles, teasing you while his member was starting to grow bigger under you.

"Darling..." His deep voice resonated in your ear, almost making you whine from goosebumps that were caused just by his voice. While you wrapped your arms around his back, he got you up, switching your positions, allowing you to truly see the great size difference between both of you, as he was clearly towering over your frame. He lowered, kissing your soft lips and letting his hands run around your cushiony body. His hands finally reached your pants, slowly getting rid of them and throwing them just as he had done before with the rest of your clothes, he got his hands on your knees, opening your legs and seeing the wet patch that was easily perceived in your underwear. Your face flushed, causing you to try to close your legs, but Zayne kept them open, smiling as he saw your flushed face. He wasted no time, getting his face close to your underwear and peppering all over it, his hands slowly drifting towards your special place. His fingers moved your panties to the side, sending butterflies to your tummy, Zayne was already playing with your clit with his mouth, while his fingers were preparing your entrance, making your head feel as light as a feather.

"You look so pretty like this, baby, all open and ready for me. Be a good girl and stay still, yeah? I will take care of everything." His deep voice sending shivers down your spine, moulding your mind and cohering you into becoming his pretty girlfriend, always ready for him.

You felt how he entered you, the stretching being painfully slow, but when he was finally balls-deep into you, you couldn't help but let out a soft whine, hugging his broad back as you tried your best not to cum on the spot. He waited a bit, making small movements until he finally felt you were relaxing a bit, then he started to create a kind of rhythm, your eyes rolling to your skull, did sex ever feel that good?

Suddenly you were moved, his big hands took your sore body and putting you on top, his hands being wrapped around your waist. Just as you were about to complain, he moved you a little, using just a tiny bit of his strength, with this new position the tip of his dick was almost piercing your cervix, making you go dumb on top of him

"What's wrong, baby? I though bunnies loved to jump, that's why I changed you, can't handle it?" Zayne was looking at you, eyes hazy from the pleasure, his calloused hands moving you up and down, grinding you against his dick, making you mewl with tears falling down your cheeks, making you cum on the spot, digging your nails on hid shoulders and causing you to lose the poor strength you had left.

He smiled as he felt your body shiver, your cunt holding him even tighter than before. He caressed your head, making small circles in your hips as a way to make you melt, his arms making you feel completely safe.

[heartsforvin]

DATING VINNIE HACKER

hcs about what i think it’d be like to date vin <3

warnings; slight mentions of sex, boner mention, mention of wanting to have kids, i think that’s all but as always, lmk if i missed anything (:

since vinnie is so well known you two decided to keep your relationship private, but not a secret. fans know he’s no longer single, they just don’t know who he’s dating.

the two of you will post pictures together, but not of faces, just like hands or the back of each others heads , kinda like if you were to soft launch the relationship without actually doing so.

the roommates LOVE you, as you with them. sometimes you love them more than vinnie.

he was so nervous to have you meet his parents and brother, but the minute you stepped in the door you were already engulfed in hugs by all three family members.

when vinnie would skate regularly, he’d take you with to skate with him / teach you how.

sometimes he’ll take you on trips, like if he has events to go to out of the country, he’ll take you with.

since it’s just the two of you in the hotel rooms, you know his horny ass will be fucking you all night.

when you can’t attend the events with him and both of you really miss each other, phone sex is suddenly your guys’ best friend.

sometimes when you’re over at his house and he’s streaming, you’ll accidentally start talking, forgetting that he’s streaming, and the chat will go crazy, asking vinnie who is in his room.

on days where neither of you are busy, the two of you will have a movie day, cuddling each other (hera joins you guys too ofc).

this man has the BIGGEST heart ever, so on holidays such as valentine’s day, he’ll go all out and plan a very cute date for the two of you, giving you the most cute gifts as well.

when you guys go back to seattle together he’ll take you around the city and show you all his favorite places he’d go to when he was in high school.

sometimes you’ll watch him and jett work on the cars in the garage and you can’t help but think of how hot your boyfriend looks while doing so.

vinnie knows you absolutely LOVE his long hair, so when he got it cut a little shorter than usual for the first time while being with you, he was so scared you wouldn’t find him attractive anymore.

“baby, you look so hot.” you’d say to him as you run your hand through his hair. the poor boy blushes so hard his cheeks are bright red.

he also knows how much you love his facial hair, sometimes he’ll shave it just to piss you off.

“vin! why’d you do that, you look so good with it!” you’d whine once you see that it’s no longer there.

when he leaves it for a few days you’ll get so excited, wondering when he’ll shave (you secretly wish it won’t be for awhile).

sometimes you’ll get him all riled up by whispering in his ear while with his friends and say, “better keep that for awhile, i love the way it feels when you’re in between my thighs.”

the poor boy will flush bright red and have to make an excuse to use the bathroom to get rid of his boner.

vinnie is for sure just a bit jealous. when out in public together you guys tend to keep the PDA to a minimum, but when he sees a guy that keeps checking you out, he’ll pull you in by the waist and kiss you, making the guy scoff and walk away.

same with you, you know girls are swooning for the boy, so when you hear a girl try to flirt with him, you’ll wrap your arms around his waist and kiss him.

one day vinnie had walked into his room and saw you cradling hera in your arms, kissing her head and the minute he saw that — instant baby fever.

“let’s make a baby.” he whispered in your ear, you just laughed.

“we’re too young for a baby right now, vin.”

“so you’re saying we can in the future?” his eyes lit up so bright you couldn’t help but smile. you told him maybe.

you would admit that he would make a great dad, he’s already an amazing cat dad to hera.

when your guys’ anniversary comes around he goes all out, getting reservations at your favorite restaurant, taking you out stargazing after, and just putting so much effort into it.

you’ll wear his tshirts so often they basically become yours, but vinnie doesn’t mind, he absolutely loves seeing you in them.

when the newest purgatory drops release, he’s sure to get you free merch for being his girl, and you love him for that.

besides all the sex jokes and him basically having a dirty mind 90% of the time, he’s the most caring and sweet boy ever, you can’t believe you get to call him yours.

he can’t believe he gets to call you his girl either, the two of you are so grateful for each other

first hc post i hope you liked it !! i got a little carried away LOL but as always, requests are open !! <3

[goldenempyrean]

Sleepy Scientist

〚 Notes - I wrote this AGES ago and forgot to post it... oops. I know I've been "somewhat" (a hell of a lot) absent, I've just been busy with life and other things :,) 〛

〚 Pairing - Lena Luthor x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Lena is overworked, you take the day to make sure she rests a little 〛

〚 Wordcount - 560 〛

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Lena Luthor was chronically overworked. You knew this. She knew this. Her colleagues knew this. It was just a generally well known fact. Yet despite this nobody ever seemed to be able to get her to slow down a little.

It wasn’t like you didn’t try, you really did. But even with your countless nagging, you’d still catch Lena staying up late to work at her laptop, answering emails or typing up reports. She always seemed to be working.

Of course this was going to catch up to her. You’d warned her it would. As such, you weren’t surprised when after an exhausting week, Lena had woken up feeling crappy.

Low fever, aches and pains. All consequences of pushing herself to the brink then pushing a little extra. Lena's eyes fluttered open as you came back into the bedroom, her tired gaze revealing the telltale signs of exhaustion. With a soft sigh, she glanced at you, "I think you were right about needing more sleep."

“I don’t want to say I told you so, but…” You trailed off, shaking your head softly as you came to sit on the edge of the bed, allowing yourself to gently cup her face, “This is what happens when we don’t take breaks.”

Lena managed a weak smile, her eyes half-closed. "I know, I know. I just can't help it sometimes." She slowly sat up, looking a bit wobbly.

You smiled, taking the glass of water from the nightstand and prompting her to drink it, “How about we just take it slow today. No work, no plans. Just relax.” You suggested, taking the empty glass she handed back to you and set it back down on the side, “We could watch some of those cheesy movies you pretend to hate?”

Lena nodded, appreciating the concern in your eyes. "Cheesy movies and cuddles sound perfect right now," she admitted with a faint chuckle, slowly making her way to the living room. As she settled onto the sofa, your small little black cat jumped up and settling on her lap, causing Lena to smile down at the animal as she pet him gently, “Hi you.”

Your cat meowed contently back at her and you smiled at the pair of them before leaving to go and grab the large blanket from your linen closet. It didn’t take long to get snuggled up beside her, and before long the two of you were cuddled together, her head resting against you as you watched Titanic.

As the movie played, Lena leaned into you, her eyes growing heavier with each passing scene. The warmth of the blanket enveloped both of you, creating herself a cosy cocoon. It was about halfway through the movie, when you felt Lena stir against you, ducking inside your side as she let out a soft, sleepy sneeze.

You chuckled softly, "Bless you, sleepyhead." Gently stroking her hair, you suggested, "Maybe a short nap will do you a world of good, catch up on some of that sleep you desperately need.”

She nodded, yawning as she nuzzled further up against you. You were helpless but to look down at her, love filling your eyes as she let her head fall into your lap, “Get some rest sweetheart.” You whispered, letting your hand rest on her back, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

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