#ice cream make nose itchy

[largishcat]

apparently not everyone gets that thing where you start sneezing and don’t stop for five years

[thefreakandthehair]

I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.” 

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

[literaila]

can we get one of those scenarios where gojo does go to reader's dorm at 3am to go get sweets?

before you came to jujutsu high, you were a very patient person.

your temper was long, if anything. a stretchy sort of thing that was folded in the hands of people who didn’t deserve it.

it took a lot to get you worked up—some might even say that you were a people pleaser. if you had a certain… distaste for anyone or anything, well that was between you and your brain.

before you came to jujutsu high, that is.

because now it takes less than a knock on the door for your irritation to rise from your chest into your eyes. stress headaches have become a newfound acquaintance.

“what?” you hiss, opening your door to be met with—to no one’s surprise—a giddy grin and a sliver of eyes so bright it makes you want to puke.

so yeah. things have changed.

it wasn’t even one knock this time, though, but at least four different pounds, each one luring you even further into the cloud of homicidal thoughts.

at least no one will blame you in jail.

“is that how you answer your door?” satoru asks, leaning against the jam, so tall it hurts your soul.

“gojo,” you say, sweetening your rough, still-sleeping voice. “unless you’re here to tell me that someone’s dead, i’m going to break your nose.”

you didn’t used to be this violent, you swear. there’s just something about him—

satoru pinches your cheek fondly. “you’re such a joy to be around. even with your bed head.”

“did someone die?”

“yes,” satoru adjusts your shirt for you, kindness a silly thing he likes to wear occasionally. “my stomach. its rotting away.”

“good for you. goodnight.”

and you move to close the door, but satoru has always been faster than you. his foot is there, and you could break it, but you won’t.

god knows why.

“c’mon, sleeping beauty,” he whines, “i want bad ice cream.”

“then go get some.”

“i want company while i eat it.”

“don’t you have other friends or something? it’s..” you turn, blinking in the dark. “1:34 am.”

gojo grins. “snack time,” he says, simply.

you groan, missing when life was simple and no one talked to you unless you were making a mistake. “i’m tired. you woke me up, and i was having a good dream, too.”

“about me?”

“about something i don’t remember because,” you scowl at him, “you woke me up.”

“i didn’t want you to miss out.”

“if you keep smiling at me like that, i’ll—“

you stop, mostly because you don’t know what you’ll do.

“are you trying to sweet talk me? because it’s working.”

“no.”

gojo laughs. “get dressed. unless you want to wear your… care bear’s shirt.”

“go with geto,” you say, trying to shut the door again. it only succeeds in making satoru flinch just briefly.

which is enough to feed the vicious animal in your head.

“he’s just not as cute as you, though.”

you scoff. “stop trying to manipulate me.”

“but it always works so well.”

and is he wrong?

…no. but who can blame you for falling victim to his whims? satoru has spent his entire life being waited on, being given every little thing he could possibly want.

and he seems to want you.

it’s such a unique, bewildering feeling that you have to follow through. you can’t let something like affection go to waste.

the girl you were a year ago would scream for this very moment. she would be at satoru’s door, hugging his leg like a child.

(and if he’s a little bit… okay to look at. well. at least there’s one plus to this arrangement).

“i’ll even wait for you to get dressed,” satoru says like it’s a generous offer. “can’t you hear the ice cream calling?”

and then he leans in, eyes peering into yours over his ridiculous shades.

his hair is a bit messier than usual this late, his mouth a terrifying pink.

some small part of you wants to desperately to lean a little bit closer. to push this even further. so what if you need more convincing? so what if he owes you something?

so what if you can’t say no to him?

it has nothing to do with the itchy feeling in your chest, or the giddy fog in your brain.

(god, satoru makes you feel… something else. different than a human, but nothing more than a prize. he makes you feel like you are something other—like you’ve been the problem this entire time—but in a good way.

satoru sees you as something to behold.

you’re the god of this small thing.

and it’s wonderful. its infuriating and painful, and still you’d rather die than attempt to let it go.)

so what?

“fine,” you almost gasp. “but you’re buying.”

gojo clasps his hands together in satisfaction. “we’ll see,” he sings.

“ten minutes,” you tell him, trying to shut the door.

“five,” he whispers back, so sweetly.

and then satoru flashes his teeth at you, so different from anything else.

your responding nod is just unconscious at this point.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 5: Back Scratches

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Back scratches (🌼)

Summary: Matt needs some comfort after a long work day.

Warnings: Fluff. Established relationship. Slight angst.

Word Count: 901

A/n: Another day, another Fluff Day in Fictober! The angst mentioned above is very minor, and it's just Matt's inability to take comfort.

Read Me On AO3!

The door unlocks to Matt’s heavy footsteps. His dress shoes drag over the floorboards, accompanied by a heavy breath from his lips. He’s finally home. Home with you.

You can tell almost instantly that he must have had a rough day. He texted you earlier, telling you to have dinner without him. He and Foggy spent the whole day working on the opening statement for their next big case, and it ran just a little longer than he expected. You would never hold it against him; he’s doing something good for yet another innocent person. So, you had dinner by yourself, putting away the leftovers for him to heat up once he got home.

Though as soon as Matt steps through the door, dinner is the last thing on his mind. He’s tired, his bones are aching, and all he needs is you. He missed you so terribly Foggy teased him about it all evening. “You’re so whipped, dude,” he’d said. There was no use denying it, anyway. 

His body yearns for you. The scent of you pulls him through the hallway and toward the couch. Your heartbeat is steady, unbothered. It sounds like home.

“Hey,” you greet him softly, looking up from your book. 

There is a deep crease between his brows, his hazel eyes glistening in the dim ceiling light. He clumsily feels around for the edge of the couch until he finally finds it. You know how he gets; his senses may be impossibly heightened, but when he’s tired and desperate and he just needs you, he gets disoriented. His brain can’t catch up with his body fast enough, every thought lulled into a dark gray fog. 

You sit up straighter. “How was work?” 

His lips twitch. “Long,” is all he says. 

“Yeah?”

Matt hums, lowering himself down next to you. 

“Did you get anywhere, at least?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “But I– I don’t wanna talk about work. I just…”

A moment of silent contemplation follows. He’s fighting with himself. Should he take what he wants? Should he ask? Or should he just stay silent?

When it comes to accepting love, Matt struggles. He gives everything to those he cares about, and he would risk anything for you, but he doesn’t know how to ask for any of it back. He doesn’t want to.

What if it’s too much? What if what he wants comes off as too overbearing? And what if he doesn’t deserve the kind of love you are so eager to give him? Those thoughts have always been there, hiding, but you see right through him. 

You open your arms. “C’mere,” you murmur.

Matt ruffles his hair, listening for the honesty in your heartbeat before he slowly, slowly, sinks into you. He’s almost careful—no, he’s hesitant as he rests his head on your chest, right above your heart. 

“Stop overthinking.” You wrap your arms around him. “It’s okay. Just… let me hold you, baby.”

A strangled grunt escapes him. Baby. He loves it when you call him that.

Your nails run down his back, over his dress shirt. He’s not itchy, not at all, but it feels good when you do it. His muscles melt like ice cream under your very touch. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t understand why the drag of your fingernails works like a magic potion of tranquility to his senses, or why when he lays like this, the rhythmic beating of your heart is all he suddenly seems about to hear—none of that matters because you already consume his every waking thought. 

One of your hands tugs the shirt out of his pants, and then it slips underneath. His skin is hot. You trace every little mole along the path up his spine, every last crack, scar, and imperfection that makes him who he is. He is so beautiful. 

Matt melts a little more, nuzzling his nose between your breasts. If he could, he would let you swallow him. He would let you consume him and live inside you until the end of his days. 

Your chest rumbles with a soft chuckle. “Comfortable?” you ask.

He gives a satisfied hum. 

Your fingernails start moving again, from his shoulders to his lower back. You paint galaxies on his milky skin. Seconds turn into minutes, yet they feel like hours as you lie there on the couch. 

Maybe one of these days, he will finally accept that he deserves to be taken care of. 

Maybe one of these days he will learn to take what he needs without a sliver of hesitation, without a sliver of doubt that he even deserves it. 

Maybe one of these days he will let you love him the way he loves you, unconditionally and with your whole heart. 

In an ideal world, Matt would have never gotten hurt. He would have never had to learn how to be alone. He would never have had to experience the pain of loss at such a young age. In an ideal world, he would have been okay from the start.

You can’t fix what’s already broken, but you can take care of him now, make him feel loved now, even if it takes some time to teach him that he does deserve it—and as he falls asleep in your arms with a breathy, “I love you,” you vow to do so until death do you part. 

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[the-kr8tor]

This cute idea just spawned into my head but imagine the girls asking reader and hobie about their youth 🥹 like “how did you two meet?” And when they complain about having too much homework they say “I bet you didn’t do your homework when you were younger” to Hobie

Thank you for the adorable request!! 🫶

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Mom! Reader, Dad! Hobie, Twin AU, Billie and Ramona AU, cw food mentions, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You feel a gentle tug on your apron whilst you make dinner, the savory smell of spaghetti and meatballs wafting around you, covering you with a thin smoke that you had to fan away to get a good look at the disheveled curls below you.

“Mummy?” she tugs again and you fan the smoke away from her face. You should really turn on the exhaust.

Quickly pressing the on button, the fans roar to life making your daughter call you louder above the noise. You crouch down to her height, now eyelevel, you see Billie with her face scrunched up, pouting and with a crumpled paper clutched in her tiny hand.

“What happened to your hair?” You chuckle, trying to get it away from her pretty face with your palms. “Was your head all itchy?”

She stomps on her tiny foot, frustrated. “I can't do my homework!” Whining, Billie sniffs, clearly upset. You rub her arms lovingly, trying to calm her down. “And Mona fell asleep and daddy locked his door!”

The thought of Mona taking a nap before dinner has you internally groaning, knowing that you have to wake her up which is a job and a half for both you and Hobie. She clearly takes after her dad in that department.

“And I'm your third choice?” You feign hurt, joking to lighten her mood. It doesn't work when her frown deepens, brows knitted together. She takes after you in this department. “Okay I'm sorry, baby, what do you need?”

She raises her homework to your face, getting a facefull of her maths problems. Leaning away, you skim over the numbers: five plus seven, ten plus twenty and so on.

“I need help, mummy.” Her tiny broken voice sends your instincts into a frenzy, but you remain calm with your hands rubbing soft circles around her shoulder blades just like you always did when she was just a baby.

“And mummy will help you, okay? Can you grab your pencils for me? Then we can sit down and finish it.” You lift her chin up, pressing a sweet kiss on her chubby cheek. “And maybe I'll give you some ice cream for a job well done.” You whisper it to her like a secret to make your daughter giggle.

Truthfully, you were already going to give her some after dinner, if Hobie saw the entire thing he would've patted your back.

“Okie dokie.” Billie changes moods quickly, smiling and skipping towards the bedroom. She leaves the door wide open, giving you the opportunity to watch Billie hastily pick up her supplies from the messy pile on the foot of her bed.

You shut off the stove and the exhaust whilst peeking at the girls' bedroom. Spotting Ramona slowly sitting up, waking up from the ruckus that her sister was making. Yawning, her eyes droopy from sleep, she scowls at her sister but when she sees you peeking from the open doorway, she smiles, giving you her signature toothy grin.

Copying her smile, you scrunch up your nose and narrow your eyes, Mona giggles as Billie finally makes her way towards the kitchen table with her arms full of school supplies that are definitely not needed for a maths homework.

Billie huffs like she just climbed a mountain. She sits down on the dining chair with little effort, when just last year she still needed yours and Hobie’s help to get up on the chair.

“Mum!” She calls, legs swinging and tapping her pencil on the table.

“Coming, baby.” You wipe your hands on your apron. Sitting down next to her, you feel Mona lay her head on your arm wordlessly, sleep still clinging to her lashes.

Lifting her up, you place her on your lap. She embraces you, head placed on your chest.

“Sleepy?”

“Mm-hmm, homework got me tired.” her words are muffled by your shirt.

If only Hobie can see you hogging all the attention from his girls, he'd probably be complaining jokingly, saying that his girls are playing favourites.

You help Billie with her homework and with every question answered her pout becomes deeper. She's so done with it already even though she still has an entire page left.

Mona has even started to help her sister, giving her extra fingers using her own hands so Billie can count higher using both her and Mona's fingers.

Nine questions left, Billie's on the brink of tears.

“‘m hungry” she whines, flicking eraser shavings off the paper.

“I know, cheese, just one more and we can have dinner then we can continue right after.”

“I bet you didn't have to do homework back then!” Billie throws a crumpled piece of paper across the table. Mona frowns, upset, looking at you for answers.

Hobie senses his girls' distress, he can't ignore it any longer while he was working on a new web fluid. With measured steps, he unlocks the door with a click. Making his way towards the kitchen, his heart melts at the sight, if only the twins were actually smiling it would've been better. Webbing up Billie's homework, he reads it out loud while closing the distance.

“‘If Charlie had ten cookies and his dad gives him eight more, how many cookies does he have?’” he scoffs, plopping himself next to Billie and across from you. “Diabetes, Charlie has diabetes.” placing the paper down, he watches the girls grin from ear to ear.

His girls giggles, music to his ears.

“Dad!” Billie slaps her dad on his arm, Hobie feigns hurt, groaning in (fake) pain. They laugh louder, Billie's frustration forgotten.

You smile at him, practically giving him heart eyes. He winks, laying his foot on top of your knee that's under the table. His way of saying ‘thank you’ and ‘you did a good job.’ So to show your appreciation, you wink back and he acts like Cupid's bow hit him right on his chest.

Mona laughs while Billie acts disgusted by the gooey scene in front of her.

Hobie sits up, or as properly as Hobie can. He places his elbow casually on the table, chin placed on his palm. He shakes his head, “not true at all, froggy, mum and I did a lot of homework back then.”

“You mean fifty years ago?” Mona jokes, followed by loud laughter from her and Billie.

“Rude!” You squeeze her in your arms, swaying her from side to side. “We raised rude children, Hobs.”

“This is what we get for letting uncle James babysit you eh?” Hobie pokes Billie on her side, earning a yelp from the younger twin. “You know who didn't do his homework? Uncle James, and look where he is now.”

“He’s living in a castle, dad!” Billie exclaims, excited to hear a story from before they were born.

“It's his dad's, scrunkly,” he pats her head before sloshing her head from side to side. She giggles again, holding his hand that's on top of her head. “not uncle James'” stopping his attack, he continues. “Have I told you that your mum and I’s first date was a study date?”

“No!” Mona and Billie shout excitedly.

You quirk a brow but you let him tell the story even though you know he might be telling it a bit differently than you remember.

“Yep, you see mum was havin’ a hard time with biology—”

“What's biology?” Mona asks.

“Study of plants, animals and humans.” Hobie says without elaborating or they'll be sitting there for hours.

Mona looks up at you from your lap, smaller hand tapping your clavicle. “Did you fall in love with dad during homework time?”

“Yes, he impressed me with his biology prowess.”

“Taught her anatomy—” You kick Hobie under the table before he could finish his sentence. He silently groans, staring softly at you.“—we held hands under the table.” Both girls listen intently while you smile at the memory. “I'd squeeze her hand every time she got an answer right.”

“Woah! You still do that!” Billie moves her head from Hobie and to you. Smiling delightfully at her parents.

“Yeah, we do. But with fewer biology questions.” Hobie taps the paper, “what's ten plus eight?”

“Eighteen,” Billie answers quickly and you look at her surprised. Hobie smirks triumphantly. “How'd you two meet?” she asks curiously, elbows on the table, and eyes sparkling.

Her twin does the same, her knees digging into your thighs. But you don't mind as you make googly eyes at Hobie.

“Tell you what, cheese, finish this and we'll tell you.” Hobie throws you another wink, sending you back in time when he used to pick you up from class.

You knead at his leg, tapping in morse code a simple ‘I love you.’ He appreciates it with a message of his own. Tapping Billie's eraser on the table, he sends a message through it. ‘Love you more, study anatomy later?’

Tapping a quick ‘yes’ he hides his smile when he pretends to look over Billie's homework.

[scrompsmilanodiaries]

31 flavours

Of course @happylittleshrub Here you go :D Word count:1K

It was a hot sweltering day on New Xandar, You must've haven't checked in with the weather man as the planet was sweltering in a heat wave. You hovered a portable fan all over your face to rid the sweat, but it only blew more hot air. Meanwhile rocket was scratching his head profusely, The heat was getting under his fur, making his skin hot and itchy under.

"Goddamn it !! I will literally blow up these sun's if i have too !!" He growled.

"And the planet would die" You reasoned even in a distressed state.

"Flark off..." He grumbled.

"Maybe we can just go out for a little bit, The wind looks like it picked up ??" You slowly rose from the chair, Your shirt sticking uncomfortably on your back.

He sighed. "Might as well, let's go humie"

As you left the ship, you were immediately blasted by brief heat, But sweet relief came in via a cool breeze.

"Now this is more like it huh pal ??" Rocket looked up at you as he climbed onto your shoulders.

"D'ast straight" You nodded as you enjoyed the breeze.

You enjoyed the breeze as you walked around, and you and Rocket watched as the Xandarians made the most of the heatwave by cooling down in various ways. Some kids were playing in the water park nearby. Some people were laying down nearby hoping to get a tan.

"I don't even understand why people want a tan, even back on terra" You shook your head.

"Whatcha mean ??" He quizzed you.

"Cause back on Terra, if you stayed out in the sun for too long you end up getting sick later in life" It was hard to explain, but this was the best way to put it for someone who hasn't been to earth.

"Yeah, fair... Don't you go sick on me humie" He flashed the familiar smirk as he noogied your head.

"Hey watch it !!" You chuckled.

Soon, a delicious smell picked up in rocket's nose... It was... so sweet. "hey, come on" He jumped off your shoulders and bolted on all fours to pick up the smell more strongly.

"Hey wait up !!" You rushed through the crowd to try and catch up to him, How was he so damn fast !!

You managed to find him at a nearby marketplace where people were selling all sorts of food, You found him blatantly staring into a window. "What is it..." You turned and your eyes went wide as saucers, the smell that rocket was picking up was ice cream !! But not just any ice cream, Yara root ice cream !! As if they were freshly ripe and ready to go.

"Guess we found a way to cool off." You placed your hands on your hips as you looked at all the flavours. They had the usual Terran flavours too, vanilla, chocolate, and raspberry. Even a few delicate flavours as well. Kree starfruit twist, Of course Yara fruit ripple and sweet zarg nuts.

"Ohohoho now we're talking" Rocket tried to leap for the door handle, which then you opened. "I could've opened it" He scoffed playfully.

"Yeah, sure" You chuckled as you entered the shop to scoop out the flavours, pun intended.

Like anything, it was hard to choose what sort of ice cream you wanted, one scoop, two or three ?? A sundae or a shake ?? Gahh !!

But rocket seemed to know what he wanted already, So without hesitation, he jumped back on your shoulders so he could be able to talk to the clerk.

"Yes hi, Could I be able to get chocolate dirt with some... gummy worms" He asked.

"Certainly, and for you ??" He soon asked you.

"Ummm... I'll get the triple scoop of Blue zazzberry, Yara fruit and vanilla" You nodded.

Rocket leaned over and paid for the two treats. "I could pay for my own" You looked at him.

"Yeah sure" He chuckled, But he wanted to, it was his shout. He may come off as the hardened bounty hunter, but you knew this softie inside and out, hence why he was your best friend.

"Order for Y/n and rocket !!" They called out as they placed the desserts on the counter.

"Thank you" You said as you grabbed them and soon headed outside to a shaded table.

"Oh, this is gonna be so flarkin' good !!" Rocket rubbed his hands together as he grabbed the spoon and began to eat, He was in heaven as the flavours hit his tongue.

Yours as well. "How is this better than the ice cream we have !!"

"Must be the Kantor milk, I ain't complainin'" He smiled as he took another bite.

There was nothing else on this planet that could've been better than this, You, your best friend, and ice cream.

"Let's make a pact to never tell Drax this" He snickered.

"Agreed, He'd eat the whole place"

It was fun while it lasted, with one last bite, your ice creams were gone, it was bittersweet... Rocket let out a burp as did you. "So good." He patted his stomach.

"This was pretty good, Might be the best damn ice cream I've had"

"You reckon ??" He looked at you.

"Absolutely"

You both shared fond smiles towards each other as you looked out into the crowds, watching them all go by. This was just easily the best day.

You felt your communicator go off in your pocket, Pulling it out and reading a text.

"The air conditioning on the ship has finally been fixed, Some of the parts were missing hence why it wasn't working" You smirked at Rocket.

"Hmm, Now who could've done that ??" He rubbed his neck sheepishly as he looked around.

"Come on, let's head back" You chuckled as you helped him up.

Maybe it wasn't bad this heat wave, you wouldn't mind if it lasted a little longer. If it was an excuse for more ice cream.

A/N: Now i want one.

Taglist: @callofdudes @rogertaylorswift @writings-of-a-demigod

[wroteclassicaly]

Just some comfort…

Warnings: Language, comfort, mentioning anxiety, mentions the menstrual cycle and pain, tooth rotting fluff.

A/N: Just a little something, because I’m on mine and I miss him… badly.

~*~

The anxiety is rippling across your stomach, winding around that ghastly heat that scratches across your navel and remains traveling. You’ve tried every position, drank your second glass of iced water, but nothing is helping. You feel as if you could throw up, mouth watering, whilst simultaneously craving for one specific thing… Your eyes follow the heavy wooden door that’s cracked open, illuminated by an autumn thunderstorm. Giving one more tapping of itchy fingertips to your borrowed quilt, you toss the blanket and sheet combo off, your baggy sleep shirt hanging off of you as you make your way down the hallway and outside of the master bedroom door.

It’s quiet throughout his new home - which isn’t anything fancy. A simple old two story cottage you’ve been helping him restore with Nadine’s help. However, it’s his own. And you have your own room here. It’s where you are a lot, still giving him space to make his pathway, but never straying too far.

You two don’t speak on it - there’s more time for that later. Doesn’t mean you aren’t stopping the wishes, the cravings. On nights like tonight, you don’t want your own bed. Still fogged out from the pain inside your exhausted body, you don’t knock, instead pushing the door open enough that it has that whistling sound effect. Before you can raise your hands in surrender, he’s got his gun from beneath his pillow, safety off, and has it perfectly aimed in your direction.

You’re immediately regretful, tears blurring your vision due to emotions. He’s still worried for his own safety, tenfold after his prison time and all of the surgeries needed to restore his eyesight. You hear him sigh as you let out a soft apology. The safety is restored and his gun is placed on his nightstand. His hair is a mess, grown out and shaggy, his chain glittering under the dampening, shrouded moon.

Rain cascades across his window, illuminating him like a portrait of delicate carving. He gives a soft sigh - equal parts irritated and relieved. You look wonderful, just in your shirt, bare feet on his hardwood, in his home. He scoots over and peels back his blankets, overwhelmingly grateful that you scared the shit out of him. You gravitate towards him, a soft smile pressing your face as you knee your way onto the California King.

“You ain’t sleepin’ on my side,” he says.

“Don’t care what side I get, just wanna sleep here.”

You’re already shifting down into the mess of olive greens, swirled in blue tones, and cream sheets, turning onto your side. The anxiety instinctually dissipates. You’re surrounded by the soft smell of the rain, mixed together with the rustic colored leaves that drape across the roof, soaked in earth and season - his window open slightly. His pillows, his bedding, soft detergent, a grainy cinnamon and cedarwood engulfing you from his body wash and shampoo. You aren’t expecting it when he does, a beat silent, his hovering presence behind you, but he then pulls you back into his chest, one defined bicep tossing across your waist.

Warm. Safe. Home.

His voice speaks in a sleep bitten rasp, as if someone has just fed him honey soaked tea. “You want my heatin’ pad?”

You’re shaking your head, already forgetting the agony that is briefly settling in your uterus. You reach for one of his massive palms, splaying it out across your belly, pressing it down. “Just this.”

“Hey…?” It’s a timid trail off, one that catches your attentions before you can drop into sleep.

You tilt your head back and his nose is bumping into yours, a nudging that plants him directly into the apple of your cheek. You don’t have to reach, fingers resting on you tightening together, lips meeting in a kiss so featherlight that it sends a tickling electricity into your toes. You give, he gives, sending a few more chaste pecks, nuzzling with pressed foreheads, and he’s sliding into place behind you, face burrowing into your neck, boxer-briefs heavy on him. No more words are exchanged. You’re out in two minutes, Gator following shortly after, gun forgotten on the table.

Safe… Loved…

[richeeduvie]

Okay okay super random. I was at the zoo this weekend and when I say I saw a man that looked exactly like Roman… button up shirt and hand running through his hair and all. I was flabbergasted. But it made me think about baby jr, baby, and Roman all together at the zoo <3 baby jr and Roman would get matching face paint

I can't stress enough how much Baby loves to see Roman as a father. She loves him just as much as Roman loves her and she loves him a little more, finds him even more beautiful when she watches him being a daddy.

Roman and Baby Jr get lions painted on her the sides of their face. They're big cats.

"Big kitty!"

Roman can't stop staring at her just being a beautiful, happy little girl. But Baby and him never let go of her hand. He almost thought of being one of those stupid-fuck, embarrassing parents and put Baby Jr on a leash cause a zoo is just...filled with people and their musk and they do not know how to walk. It's like the normals never learned how to put one foot in front of the other or how to leave them alone.

He puts his fingers under his nose, thumb on his mouth - tracing.

"Do you smell that? Is that the people of this city?"

"It's the smell of the zoo, Rome."

He coughs, Baby Jr giggles.

Roman, Baby Jr, Baby - they make their way around the zoo to look at big animals behind glass. He kinda just blinks at them and makes odd, almost sexual comments. As Roman does, but it manages to be mostly PG? Almost, if Baby Jr's too focused on the animals, the words turn over to an R-rating.

"That bear is itchy. We should go in there and scratch his back."

"You're like way too kind and also a genius but I don't think bronx-caged Yogi would be grateful for your generosity."

He makes a series of faces that make his wife and daughter laugh when he tries dippin dots. Baby feeds him spoonfulls before kissing him under an umbrella.

"Flavored fish eggs were supposed to be the future of ice cream?"

"They're good, no?"

"Eh."

But Roman takes every bite Baby gives him. People stare in passing when he begins to bite her shoulder during their little break from walking, but to the little girl in their lap, it's just Mommy and Daddy being Mommy and Daddy at the zoo.

[breadcheekstete]

More fat Tae please. Maybe one where he is really big and lazy?

hello hello (ôㅈô)/” you know how much i like chubby tæ so it was a pleasure to write it. i made him kinda slobby and it might be messy but i hope you like it 🖤 (i tried to make him as big as i am comfortable with, please understand)

[CW / Slob behaviour]

th has been watching the news go on for what feels like an eternity. he made the bad decision of leaving the remote on the coffee table when he turned on a movie that finished too long ago.

he could get up and change the channel? yeah. but he actually can't.

adding a whole 2l of weight gain shake, two and half gallons of ice cream to his already ample frame is his favourite activity and, honestly? he's already thinking of dinner.

you see, th is a big guy. he does not just have a gut and some spare kilos rounding his edges. and as someone that weighs 136kg, he's what anyone would call a slob.

a big belly sitting and spilling down his lap and between his thick thighs, spread open to give it some room. his arms hug the last ice cream tub, too tired to even prevent it from spilling in his already stained t-shirt. at this point he just wears it to hold his moobs in like a crop top, or even a bra, now resting pliant on the shelf that is his overstuffed belly.

he scratches at his double chin, itchi from the ice cream spilled and licks his finger clean, hiccuping a burp.

his spoon finally makes it to the bottom of the ice cream and he discards it, throwing it not so carefully to the floor. he hums, contently rubbing at the sides of his belly and pressing on the few pockets of gas.

not that he drank soda in the past hours but he's just so gassy all the time. he pats his underbelly, caressing the flabby area and dipping his finger into his belly button, expecting a burp to come out but is a loud fart what comes out instead. he even feels it rumble on his seat.

it felt really good to let out, but is not enough to ease the discomfort for dinner so he rubs circles on the expanse of his belly, taking turns with each arm so he doesn't get tired. in the end, is the hand resting on top of his belly that finds the wet belch he was looking for and he leans back on the armchair, relieved to say the least. 

the air is a bit heavy when sj comes back from work. th doesn't even hear him come in as he let out another resounding belch with his eyes closed in pure bliss.

"only you would eat ice cream as an appetizer," the older says.

th whines, belly gurgling under his touch. "if i could order something to eat, i wouldn't start from the dessert."

sj sits on the armrest, slapping his belly that barely wobbles at the motion but causes th to burp. "last time i let you order when i was still at work i found you being fed by the poor delivery guy."

th takes a fist to his chest and belches deeply, that felt so good to let out. "i wouldn't let him do it if he wasn't yøongi hyung. he knows our code."

"he knows it for emergencies!"

"it was an emergency, i couldn't get up."

sj stands right in front of him and brushes th's chin gently, daring. "can't even get up for the food you ordered yourself?"

"i'm sorry hyung, i was too full.." past full like he is right know, sj would dare to say. he's got other plans, though.

"if you can stand up by yourself and sit on the couch, i'll feed you."

"pasta with lots of tomato sauce sprinkled with weight gain powder and a 2l bottle of cola?" he asks with puppy eyes, and sj nods. it makes him so fond how under all this fat he's still the bright soul he knows.

th makes an attempt, arms quivering and belly annoyingly hard to even let him bend forward. he tries again, grunting and rocking himself back and forth to regain some strength, and then…

"damn it, tæhyung. that's gross," sj complains at the strong smell coming from the younger's agonizingly long fart he just ripped.

"you said, huff ." th stops to fan his nose. "you said i had to stand u-UuuURp, and i needed a little impulse."

"little ? the neighbors could sue us for that."

th stumbles a little as he balances himself and waddles to the couch, letting himself fall onto it and he shuts a loud cracking sound with another burst of air. "come on," he demands, patting the side of his belly. "it's dinner time."

[james-sunshine-potter]

Specific character headcannons pt. 1

•James Potter

> He’s vegetarian. He grew up that way due to the culture in his home. He grew up in a Hindu/ Indian household, and his parents didn’t cook or buy meat so he never ate it. By the time they joined Hogwarts, he got so grossed out by it he never even tried.

> He’s Indian, Vietnamese and Mexican. Indian and Vietnamese from his mothers side and Mexican from his father.

> He’s a big fan of Fleetwood Mac. Mary introduced to them, and it was best thing to happen to James’ music taste.

> He was a really fast runner. Like super fast. Which was really convenient for missions. He could out run any death eater and he was a nightmare chasing them. Him and Marlene would race and James always won. (Like 21 years of knowing each, Marlene never won a single race).

> He got along super easy with old people. Old people love James. They’d talk to him on the street, in shops, on the bus etc. (His friends suspect it’s the fact he smiles at the strangers he makes eye contact with on the street, plus how can you not like James’ smile?).

> He can speak multiple languages. Urdu, Hindi, Spanish, Portuguese (which he learnt for fun really) and English. English was the last one he learnt, and his weakest. But he still speaks it great.

> He gets nosebleeds very often. And they are messy. He’s always got a pack of tissues on him. He’s fainted more than once because of them.

> He loses his glasses constantly. He always finds them. He’s never broke a pair though.

> He’s allergic to a lot of ingredients which go into the main healing and pain potions. Unfortunately for him, they learnt that the hard way.

> Goes by they/he pronouns.

> He hates pineapple flavoured anything. Juice, sweets, the fruit. Even the artificial smell. Can’t stand it.

> He hates the feeling of the school jumpers. The uniform in general. The school tie is always too tight when done up properly and the jumper is so itchy he can’t think whilst wearing it. He never wears the formal shoes he’s mean to because he doesn’t like the nose they make whilst walking. He gets lots of detentions for not following the dress code.

> He walks in wonky lies. He physically can’t walk in straight lines. Sirius always has to yank him out the way of other people or they will walk into people. (Thankfully he isn’t like this on a broom…).

> He doesn’t know his lefts or rights.

> He either has all the energy in the world or none at all. He’s an all or nothing kind of guy.

> He’d watch the same five shows. He barely ever watched anything new.

> They don’t know how to whistle. Or click for that matter.

> They physically can’t sit still. There is always some part of them which is moving. They bob their knee, drum their fingers etc. People ask them to stop constantly, but even with all the effort they can must, he never does.

> He counts on their fingers. They add on their fingers etc. They can’t do it in their head.

> AuADHD.

> A big ice cream person. Huge. Their favourite is Mango.

> He’s very hairy. Hairy arms, legs. Has to shave routinely every three days. He doesn’t care at all for body hair though.

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

being sick is the worst. your nose canal is shut. you're leaking fluid from every orifice in your face. you should blow your nose but that will make the pressure on your sinuses worse. also your whole face feels raw from the tissues. you can now only exist comfortably hovering over a pot of steaming salt water, but also all your joints hurt so there is no way to be in this position painlessly. just kidding, there is no way to be in any position painlessly. your throat hurts. maybe you should have some ice cream to - never mind you are freezing to death. maybe you should have some tea to - never mind you're sweating through three layers of clothing. your feet are cold. your eyelids are swelling shut. your head weighs a ton. you should take a walk outside. nevermind you need to lie down right now. sneezing hurts when you're lying on your back. you're tired. you're bored. your teeth feel itchy? there are four days left on all the books you took out from the library for university. are you going to be sick? inconclusive. you are not thirsty. you have to pee. it is really important that you be at work tomorrow. the weather is lovely. bright light hurts your eyes. you were planning on finishing that assignment this week. you go back to bed.

[pikminpediaart]

Buffet Times (5/6)

After several minutes, Charlie let go of Big Guy’s belly, allowing him to move again. “There! An extra treat for you! It should help you fully eat what you need!” Charlie patted Big Guy’s belly. “But, for someone as fat as you, it shouldn’t be a problem anyway!”   “Stop doing that!” Big Guy snarled, backing up. “Big Guy didn’t even eats anything that time! That’s not fair!”   “You’re free to leave any time, you know,” Charlie said, gesturing toward the exit. “All you gotta do is stomach twelve pounds of food and you can leave. Twenty-four if you want to be Sarge again, and Thirty-six if you want your full identity back. These massages aren’t free, Big Guy. Next one will be your free will.”   “My… what?” Big Guy asked, wanting to show how angry he was, but his fear plastered his eyes open.   “Free will. Y’know, the thing that lets you decide for yourself. Sure, you can go get yourself a drink when you want to, but if someone tells you to do something, you do it. You don’t even question it. Can’t stop yourself from questioning it. You just do it.” Charlie scratched his muzzle. “Honestly, fur is a bit itchy, so I wouldn’t mind if you… y’know, ate that thirty-six pounds of food.”   “Then stop giving Big Guy a massage everytime me gets bloated!” Big Guy whined. “Me wants to go home!”   Charlie lifted his now-fur-covered hands with a delighted smile. “Grand Surprises! Though I will ask you this time, since free will is kinda a big deal, y’know?”   “Then don’t take it!” Big Guy barked.   “A deal is a deal I’m afraid. You agreed to the Fat Man’s Eating Challenge. Now you gotta finish it. Remember, just twelve pounds of food in that gut and you’re good as out the door!”   Big Guy tried to snarl, but he noticed his face didn’t seem to express itself. He stormed away, feeling his belly jiggle every few seconds as he did. Each step was laborious as he felt a bounce come from his midriff, jowls, thighs, and pecs. When he made it to the buffet counter for meats, he could see his reflection on the counter’s smooth, metal surface. Big Guy jumped back, letting out a yelp as he did so… Where were his eyes? Where was his nose? All he saw was a gray oval with a smoothed out bump to show where his snout was. He still had a mouth, sure, but everything else was… gone.   “Where is Big Guy face?!” He bellowed, slapping his hands to the front of his head. He tried to feel for his eyeballs, but he only felt divots. It was at that moment that a thought occurred to him. Racing back to the entrance, Big Guy scanned the area for the mannequin. It was such a minor detail that he’d nearly forgotten…. Horror-struck, he found the mannequin was gone. Big Guy took a few steps forward, only to have a set of hands press against his belly, freezing him in place. Through several minutes of groping, prodding, jostling, and squishing, Big Guy was greeted with the same text as before, “0.00 lbs.”   “Big Guy know that!” Big Guy snapped, spinning on his foot. He had to get out of here now… at any cost. This meant he needed to eat. Rushing back to the buffet, Big Guy scanned the many foods, looking for the items that he thought would be the heaviest. He knew that protein would fill him up quickly, and fruits and vegetables would do the same. He needed something that was easy to eat and came in large quantities. He needed-   Big Guy stopped in front of the dessert area. He had been so panicked about wanting to escape, he almost forgot this area existed. Placing a hand on his belly, he felt it growl. He licked his lips. This was perfect. Desserts. He wanted to try all the desserts so badly. He filled up plate after plate with copious amounts of cakes, donuts, pies, candies, brownies, cookies. After filling up several plates, he found himself standing in front of an item he knew would be his salvation. The Soft-serve Ice Cream Machine. The cream was usually very dense, making a single bowl anywhere up to a pound… depending on how high it could be stacked.   Looking at his plates of desserts back at his table, Big Guy gulped. He needed a large container for this ice cream. Scanning the dessert bar, Big Guy saw a serving dish of pudding. Though mostly untouched, Big Guy figured this could help. Pudding was also dense, so all he needed to do was combine the two and eat the entire tray! Yeah! Perfect!   Big Guy grasped the serving tray’s handles and lifted it up. He was surprised at how hefty it felt, but that only made his smile widen. Shoving the tray underneath the machine’s spout, Big Guy pulled the chocolate handle...Nothing came out.   “Wha-what?” Big Guy pulled the vanilla handle. Nothing came out.   “No! No, no no no!” Big Guy yelled, slamming a fist against the metal structure. “Charlie! Ice Cream machine is broken!”   There was no reply.   Feeling a sense of dread, Big Guy hoisted the dish of pudding up and hustled back to his table where he sat back down to stare at his desserts.   He whined. With his stomach growling so much, he knew he could eat a lot… but was it enough? Did he have enough space to finish?   Shaking his head, Big Guy immediately began shoveling food into his mouth, but as he did, his haste disappeared. The decadence of this food was… divine. Normally he didn’t like buffet desserts, but these desserts were impossible to ignore. The fruit tarts, the black forest cake, the rhubarb pie… all of it was delicious.   He continued scarfing down food. He felt his belly press into the table, so he backed up a bit. He had to reach over his belly, but he managed to grab ahold of each plate then rest it atop his belly as he ate.   Delicious. Decadent. Wonderful. Silky. Smooth. Sweet. Big Guy had just about finished off his last plate of food… and then it hit him. Knowing what was at stake now, though, his gut began to twist. He held a hand to his mouth to keep his food in, but it was becoming blatantly obvious… and uncomfortable that he was beginning to feel full.   “Urk….. No! Big Guy didn’t even… get to the pudding!” Taking a deep breath, Big Guy gripped the sides of his chair and hoisted himself up. His belly felt impossibly taut now, almost ready to burst if someone were to poke it with a pin. He hobbled his way over to the entrance but was stopped by Charlie at the front desk.   “You okay, Big Guy?” Charlie asked, gently pressing into Big Guy’s belly.   “How… much… food… urk… did Big Guy eat?” Big Guy asked.   “Well, we could find out!” Charlie said, gesturing toward the entrance. “Stand on that there welcome mat and you’ll get your answer! Though, be warned, if you go any step beyond that, you won’t be able to come back in until tomorrow!”   “Heck no!” Big Guy retorted, hobbling himself forward. He stood on the mat and, as expected, felt the hands begin to rub and prod his belly. Unlike the last two times, when his belly was supposedly empty, this time he was full to bursting. Trying to hold in all the food was more difficult with each successive prod and poke. He had to cover his mouth a few times… but the prodding finally finished. The digital sign glowed. The text read, “26.54 lbs.”.   “Wow, you’re quite a glutton, Big Guy!” Charlie said with wide eyes. “You’re only a coincidental-pudding-tray away from thirty-six!” Charlie walked up to Big Guy and gestured back into the buffet. “Whatcha say, big guy? Wanna get back your full identity? I could give you a massage to help get rid of that pesky, filling food!”   (Part 5 of 6)   Artwork/Story/Characters (C) Pikminpedia

[edgessunflower]

Personal nurse

Pairing: Thea Hail x Fem reader

Description: You're a nursing student and take care of your sick girlfriend Thea

You were grabbing lunch when Thea texted you with the words "I don't feel good can you please come over?" as soon as you grab your lunch you go to the store grabbing medicine, cough drops, ice cream, soup, crackers, tissues, pepto, and tums before going to her home. After walking in you find her upstairs in bed with a nasal tone to her voice, her eyes watery, and her nose bright red as she wiped her nose with the last tissue from her box glad that you bought three boxes instead of just one as you place your hand on her forehead feeling just how hot she was immediately placing a cool rag on her head and an ice pack wrapped in a hand towel on the back of her neck taking her temperature to see that it was a 103.7 giving her a dose of the DayQuil before having her eat on soup and crackers since it would be easy on her stomach getting half of it down before putting it in the microwave keeping the ice pack cold and the rag on her head wet to help keep her body temperature down so it didn't skyrocket a long with the fever also giving her an allergy nasal spray from the local drug store knowing that it would help keep her head clear so that it wouldn't make her already compromised state worse warming the soup up again a few hours later which she finished along with small pieces of bread after two crackers making sure she always drinks water from the moment you found her to keep her hydrated giving her the NightQuil after the alarm on your phone went off letting you know it had been six hours since the dayquil was given. You watched her as she slowly fell asleep being sure to keep her head positioned up so that none of the fluid in her head would drain to her throat or ears rewetting and draining the rag out and taking the ice pack out of the freezer and wrapped in the hand towel gently placing it against the back of her neck one last time before you went to sleep waking up to find her still asleep waking her up to give her more medicine and eat noticing that she looked a bit better than before checking her temperature seeing that it was now 100.9 slowly keeping the same pattern of taking care of her as the rest of the day went on changing her bedsheets while she showered picking out loose clothes for her to wear as she dried off helping her dress and slowly brushing her hair out putting Netflix on for her before going downstairs and coming back up with a bowel of ice cream to help her itchy throat which it did as she slowly swallowed and held it in her mouth until there was a small amount left keeping the rag on her forehead but not needing the ice pack since her temperature wasn't as high as it was before bringing her homemade pea soup which she thoroughly enjoyed before falling asleep for an hour watching tv again before taking medicine and falling back asleep being wrapped in your arms waking up to find yourself alone in her bed finding her humming downstairs making waffles putting fruits over top enjoying breakfast together before checking her temperature smiling big when it was 97.2 cuddling on the couch "Thank you baby for being my nurse" you laugh as she koala's herself around you "I'll always be your personal nurse whenever".

[rhtakeuchi]

The Respectably Sized Other C

It finally happened.

Since I have RA and a bunch of other autoimmune issues, I have been ridiculously careful about Covid-19 protocols. I haven’t traveled anywhere other than local and mostly outdoor places. Like most Japanese folks, I mask a good majority of the time, even outdoors — unless I don’t see anyone else on our farm road. That’s when I get to treat myself to true public masklessness, though is it really public when no public is around?

Back during the worst of it, my department was super supportive of me and even let me stay online last year longer than anyone else. I had a lot of support when I returned to face to face as well. This year was also going quite well.

I never really imagined school would be the safe place and home would be where I’d be infected, but here we are.

I have Covid-19.

My husband hasn’t tried to shirk his responsibility concerning this. We knew he had a cold. Due to my nagging, he did an antigen test on Wednesday and was negative. After that, he didn’t want to waste the few somewhat expensive tests we had on a mild cold with a cough. I was still a little irked at his carelessness because a cold still really sucks for folks with autoimmune issues, but as a supportive spouse, I wasn’t going to stop him from doing his shows, and it was only a cold.

I was still paranoid. I had a presentation on Saturday, and the last thing I wanted was a cold or anything else. I neither wanted to cancel on the extremely kind organizers, nor did I want to go and spread something. I was having an RA flare with what I will now consider a mild fever, but I wasn’t feeling sick. Fatigue, joint pain, and slight fever are part of my flares, and I had been flaring the whole month. I was starting to have itchy eyes and a runny nose, but my fall allergies had been acting up on and off. None of this seemed so serious.

I took an antigen test to be sure. If it turned out positive, I would absolutely have notified the organizers. However, it was negative. I figured I was safe. I was overreacting again. A flare and allergies or a mild cold were nothing to panic over. Silly me.

The presentation was fun, or at least mine didn’t feel so painful, and the other person’s presentation was downright enjoyable and enlightening. For once, I felt like I was interacting with professionals on the same page as me, and who value the same sort of things I do. For my first professional function since 2019, it was awesome.

Since Hirocky was in Hiroshima for the night, I needed to get back home to take care of Xen and McCoy, so I couldn’t go out to the end of year dinner with the rest of the attendees — which I was already somewhat relieved about since I was nervous about being in public in spite of my negative test. That ended up being a very good thing.

On my way home, I felt sick, and definitely not in an RA flare, allergy, or cold way. It was a very bad kind of sick. My whole face felt swollen from the inside, like my sinuses had been firebombed and the raging fire was spreading pain through my head and even my teeth. It got so bad, I stopped into a convenience store and bought ice cream and a drink with tons of ice, paid contactlessly and never really came within a meter of anyone at the shop. I knew I needed to be super careful. I knew something was terribly wrong. This was like the sinus infection from hell, and it came on so suddenly, I was scared I wouldn’t make it home.

But using the ice cream and the ice from the drink against my face, and praising my forethought in bringing my work stuff to the presentation — specifically my pencil case where I have a stash of Ibuprofen — I was able to get home.

Things kept getting worse from there. I was covering myself in ice packs because my fever wouldn’t go down no matter what medicine I threw at it. I was shivering and not very coherent. Hirocky promised he would get an early train back and try to find a hospital for me. At this point, we knew this was his “mild cold” that certainly wasn’t mild for someone with my health conditions.

The point of this post isn’t to rag on my lifelong questing companion. However, if this post makes any of its readers think more carefully about how a seemingly minor health issue for one person could end up as a major catastrophe for someone else, then that would certainly be great. My husband had no idea how bad this would be. He just had a minor cold. He didn’t think he’d be needing to rush me to the ER hospital on Sunday. Hydration helped, but even their IV dose of acetaminophen didn’t put a dent in my fever. My CRP was super high, indicating a raging infection. The nurse who administered my IV mentioned it was possible I had Covid, not that he could verify that or anything. He just knew the possibility and had a great deal of experience with such patients. That’s when it started to occur to me that maybe this really was Covid-19.

The next day, we returned to that same hospital. The hydration the previous day made me feel a little better, but I still was pretty bad. Functionally bad? Their triage counter and Covid/Flu check-in protocols were a chaotic mess, with one nurse trying to check me in twice and all the potentially infected folks still having to walk through crowds to get anywhere.

The actual inspection area was a separate building away from everything, so why they had the triage at the main entrance of the main building is beyond me. Yes, let’s have all the potentially infectious folks clustered at the main entrance where everyone, including elderly and immunocompromised folks, will enter the hospital. Then, let’s make those infectious folks walk from this building to the other building through crowds of people outside. I really don’t get this at all.

But the actual dual Cov/Flu inspection was interesting. I did my own swabbing in a plexiglass blast-box. I kid you not. It was the exact kind of box you’d use for some sort of explosive chemical experiment. While my head did feel like it was going to explode, I was amused by the thought that they were prepared in case that actually happened. Instead of such a glorious explosion, I sneezed a bunch into my mask (only my one swabbed nostril was exposed). What a disappointment.

After returning to our car to await the results, I started to feel pretty horrible again and got a tad less functional. The heat and light from the sun was downright painful, so Hirocky actually had to change the direction we were parked in. We waited and waited. It was a really bad sign when they asked us to move the car from the parking lot to the area by the inspection building. If I was negative, we’d go back into the hospital to do more testing, but if I was positive for either flu or Covid, we’d end up having to go home and quarantine. The fact we no longer needed to park in the parking lot hinted it was the latter. I was thinking maybe this was the flu since I had that negative antigen test.

Nope. When they called us in, the nurse set us up with a FaceTime call with a doctor on a large screen iPad Pro (the kind that is larger than most MacBook screens — I think it’s the same one I have from around 2017-18). The doctor explained I was positive. That’s when I pretty much stopped mentally functioning. I cried in the designated infected-person toilet area before we left, and I cried in the car a bit.

Then I sucked it up and tried to do everything I needed to do. By the time I got home, I was dizzy from typing in the car (and the sunlight), but I had contacted my supervisors, coworkers, and everyone else I thought needed to be told immediately. The university health office didn’t think I had put anyone at risk, and they’ve had a forgiving on demand fall-back option for sick instructors for the last year or so. I shouldn’t be stressed or worried about anything since everyone is so supportive. I just need to focus on not feeling so shitty.

So why do I still feel so shitty emotionally too?

The pictures here are AI generated Covid monster sketches I made with Picsart.

[chaos-in-the-making]

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND

****

The sun created a heavy scent of wildflowers in the air that mixed with fresh grass, an unmistakable smell of summer. It was a rare quiet afternoon, and the pair of human wives were collecting herbs and flowers, depending on their mood, while Inuyasha lounged in the shade, surrounded by the remnants of their meal. It was an impromptu picnic, driven by Rin's desire to spent time with her sister in law as they discussed their ever changing pregnancy symptoms. Inuyasha was there because he couldn't stand Kagome being out of his sight for more than ten minutes in her vulnerable state. The sound of their laughter was relaxing in the afternoon warmth.

He was only just starting to doze off when his nose alerted him to a new presence, and hos shoulders briefly tensed.

"Is this blanket large enough for two?"

Sesshoumaru's voice was low and unthreatening, and before Inuyasha could even think about the implications he shrugged and said "sure."

The large demon settled like a cloud on the other side, tucking his arms into his sleeves like a damn noble. Inuyasha waited for something to happen. For Rin to notice her husband and come skipping over. But the women were engrossed in their task, bent over a clump of wildflowers with their backs to the trees. The minutes stretched on, with just a hint of awkwardness between them.

Finally Sesshoumaru broke the silence. "Is your wife feeling better in the mornings?"

Your wife. Sesshoumaru rarely used names, but still the title gave Inuyasha a flushed sensation in his chest.

"Huh? Mornings? Oh! Y-yes, she's much better. Rin told you she was having a hard time, right?" A single grunt was the only answer. "Of course! Yeah. I'm glad kagome can keep more than broth down. Kaede said she's finally gaining weight."

Sesshoumaru nodded in acknowledgement, then they fell into silence, the kind that made Inuyasha itchy. His brother had actually expressed interest. What should he do? What was the right response?

"Uh... h-how about Rin? She seems like she's got more energy."

Was it his imagination, or did Sesshoumaru sigh with relief?

"I thought she would sleep forever," the older man replied. His gaze was soft on the two women in the field. "It is good to see her outside once more."

Inuyasha understood the sentiment. Watching Kagome be sick for two months straight had been agony. They lapsed once more into silence, but it was more relaxed than before. Inuyasha leaned back on his palms, finding it strange how natural it felt with Sesshoumaru close by.

After a while the demon shifted his weight ever so slightly. "Does your wife have... strange tastes?"

Inuyasha blinked as his awareness returned. "Huh? Strange tastes in what?"

"Food, primarily. Rin has been requesting goats milk for some time now. Then she demands sweet rice. Is this a womanly trait?"

Inuyasha barked a laugh. "Yeah, Kagome gets those cravings, too. Only its worse for me, because she wants snacks from the future that she can't get here. A week ago she was crying because she wanted ramen, and last night she was weepy for ice cream." God, he missed ice cream.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head at the strange words, but accepted the explanation. "There is ice on the north mountains that does not melt. Would that satisfy her?"

Inuyasha bolted up straight. "You would do that? Bring back some ice before it melts?"

"Jaken will have it done."

Inuyasha leapt to his feet, excited at the prospect of giving Kagome a taste of home. "I'll trade for some sugar and ask Sango for some cow's milk! If you bring enough ice we can make different flavors for Kagome and Rin! What's her favorite fruit?"

Sesshoumaru thought for only a second. "Melon."

"HA! Those are in season. You grab the ice, I'll grab the rest. If Kagome doesn't kiss us both for this, I'll be a monkey's uncle!"

Sesshoumaru wrinkled his nose at the thought of the miko being so familiar with his body. Rin's touch was all he needed. Even so, he stood up to seek out his vassal and deliver the precious ice.

Whatever the women wanted, the husbands would provide.

Imagining Inuyasha and Sesshomaru sitting and actually having a nice civil conversation but it’s because they’re talking about their human wifeys

[fivenightsathaywire]

Build your own rockstar | Chapter 4/4

Pairing: Glamrock Freddy X Female Reader Tags: Giving birth, pregnancy, fluff, human x machine

Minors DNI

The swell of your stomach caused Glamrock Freddy to feel immensely proud.

After months of repeated treatment, it was successful at last. The spells of morning sickness, bloating and other pregnancy-related ailments were oddly welcome.

Every now and then, Freddy would place a protective hand over his ‘Little Superstar’, as he had so lovingly dubbed your child already, and occasionally brought his metallic muzzle to your stomach to speak to it.

Weeks passed, months passed. The baby grew and so did your tummy, and you were glowing happily by the time you reached your eighth month. So far, it had gone without any trouble, and you had already started building a nursery for the baby.

The other animatronics weren’t as sentient as Freddy Fazbear, not quite comprehending his happiness yet fully aware that there was an adorable child growing inside your womb, and that Freddy would be seen as the father.

“If it’s a girl,” said Roxy, “You should call her Roxanne!”

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, partially because she was deadly serious, and shovelled another spoonful of soft serve topped with tomato slices into your mouth - a strange pregnancy craving, really, but who were they to deny you such a simple pleasure?

Freddy rubbed gentle circles over your back, looking at you in a doting manner. “No, we’ve been thinking about the name–”

“Freddy, don’t spoil it!” you exclaimed with a mouth full of ice cream. You quickly swallowed it, wiping your lips with a napkin. “We can’t say the name of our baby before they are born!”

“Why not? I want to shout it from the rooftops and write songs about them!”

“That’s awfully sweet of you, Freddy, but really… It should be a surprise!”

Freddy’s ears momentarily drooped, but he understood soon enough.

“Don’t you have any standards?” Chica cried out upon witnessing you add a handful of jalapenos to your soft serve. “Even I wouldn’t eat that, (Y/n).”

You shrugged and took another bite. Freddy sighed happily, content with sharing his journey towards fatherhood with his closest friends.

“Alright you all, the tea party is over. Go towards your charging stations lest you be out of power during your show in an hour!”

Vanessa always had to spoil the fun, but you knew that she was right. With a low sound akin to a purr, Freddy nuzzled his nose against your face and you kissed his cold nose.

“Love you, sweetheart.” he told you, “And our Little Superstar.”

You beamed, rubbing his cheek gently. “I love you too, Papa Bear.”

The animatronics did as they had been told, leaving you in the staff restaurant. However, Chica halted next to you, reaching over to tip her oversized finger into your ice cream, having a taste regardless.

She flinched as if she had been able to truly detect flavour. “That’s revolting, (Y/n)! As soon as your pregnancy is over, I am sure you’d say the same.”

You laughed, taking another bite. “I don’t care,” you said, “Right now, I am still pregnant, so allow me to enjoy it now! And good thing that you don’t like it, that means that there is more left for me!”

~*~*~

Your ankles were sore, but you stood near the stage nevertheless, supporting your bulging belly with your hands whilst rubbing coaxing circles over the sore and itchy skin. Making sure to stay out of sight, you watched how Freddy and his friends performed, the crowd going crazy.

The songs were thoroughly familiar to you, for you had heard them time and time again, but you adored to hear Glamrock Freddy’s voice reverberate through the halls of the Mega Pizza Plex. It made you feel safe wherever you walked, for it kept you remembering that he was just around the corner, no matter what happened.

A warm feeling between your legs pulled you out of your concentrated state, and for a minute, you scolded yourself for feeling lustful just because of Freddy’s deep voice trembling through the speakers, but it was soon accompanied by a wave of pain, and the stain in your trousers was way too large to be from any sort of arousal.

“Vanessa?!” you called out at once, panic building in your chest. As quickly as your feet could carry you, you walked backstage, calling out to her, “Vanessa!”

She groggily looked around the corner of the staff room, with bleary eyes, as if she had just woken up from a nap on the sofa. You didn’t blame her, for she had a whole night shift to cover.

“What?”

“I-I think my water just broke!”

She was awake at once, fixing her clothes and rushing over to you. Seeing the obvious stain, she placed you down on the sofa in the staffroom at once, ushering out any other staff members who gave you curious glances.

“Oh, (Y/n), no worries. Just stay calm, I will call the doctor - midwife - hospital, ah! I am prepared for this! Do you need me to fetch Fred–”

You put your hand on her arm, shaking your head. A wave of sudden pain overwhelmed you as your first contraction washed over you. “N-No, you don’t have to get Freddy! Labour… Labour always takes a long time, he will… Have plenty of time to finish the… Show!”

You felt light-headed, and when Vanessa said you were allowed to scream to let it all out, you didn’t have to hear that another time.

The shrill sound of a labouring woman filled the Pizza Plex, just loud enough for Freddy to hear over the blaring music blasting through the speakers. His ears perked up, the words of the song getting stuck in his artificial throat, and he looked behind him. Roxy gave him a strange look as Monty frowned. “Come on, Fredbear! This is your verse!”

Glamrock Freddy, however, was in no shape or form able to finish his performance now that his receptors had picked up your anguish - his true feelings and sentience were always stronger than his program - and he dropped the microphone at once to rush off, causing a deafening squeak to echo through the Megaplex.

“So sorry, ladies and gentlemen!” said Chica, “It seems that Freddy Fazbear has to take a bathroom break! No worries, because Monty, Roxy and I are here to sing you the next song - one of our newest singles!”

Freddy barged into the room and found you at once, your forehead damp with sweat, face distressed and in obvious pain. “Freddy,” you groaned, “Freddy, go finish your show! I will be… Ah! I will be fine! It’s only the first contraction, it will… Get better in a bit!”

“No!” protested Freddy, sitting down next to you to hold you, “I will not leave your side.”

Vanessa was still talking on the phone, her voice muffled by the wall. You listened to it for a second, huffing out deep breaths.

“Freddy, your show–”

“I don’t care about the show. Not when you are here giving birth! No, I will not leave your side.”

Vanessa returned, giving you a determined look. “They are on their way,” she said, and you gave a thankful, watery smile.

You couldn’t wait for this to be over.

~*~*~

Glamrock Freddy had indeed not left your side ever since you had begun your lengthy process of giving birth. Even though he sometimes had to keep his distance albeit at the behest of the doctor or because you were inexplicably yelling at him throughout bouts of intense pain - you had called him ‘Fucking Fazbear’ at least three times now in the past two hours - he remained in close proximity, keeping his eyes focused on your at all times.

Exhausted.

Exhausted, and delighted.

Those were the only two emotions that ran through your veins the very moment they put a wailing, greasy baby girl on your bare chest. You held her at once, letting out a choked sob.

“Freddy,” you cried, “Freddy, look at her!”

The animatronics had no function to cry, but his voice was still thick with emotion when he whispered your name.

“Oh, my sweetheart. Our Little Superstar, our Little Starlet! She’s beautiful. Oh, she’s an angel!”

~*~*~

The other animatronics were delighted to meet your daughter. All shows had been cancelled for the day under the ruse of mechanical error so that everyone had time to settle in and get a look at the newest addition to the ragtag group of machines and humans.

“Little baby!” cheered Sun, “Can she play already? She is going to have so many friends!”

You laughed a bit, rubbing some (h/c) hairs from her forehead before kissing it softly. “Not yet, Sunny. It will take some time for her to grow.”

Sun pouted, but seemed to understand the fragility of the baby.

You held out the infant to Freddy, who carefully took it from you. She looked even smaller now that he was holding her against his chest, deliberately attempting to heat up his systems so that she could warmly snuggle up against him. She looked up at him with large eyes, momentarily threatening to cry, but soon fell asleep again.

“What is her name?” wondered Monty.

Glamrock Freddy and you looked at each other for a moment, smiling.

“Elizabeth.” you said.

A whisper went through the group of animatronics. “Lovely name!” declared Chica.

“Elizabeth, you know, after…” Roxy muttered, causing Freddy to nod.

“Yes. After Elizabeth Afton, may her soul find rest one day.”

The group was silent for a bit, admiring the image of Freddy holding the small girl in his large arms. As soon as she began to get fussy, Freddy gave her back to you so that you could nurse her.

“Can I snap a picture of her wearing my sunglasses?” Monty asked, causing you to laugh out loud.

“Absolutely!” you told him. “And everyone can hold her for a bit, but not right now. It is so wonderful for you guys to be part of her family. I am sure she will love all of you intensely.”

The group of animatronics dared to approach your bed to look at the babe more up close. Across the room, Vanessa stood leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. You locked eyes with her, and a shiver ran down your spine from the odd look in her eyes.

You opened your mouth to call her over so that she could see the baby as well, but the blonde already rushed out of the room, your gut unpleasantly clenching with worry.

Your concern was short-lived, for Elizabeth stirred against your chest and demanded your attention. The animatronics were in awe, lovingly looking at the newborn child. Freddy stroked your hair gently, momentarily having eye contact with you.

The wait had been so worth it, but you were happier than you could ever have imagined.

~*~*~

A wail filled the nursery as two-year-old Lizzie stirred awake from her nap. She turned in her crib to see where her parents were, but did not see them.

The door creaked open, and a boy no older than eleven appeared on the threshold, seemingly running from someone - or something .

The crying stopped at once as curious eyes witnessed how the boy rubbed some shaggy brown hair out of his face and began looking around the room. As soon as his gaze settled upon Elizabeth, he began to slightly panic.

“Oh, hey there!”

The toddler’s lip began to tremble as he approached her carefully.

“I mean no harm,” he promised, “My name is Gregory, and who are you?”

Elizabeth swallowed away her tears, but her attention was soon drawn to the door opening, the voices of her parents drawing closer.

“--Indeed, Vanessa has been acting off lately. Things seem so different when Elizabeth is around the other animatronics, too, when–”

Freddy halted in his tracks when he opened the door, seeing the young trespasser standing next to his daughter’s crib. Behind him stood you, hands underneath your swollen belly, Elizabeth’s sibling due to arrive within two months.

“You are not supposed to be in here,” said Glamrock Freddy with a strict edge to his voice, but you ushered him inside at once, closing the door behind you.

“Start explaining why you are here,” urged Freddy, “Now.”