#if i make another one like this that looks better ill go :)

[captain-huggy-bear]

Priorities

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Illness/comfort

Summary: When Quinn gets a text from you 2 hours before his game, he shows where his priorities lie when he drops it all for you.

Series: Teacher Reader series

Notes: I am not very well atm and I had to drive home dizzy from work the other day, the idea of Quinn being there to help has been stuck in my head so have some self indulgence from me.

A kind of sequel to In Sickness and in Health but you don't need to read that to read this.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

He's already at the rink getting ready for the game in the locker room when his phone goes off. You don't actually ring him, clearly doing that thing you always do where you're trying to not bother him on a game day, instead you send a quick text message. He expects the usual:

'Good luck on the game today, baby!'

Instead, the text he gets has him picking his phone up and calling you back in an instant, worry clouding his judgement and making his hands shake slightly.

'Hey, so guess who's being sent home because she's dizzy and can't breathe? I had my head between my legs for 20 minutes, definitely can't stand and teach. Have a good game x'.

You drop the good luck at the end like he's not supposed to be worried, like you've just casually told him about the weather and not that you we're struggling to breathe.

It doesn't really matter that Tocc is giving him the look, the one he reserves for when he's annoyed at the boys, or that half the locker room have stopped their own pre-game, pre-warm up routines to watch their captain frantically call you. He's pacing back and forth, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for you to pick up the phone.

"Quinn?" You sound so incredibly breathless its like listening to an asthmatic 80 year old who's smoked for half their life. Except you don't smoke and you're not asthmatic or 80 which makes the whole situation about 10 times worse because you shouldn't be struggling to breathe. You should be doing better today.

You've been ill, he knows this, a chest infection he forced you to get meds for on the weekend. Meds which should have started working by now, a heavy dose of antibiotics and steroids which were supposed to have helped. You'd felt well enough this morning to go in and give work another go, but he regrets letting you do that now. Clearly trying to stand up in front of teenagers and talk was not something you should have been doing, not when the school day had only started half an hour ago and you were already being sent home.

"Baby, are okay?" You're sitting on the front steps of the school with all your things when you answer the phone to Quinn's worried voice. You keep telling yourself you just need a minute, just a minute and then you won't feel so dizzy, won't feel so breathless. Just a minute and the tingles in your fingers will go and your hands will stop shaking so much. Just a minute and then you can drive home and get into bed.

"Y-yeah, I'm...I'm just breathless. I'll be okay...they're...they're covering my...my lessons and..." You stop for a minute, taking big deep breathes, you sound so laboured on the phone that Quinn can't help but clench his phone tighter in his hand, "and I'm going home now." Your breaths are wheezy, just like Saturday, in fact he's certain you sound worse.

"How are you getting home?" He knows the answer before you say it and he hates it before he even hears it. You're dizzy and breathless and there is no way you should be driving home at all, but he knows you. Self-reliant to a fault, a martyr, always pushing yourself past the point of no return because you think you're fine, because you convince yourself you're fine. Because you don't want to inconvenience anyone or cause more problems. You ask to little of people around you, expecting barely anything despite all you give.

"I'm...I'm going to...to drive."

"No. You're not. I'm going to come get you." You want to protest a lot more than you do if you're being honest. But, you're so tired and it's so hard to breathe and students wandering in late to school are staring at you like you're having a break down. So your protests are relatively lacklustre by your usual standard. That actually worries him more.

"It's...there's like 2 hours before the game...you've...you've got warm ups soon." You hate the idea of him missing warm ups or god forbid the game, all because you were too stupid to realise you shouldn't have gone into work in the first place.

"So, I'll get you, take you home and come back to the rink and play. I'll walk to the school tomorrow and collect your car so you don't have to worry about it. But, you aren't driving, baby. If you even try to get in that car I will being fucking pissed. I love you, you do not get in that car." You know he's serious in that moment, not just because he's very rarely angry at you or anyone but himself, outside of the rink, but because he's got that clipped tone he only uses when he's serious. This isn't a request, it's a direct order and you have no intention of disobeying it, not when you know he's right...not when it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside that he's so insistent about your wellbeing.

"But, what...what if you miss warm ups?" He loves how much you support him and his hockey, he always will, but he hates that your first thought is that hockey should come first. His girlfriend can barely breathe right now and he quite honestly doesn't give a flying fuck if he misses warm ups. The team had to pull themselves together at some point and you came first. Always. If they couldn't manage warm ups without him then what was the point of paying them so much money?

"Warm ups aren't my priority, baby. You are. Do not get in the car. Do not drive. Do not move. I'm leaving right now, okay? Just sit on the steps of the school and take deep breaths." He's already grabbing his keys, not even bothering to change out of his gear other than putting some proper shoes on so that he can actually drive. He knows it'll spark some speculation and rumours, Captain of the Canucks storming out of the arena 2 hours before puck drop in full gear except his skates, but he doesn't fucking care about that right now.

"...Okay...thank you, Quinny. I love you." You say it because in that moment you have never felt so loved, to have someone drop everything, something so important, to come get you...Maybe its the meds, maybe its the breathlessness, the infection, but you feel like crying a little because of how sweet he is even when he's bossing you about.

"I'll see you soon, baby. I love you too."

He doesn't waste time once he hangs up, just turns straight to Tocc and tells him, "I'll be back."

The look he gets is a mixture of disbelief, frustration and confusion and he really can't blame Tocc for it. Not when Quinn is the captain, the player that seems to make a massive difference on the ice, and he's about to run out the doors 2 hours before the game? Yeah, he knows Tocc doesn't want to hear it.

"Quinn, where you going? We have a game in 2 hours?!" He knows he's going to be cutting it fine with Vancouver traffic and getting to your school, the apartment and back to the arena, but he's not letting you drive. He could live with missing a game, losing a game, but he couldn't live with himself if he let you drive home and something happened. His job was to look after you, if he failed at that? What was the fucking point?

"Tocc, I'll be back. I promise. But, right now my girlfriend is unable to breathe and dizzy and I'm not letting her drive home, okay? Sooner I leave, sooner I come back."

Maybe it's the insistence on Quinn's face, the reality that if he was forced to stay he wouldn't play well anyway. Maybe it's that you and Tocc get along and he can see a hint of concern in the other man's eyes or maybe Tocc just trusts him that much. But, he actually agrees to let him go. Not that Quinn could really be forced to stay. They'd have to tie him to the bench.

"Okay, I'm trusting you."

"Thanks."

Quinn ignores every single person he storms past, every employee, every fan outside, every person with a camera that starts asking him where he's going as he starts his car with one destination in mind. Maybe he seems rude, maybe he seems standoffish, but he doesn't really care because right now you are sat on the steps of a school struggling to breathe and he just wants to see you and get you home and into bed.

He doesn't even care that he knows Tocc is going to be questioned about his absence or that he can already hear his phone pinging with notifications from social media, most likely people asking where he was going and speculating.

'Just saw Quinn Hughes storm out of Rogers Arena in full gear, finally got fed up of his team?'

'Um, is anyone else panicking that Hughes just left the arena like 2 hours before puck drop?'

'Captain Lexapro has officially lost it with this team, just stormed out of the arena!!'

He tries his best not to break any traffic laws getting to you, despite the fact he has a lead foot that wants to press harder on the accelerator. But, he knows you'd hate it and you'd worry more about him getting a ticket, so he just grips the steering wheel tighter until he's turning into the school car park.

He doesn't try to park in a proper space, just pulls up as close to you as possible before hopping out. Your head is between your legs, shoulders rising and falling in laboured breaths and he feels like he's been punched in the stomach at how bad you sound.

"Oh, baby..." He's kneeling on the dirty ground within seconds and you try, through broken gasps to tell him he'll get his hockey socks dirty, but he doesn't listen to you, just reaches to pull you into a hug.

"Let's get you home, okay? Tomorrow we're going back to the doctors, okay?" You're leaning your head into his shoulder so heavily that he's worried you might actually pass out. It's like the moment his arms wrap around you, you just give up on holding yourself up. In truth, that's kind of what happens. You just want to lean into him, soak up the comfort of your boyfriend lighting petting your hair and whispering into your ear.

"Don't y-you have...practice?"

"I think I can fit the doctors in around practice, baby..." He doesn't tell you, but he'd forgo practice for you. He doesn't care about anything but how you're doing and you're not okay. Quinn can see that better than anyone.

"Alright, up you get..." He stands first, hands reaching for yours to help pull you to your feet. You sway before him like you're on a 16th century galleon in a thunderstorm, forehead plonking on his chest heavily, "Atta, girl. There we go." He just strokes your hair and back while you wait for the dizziness to pass, he knows each second will make him later to the arena but he's not going to rush you when you're struggling just to stand without fainting.

"Alright, let me get your stuff and then we'll take it one step at a time, baby, okay?"

"O..okay...one step...at a time." He tries his best not to let go of you completely as he bundles your work bag onto his shoulder. Quinn is as quick as he can be with it, before pulling you under his arm and helping you inch step by step towards the car.

It's slow going, every few steps you get a little dizzy and he waits for you to nod before he pushes you forward again. You're drained, dark circles under your eyes and skin losing some of its usual colour by the time you reach the car.

Quinn had purposefully pulled up the car with the passenger side facing you and you're thankful not to have to walk around the car as you brace yourself against the door for a moment. Quinn helps ease you into the seat, reaching over to put your seatbelt on for you and adjust the headrest so you can lean back. It eases some of the weight in your chest.

"Nearly home, okay, baby?"

You just nod, exhausted as his hands cup your cheeks tenderly, spreading a soft sort of affection through your already aching chest. He's so gentle as he looks down at you, fingers rubbing circles in your cheeks, but he looks so worried and you feel so guilty because he shouldn't have to be that worried.

"You've been so brave, baby, you're so brave...soon you'll be in bed and you can watch the game and sleep, okay?" He knows you'll want to watch the game if you're sat at home, mostly because you watch every game he plays even if its on catch up, but also because he knows it'll reassure you that he made it back in time.

You nod again, blinking up at him so tired that he can't help but frown.

"Atta, girl. My brave girl." The kiss Quinn presses to your forehead is short and sweet, not lingering but filling you with warmth and lightness even as he closes the door on you and gets into the driver's side.

You miss his comforting touch and as if he knows this, his hand reaches for your thigh at any given opportunity when it isn't in use to drive. The stability of it, the comfort of just having him there is so welcome and helps you to relax back into the seat as he drives.

It's just as hard work getting you into the apartment, thankful as ever that the elevator actually works, but once you're in, Quinn feels ten times lighter.

"Right, lets get you comfy, baby...you want one of my jerseys or a hoodie?"

"Jersey...the....the black one, please."

"Okay, sit down, there ya go, good girl.." He watches you the entire time from the corner of his eye, scared you'll lean too far forward from how you're hunched over on the edge of the bed. He tries to make the entire thing quick, reaching for his black jersey, the extra big one that he bought home because you liked how it dwarfed you and even dwarfed him.

"Arms up, baby..." He helps you out of your work blouse and your bra, slipping the jersey over the top quickly to avoid the shivers you start shaking with.

The worst part is getting you to your feet to get your bottoms off. Quinn helps you rise to your feet before kneeling in front of you, dragging your hands to his shoulders for support as he helps you inch out of the remainder of your work clothes. Your fingers grip his shoulders so tight that he's certain you might leave bruises but he doesn't really care, just happy to get you comfy and help you into bed.

You're bundled under as many blankets as he can find, plus the heated blanket you got at Christmas. A big jug of water beside the bed, snacks piled high because he is not having you try to go all the way to kitchen without supervision right now.

"You want the game set to go on?"

"Y...yes, please...wanna watch you play." He turns the television on, setting it to the NHL game set to go live in less than an hour now and he knows he's going to miss warm ups at this point. Tocc's probably blowing up his phone and he knows he's cutting it fine...but you look so small bundled up in bed and he actually hates the idea of leaving you alone. He hates not having his family near all the time as a general rule, but in that moment he hates it so much more. If his mum or dad had been near he could have asked Ellen or Jim to check in on you, instead you were going to be all alone and he hated it.

"I'll score for you, yeah? You can watch me score and maybe we'll win and then I'll come and make us dinner. That sound good, baby?"

"Perfect..." Quinn smooths your hair back from your face, tucking a strand behind your ear even as he uses it as an excuse to feel your temperature. Not unreasonably warm which reassures him a little that you're at least not feverish.

He just keeps sitting there next to you, stroking your hair and caressing your cheek to the point that as much as you're loathe to get him to stop and to leave, you have to remind him he can't stay here. He has a game he's already running late to.

"You...you have to go, Quinn...I'll be okay..."

"If you're not, you'll phone 911, right?" He smooths your hair back again, in truth he really doesn't want to leave you there like that. Even as you seem to be breathing a little better now you're lying down. He considers just not going, if they lose they lose...but he knows he can't. He's captain, he promised he'd be back...and you'd be unhappy with him. He might be your boyfriend but the Canucks were your team and you'd likely make him sleep on the couch for a week.

"I promise...just go win for me?"

"Okay, sweet girl." He presses a last lingering kiss to your forehead, before getting up to leave. But, he still lingers in the doorway for a moment until you push him to go.

Once he's out of the apartment he's rushing. Barely any time and honestly when he finally gets back to the arena and gets his skates on he's surprised he's just in time to go out on the ice for the anthem...cold, not warmed up in the slightest, not ready at all to play a game, but willing to.

Tocc stops him as he's passing the bench to get to the ice, "Cutting it fine, Hughes!" despite the gruff tone, Quinn can tell that Tocc is just relieved that Quinn's back in time. As are the guys who all look at him with varying shades of relief as if they'd been freaking out the entire time. Which they probably had.

"Told you I'd be back." Quinn says it with such confidence, even though inside he knows he nearly missed the entire game. To be honest if you hadn't forced him out the apartment then he'd probably have been late at best.

"How is she?" Tocc's voice is soft, concerned and Quinn appreciates it. He appreciates that as a coach Tocc doesn't just care about how much they cost or how well they play, he cares about them and their families too...and you're included in that, ring or not.

"Not good...but safe at home."

"You need practice off tomorrow?"

"Please, I need to get her to the doctors..."

"Done. Now go help us win the game." Tocc gives him a clap on the shoulder before pushing him out onto the ice and just like that Quinn slips into captain mode.

Locked in like he always is even if his legs don't feel as loose and his stick feels a little less familiar in his hands. Knowing you're home safe helps, he can put the thought of you to the back of his mind, knowing you're safe in the apartment, comfortable and surrounded by everything you need.

You find it hard to focus on the game, but force yourself to, determined to watch Quinn play and to see the goal he intends to score for you. Maybe it's silly, there's no guarantee he'll actually score, but you can tell from the moment he's on the ice that it's one of the few things on his mind. Shot after shot after shot, a determined series of attempts that remind you how important you are to him even as you lie wheezing in bed, eating as much chocolate as Quinn put out for you.

It's part way through the first period with one goal already to Vancouver thanks to Petey that the issue of Quinn's disappearance pre-game is raised.

"Quinn Hughes was nearly late to the game today, the captain missed warm ups but that's certainly not stopping him now!" Shortie's voice rings through the room, a familiar cadence that makes you feel comforted.

"No, it's not, Shortie, do we know why Hughes was late?" Dave responds and for a moment you can't quite comprehend that you've managed to cause this much of a ruckus.

"It hasn't been confirmed and you know I'm not much of a gossip..." You have a little giggle a Shortie even as you are the topic of conversation because it's not really much in the way of gossip and it's so silly.

"But?"

"Apparently he had a family emergency, his girlfriend is very unwell and he dropped everything to go get her."

"Well, that's just.."

"Romantic? Sweet?"

"I was going to say so unlike the Quinn Hughes we used to know, the one who only thought about hockey." You think back to Quinn when you first met, how everything had been hockey, hockey, hockey. You hadn't minded, your own love of the sport meant that you could handle it. But, it's true...Quinn had been rethinking his priorities ever since you started dating, where he might have prioritised hockey once, he'd started to prioritise you. You're not entirely sure at what point you became that important in his life, but it made you feel warm and fuzzy all over.

"I think it's a good thing, that's a sign of growth, just like Hughes' shot!" Shortie cuts himself off as you watch the camera pan to Quinn, following his agile movements across the ice as he skips past the other team's players as if it's as easy as breathing, "He's in past the defence, he lines up the shot and an unassisted goal for Quinn Hughes! Vancouver goal!"

You smile wide as you watch Quinn grin, celebrating with his team in a series of hugs before he finds a camera. There's a moment where you know he's grinning at you, for you, a cheeky little wink sent through the screen as if to say 'told you I'd score for you'.

"I suspect that one was for the girlfriend, Shortie."

You watch the entire game, trying not to nod off to sleep between periods. While you can't cheer and you certainly don't have the energy to celebrate too hard, every Canuck goal makes you feel lighter and brings a smile to your face.

The end result of a 5-2 win to the Canucks makes it easy for you to drift off as the game ends and the waiting for Quinn begins.

He's running off a high when the game ends, even more so when Boeser offers to take over press duties so Quinn can get back to you quickly.

The apartment is quiet when he comes in, "Baby?" not a sound comes back in response and he's careful to move quietly through the apartment to the bedroom doorway.

You're fast asleep, breathing heavy but nowhere near as bad as earlier in the day, you're surrounded by chocolate wrappers and he's quiet as he picks them all up and puts them in a bin, replacing them with the puck he scored with on your bedside table.

He tiptoes back to the kitchen quietly pottering around to make some dinner for you while you're still asleep, nothing fancy but protein, carbs and veg. The sort of thing that's definitely boring but also definitely what your body needs right now.

"Baby, time to wake up...I've made you dinner." He's gentle when he wakes you, soft fingers down your cheek as you stir awake, blinking up at him bleary eyed. Quinn helps you sit upright, the tray of food settling neatly in your lap.

"Where's...where's yours?"

"On the table, you want me to eat in here with you, sweetheart?"

He's moving before you finish nodding, grabbing another tray and his plate before joining you on the bed. He spends most of his dinner watching you eat, making sure you're not leaving large amounts and that you're okay.

He's happy about the win, happy about the score, but he's mostly just happy to be back with you and knowing that you're eating and you're okay, if not well.

Quinn's quick to tidy up your trays and even quicker to get back to you and get into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, sliding under the covers with you and pulling you into his arms.

Your cheek rests against his chest, the steady thump of his heart a soothing sound that helps some of the anxiety about being off work ease off. Quinn's fingers caress circles and weird shapes across your arm and shoulder as he tucks you tight against him, legs twined together. Every so often he presses a kiss to your forehead, your cheek, the top of your hair, as if reassuring himself that you're okay and he's got you.

"You scored..." You mumble into his t-shirt, a small smile working it's way to your lips as his hand moves up to run through your hair, stopping at your scalp every now and then to scratch lightly until you feel like purring even if that purr is more of a wheezy rumble.

"Mmm, for you, baby." Quinn smiles down at you, another kiss pressed to your cheek.

"T...the wink?" His smile weakens slightly at your still stumbling breathlessness and the wheeze and crackle that accompany it.

"Just for you, sweet girl."

"I'm...I'm proud of you, y'know?" You smile up at him so sweetly that he can't help but feel certain in his choices today. Yeah, nearly missing a game was rough, and maybe the press are going to be dicks about it and maybe he would have felt guilty if he'd missed the game or they'd lost...but he knows he'd skip a million games if it meant you were being looked after, were safe.

"I know...and tomorrow you're going to show me how proud you are by letting me take you to the doctors again."

"Ugh..." You groan, hiding your face into his chest like that will stop him from dragging you to the doctors. Your stubbornness normally cute but in this moment less so.

Quinn cups the back of your head until your looking up at him, green eyes meeting yours with a pleading stare that makes your resolve tremble and shudder. "Please? I'm worried about you, baby...I was really scared when I got that text from you."

"Yeah?" You hate that you worried him...it's that worry that makes you concede that maybe you need to go back to the doctors and maybe as much as you hate it, you'll do it, for Quinn.

"Yeah. I can replace hockey, I can play another game if I miss one. But, I can't replace you. Let me take you to the doctors."

There's a beat of silence as he pleads with you, eyes soft, worried, gentle, thumb stroking soothingly across the base of your neck and you can't really deny him this. Not when you know you'd feel exactly the same if the roles were reversed, not when he nearly missed a game for you today and went in completely cold turkey to win it.

"Okay...as...as long as you keep cuddling me."

"I think I can do that, baby." You curl back into his arms like the spot was carved just for you and in that moment Quinn Hughes knows that you have fully hit the top of his priority list, no ands, ifs, buts or maybes. You could ask him to quit hockey tomorrow and he'd do it. He'd do anything for you and that should be terrifying, but it's not because he knows you'd never ask too much of him. If anything you ask too little.

[icarusredwings]

Obedient demons, devlish Angels.

Wade is so bad at his job he almost starves to death. And Logan is so bad at his, that he makes sure He dosn't.

Tw: depiction of rejection sensitivity, vauge sex, open/closed relationship dynamics, sick/ill demons, "eating" problems, what the title says.

@nuggetpool-hi

No one:

Wade, rubbing up against Logan like a cat: Plllleeeeaaasseee?? Pretty please? I'm staaarrvvinngg Loagie!

Logan, sitting in a chair reviewing the bible: You just ate yesterday; Wade. You aren't starving...

Wade: Yes, I am! You left me here to go spend the night with kurt so Im hungry! Honest! Please?? I'll be quick! You won't even know im down there-

Logan: Enough! I'm tired of this. Stop. Every time I come back, all you wanna do is have sex and I know you kinda have too but I dont want to! Do you ever think about that? Do you ever stop and wonder if I even want to?!

Wade, backing away, tail tucked: ......i-.. I do all the time...

Logan: Apprently not because I already said no! And you just keep-.....

Wade: *anxiously picking at his nails, head down and clearly ashamed to just exist* ....sorry...

Logan: No... Wait- Wade no... I didnt-

Wade, already crying, streaks of red coming down his neck and cheeks: n-no.. Its okay.. i-I wont ask anymore..

Logan: *sighs* I didn't mean it like that... Im just.. frustrated...

Wade, hurt, tears falling: I-its fine.. really. I Just..y-youre so nice to me when-.. when we do it and..and..

Logan, getting up: *reaches out a hand* No, Wade, I didn't mean to- You dont have to find someone else. Ill do it, Just.. just gimme a second okay?

Wade, shaking his head, backing up: No.. I-i wont ask anymore. It's fine.. dont worry about it..

Logan, watching Wade lay down and curl up on his side of the bed, now feeling terrible: ...so... y-you aren't hungry anymore..? Or.. cause we can! I dont mind Its just... *another sigh* Look. Wade.. I don't want you to be hungry..

Wade, whispering: I'll be okay...

Logan then puts his stuff away, trying to pull Wade close. He's squirming, trying to shy away but Logan forces him to stay in his chest, kissing his forehead and softly apologizing. Wade's bloody face heightens Logans primal angelic insticts, fighting the adrenaline rush of battle to keep his touches gentle, rubbing his back with slit yellow eyes. Being a warrior of the lord was difficult when demon bloods scent alone activated the strong desire to overcome evil, esspecially when the one in your arms isn't evil at all, just forever hungry.

*The next day*

Logan: Waade. Im back! Let me eat real quick and ill feed ya.

Wade: *streatches and yawns* Mmh Nah.

Logan: Nah? But yesterday you were whining about how hungry you were.

Wade: Im not hungry anymore. Got some pathetic sap in the chapel.

Logan:...... you..got someone else?;

Wade, non sarcastically, if anything simply explaining: Yeah. Thought you were getting tired of feeding me so.. you know. Besides. Gotta keep the sinners coming back right? Heh heh."

Logan: .....Yeah.... yeah.. thats fine.. thats.... who was it?

Wade: i...I dont know? Just some guy. Fuck, Angel, If I didnt know any better Id say you're acting.... jealous~"

Logan, biting his tounge: No! I just dont-...nevermind..

Wade: You don't like what?

Logan, thinking, his chest tight: I... I don't like you feeding on others.

Wade, gasping: Really!?

Logan: B-but its not like that!! I-i just mean- what kind of an angel would I be if i let a demon feed on the innocent?

Wade, now giggling: Ohh yeaahh suuuree

Logan, finally coming to lay down: Im serious!! You might accidently drain them too much and then what would that make me? A terrible protector. Thats what.

Wade, now pulling his face close, holding his cheeks lovingly: D'aaaaaww~ Loagie baby dosn't want me sleeping around on him? My big brave strong angel boy wants this demon ass all to himself? Hm??

Logan, blushing: No!! I didn't say that! Im just doing my duty as an angel to protect citizens and-

Wade is smirking: Oh yes, your civil duty of fucking a succubus every day, right? Liks you Sooo dont love my tight ass? Hm? And when I nip your balls or when-

Logan, completly red: ENOUGH! ..S-shut up..

This bickering and banter goes on for a while longer before they end up cuddling and falling asleep in each others arms. Wade feels loved in an emotional sense, it feels much better then the other 'love' he got ealier.

*the next x 7 days*

Logan: Hey Wade. Service ended early today and Kurt has a meeting. So im all yours. What do you w-.... Wade? Are you alright?

Wade, weak, curled up inside of the blanket: ....

Logan: Wade?? Come on, don't trick me. Whats wrong? *puts his hand on his forehead. He has a fever but he's shaking. Or was he just hot cause hes a demon? Either way, hes too warm for Logan's liking.* Do demons get sick?

Wade, clinging to his hand with his own, desperate for attention and affection: .. Please..

Logan: Please what? What do you need?

Wade, whos clamy, breathing uneven, and who is now whimpering: N-nothin... i-im fine.

Logan: Wade... tell me whats wrong.

Wade, shaking his head: N-no...I-i dont want to ask anymore..

Logan, finally getting it, realizing that this last week has been all cuddles. He hasn't fed Wade in an entire week: Come on. Get up, Ill-

Wade, whining as if it hurts to talk: I can't..

Logan, now worrying: Y-you cant get up? Oohh.... fuck wade!! Why didn't you say anything!? When I said I didn't want too at that moment I didn't mean starve yourself to death!! Shit!.. okay.. uhm..

Wade, tearing up, silent and holding his hand, logan is squeezing it: ...Im sorry... i-i didnt want to make you upset...

Logan, panicking: Why didn't you just-?!

Its now Logan remembers telling Wade he isn't allowed to feed on the church goers or clergy anymore. He feels terrible.

Logan: You... you listened.. you obeyed an angel?

Wade, eyes closed, trying to ignore his pain: Only my angel...

Logan, smiling, feeling himself tear up. One drops onto Wade.

Wade, whining because angel tears are holy water: OWCH!! W-whhhy??

Logan: Sorry! Sorry I just.. *wipes eyes* Im going to fix this. I promise. Can I fix it? Please?

Wade: If youre asking consent to fuck me then Yes.

And so Logan does. Connecting their foreheads, their tears softly mixing into a slight diluted sting each time they touched one another, kissing like it was the end of the world, the passion and adjustments Logan had is slow. Tender. And passionate. The kind you only really gave to a loyal lover who you've just returned to. A farmilar feeling of home and satisfaction feeding Wade back to health. They must have fucked at least three times that night because in the morning Wade was springy as ever, like a spring chicken being put into a new pasture, the old tired cock trailing behind just happy that the hen was healthy again.

[but-the-library-of-alexandria]

after much debate upon the subject of my new years resolution (options ranging from a long list of ways I could be better to simply 'be worse'), I have of course chosen, belatedly, the dumbest one:

Leaf Quest 2025!

And I'd love for you to join me! Here's the template spreadsheet, please make your own copy to use:

What is leaf quest?

Leaf Quest is simple: I am going to make it my mission to find, identify, catalogue, and rate the leaves I encounter this year. I already have a decent working knowledge of local flora, but if you don't, all the better!

As a nature lover plagued with Chronic Illness, it makes me sad how little I get out into nature anymore - walking isn't great for me and I tend to save my Walking Budget for special occassions, and as I will rant about on another post very soon, I am a big advocate for dismantling the idea that The Outdoors is only for Exercise. This quest gives me a reason to go outside for short periods and have non-exercise-related Nature Time. It's also really good mindfulness and will be great for the brain.

FAQ:

Why should I do Leaf Quest?

Leaf Quest will help encourage you to:

Get some fresh air, even if just for five minutes

Practice basic mindfulness by noticing and really considering your surroundings

Ground you in material reality when The Discourse and The Screens are plaguing your mind

Train the Gatherer part of your brain

Go to new places for no reason but to explore (for free!)

Feel more connected to the seasons and your ecosystem

Learn about plants n stuff

Give you a whimsical sort of motivational goal for the year

I don't get out much, can I still do Leaf Quest?

Leaf Quest is designed to get you out, even if it's just a few steps from your front door: it's meant to be as accessible as possible. I encourage you to drive or take public transport to new places if you can't walk far. Even if you're housebound, try stopping to identify and catalogue leaves you see in photographs!

There isn't much flora where I live, can I still do Leaf Quest?

First of all, I think you'd be surprised what's hidden in the cracks if you look for it. Secondly, leaves don't have to be found in the wild - you can also find leaves in the supermarket, in pots in people's homes, etc. The aim is not to find The Most Leaves, it's simply to take the time to notice and appreciate them.

Is it difficult/do I need to know about plants?

No and no! there are some good plant ID websites and apps out there, but frankly, you don't have to ID each leaf, and certainly not correctly. If you just wanna find a leaf and rate it without knowing what plant it belongs to, you're still benefiting from Leaf Quest as intended. You can always delete (or add!) columns from your copy of the Quest Log Spreadsheet. And remember, no pressure to 'succeed' at this, it's just for fun! You can do as much or as little as you like.

Are we compiling results as a group?

No, each person's Leaf Quest is their own personal journey. However, you could use the #leaf quest 2025 if you want to talk about it or compare with other Questers.

Are you autistic?

Yes. I am also an archivist by trade, so you can trust the integrity of my cataloguing template.

Today I am beginning to catalogue the leaves in my parents' garden: it's small, but there's so much there I'm sure it'll take me some time, especially as seasons change.

Best of luck on your quests!

[hannahssimblr]

Astrid, 

Hope you got my postcard from Phuket, and that the Bangkok one shows up, eventually. Maybe it is actually lost, like maybe I’m doing something wrong at the post office. It’s fine if they all go into the abyss. I am writing just to write, because it feels romantic or whatever. You probably hate the idea of this. I could just text you. I texted you forty-five minutes ago. Still miss you. 

We’re in Phi Phi now. Islands, very beautiful. I bet you already know about them, but I’d never heard about this place before I came here. The landscape is kind of mental, like giants made it. Weird to look at. We went out on a little boat yesterday to see the sights. Jonas jumped off and swam, and I did not. My tattoo is still healing. Stupid fucking thing. I waved over a boat of girls and told them Jonas was saying he fancied them, and then he got annoyed with me, because he wasn’t saying that, and he was embarrassed. I think he should learn to talk to women without wanting to die, and he says I think about women too much, that I’m too invested and I should think about something else. History, philosophy, whatever. Why would I when there are women like you on the earth?

At night, instead of going out and drinking, we go to bed early, in our bunks, him on the top, me below like always, and he tells me all this shit about the Suez canal, or what the Falklands war was all about, since I was stupid enough to ask a follow up question once. Then I fall asleep to escape the boredom. We get up at six and do activities, then. Lots of walking. My body hurts. 

Jonas finally tried those scorpions he was banging on about, and now he’s sick, btw. Food poisoning. I don’t really know how to take care of him, except coming back to the hostel every few hours, making sure he has water. Until he’s better, I guess I’m just wandering around on my own. Luckily, it’s nice to look at. Maybe today I’ll swim with my arm out of the water. Running out of space. Love and miss you can't wait to see you.

xxx Jude. 

I snap open the lid of a bottle of water and carry it into the hostel room. It smells bad there, but I’ve stopped saying it, because it makes Jonas look like he’s about to cry. He’s curled up on his bunk, a complexion like curdled yoghurt, as a chink of morning light spills through the blinds and over his shivering body. Mostly naked. Too hot, then too cold, then sipping water, then throwing it up. I hover in the doorway. 

“I’ve water,” I say, and he just stares. Resigned, half-dead, maybe. “Should you go to hospital or something, do you think?”

“No, I feel slightly better.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want the water, or?”

“Yes. Bring it to me.”

I approach him like a leper, not sure why, as I’m fully aware he’s not contagious, but it’s been ten days since I’ve thrown up, and I’d like to maintain my healthy aura. He regards me with bleary eyes as I back away. “It is good you are an artist and not a nurse.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not so good with illness.”

“Even though you are always ill.” A tentative sip from the bottle. “You went out this morning?”

“To the post office.”

“Another postcard to Astrid.”

“Yes.”

I can tell he wants to laugh but lacks strength, managing only a feeble wheeze. “Is she missing you as much as you are missing her?”

“No, I don’t think so. She’s much better at distance.”

“She’s an independent person.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what she is doing today.”

“It’s Wednesday, so probably going to reformer pilates. Then she’s supposed to meet a friend from university for lunch. After that, I don’t know. Something spontaneous and thrilling, probably.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

He manages a watery smile. “You’ll be doing nothing again today? Missing her?”

“I was thinking I might wade into the sea, actually. Keep walking out until I disappear, wailing after Astrid like the pathetic little freak I am.”

“It’s Wednesday?”

“Yes, Wednesday.”

“I signed up for something today.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be going, by the cut of you.”

“No,” giving up on the water for now, he rolls onto his back, watching insects congregate around the plastic light fixture. “You could go in my place. It’s a… meditation thing.”

I pull a face. “Meditation? That thing where you sit cross-legged and go like ‘om’?” I demonstrate, but feel bad for making him laugh. Apparently a bit painful for him. 

“Yes,” he says. “Kind of. You might find value in it.”

“Is that the kind of guy you think I am? With like, dirty feet and harem pants?”

“Since I am the one who signed up, is it the kind of person you think I am?”

“Not far off.”

“Well, meditation has many benefits. It’s not just for the dirty-feet-squad. It’s good for people who suffer with various mental health concerns, and people who have racing thoughts they cannot stop and such things. Maybe it will inspire you to stop thinking about women’s breasts.”

I scoff. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“So you can think of more productive things that will inform you, and grow your mind rather than rotting it away.”

“Like the Falklands war, for instance.”

“Yes, like the Falklands war,” he says, suddenly animated. “Thank you for saying that. Or the targeting of Libyan migrant workers on suspicion of being mercenaries by—”

I take a brisk and decisive step out of the room. “Well! Glad you’re feeling better, Jonas. See you later. Keep drinking that water, et cetera.” I swing the door shut and amble away, down the hostel hallway and back to the beach, rearing for another day of nothing, bored senseless by the edge of a lonely ocean.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[thedissonantverses]

5 or 17 for the Rook story time ask game!

Thank you so much for asking and for making the game!! You work so hard to make the community a better place and I appreciate you so much! @operative-arrow and @biowaredisasterbisexual I was so tempted to do 5 more than once but I gotta like chill hahahah so gonna do it here! The Rook Storytime Ask if anyone is interested! It's really good!!

5. Rook being seriously ill(I decided to set this in the time Rook was traveling with Varric and Harding for my AU consider it a bonus scene:

Her fever spiked again. Harding mopped her forehead, and she closed her eyes.

"If you want to tell me I told you so, now is the time." Rook tried to smile, and Harding shook her head.

"This isn't your fault. He didn't mean it. He's just worried."

Varric couldn't seem to stand being in the room he'd rented at the inn just for Rook to get better. She hated it, laying her on his dime, all because she'd wanted to pursue the lead they'd had. Whatever she'd caught had torn through her. She was seeing two of Harding then one. Time had lost all meaning. All there were her chattering teeth and aching joints and the fire licking her skin. Harding sighed.

"You're getting better. You are. I just need to you to hang on."

Rook reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "If I don't-"

"Sihu there's no need for-"

"Let me say this. I just need you to know. If I die tell Varric...tell him I didn't care for the last installment of Shields and Sorcerers. It wasn't his best work."

"I heard that!" Varric's telltale footsteps reaching the door. He'd brought back another mage, apparently having fired the last one.

Harding blinked. Once. Twice. Then she hit Rook with the rag.

"You boob!"

Rook laughed and then started coughing, laying back on the pillows.

"Fine just send the letter in my bag to my friend-"

"Yes yes. Davrin. We know. You keep saying his name in your sleep."

Rook's turn to start. "I do?"

"You do." Harding laughed. "He must be a really good friend."

Rook huffed closing her eyes as the healer got to work, thinking of her last sickbed. "The best."

17. Rook teaching someone else a skill. (I am tentatively working on a new Davrook AU set in a very different time period in Thedas where they meet as kids so that's what I'm going with here they're about 13)

Davrin missed. The rabbit ran off into the brush. Heat climbed his neck at Rook's laugh. He lowered the bow and glared at her. She had put her hands over her mouth to stifle her giggle. Eldrin let out a bark of laughter and that only made it worse.

"Like you can do better." His voice cracked in his indignation which only made her laugh harder. He started to stalk off to get away from both of them when Rook darted over, picking up the bow. She was like that, quick and flighty, never in one spot. His irritation only grew when she knocked the arrow.

"You're thinking too much." She said primly, aiming towards the lure. She was as scrawny as he was, but she made it look easy, pulling it smoothly.

"She's right you know." Eldrin bit into an apple, chewing loudly, smacking his gums. "Relax."

"Ever think I'm tired from shoveling halla crap all day?" Davrin wasn't sure why he was so angry.

Rook released, handing him the bow. "Oh quit whining. I'm just trying to help!"

"Well you're not!"

"Children settle down. Rook quit showing off. Davrin shut up and listen to her." Eldrin chomped like one of his halla, chewing straight through the core.

Davrin grabbed the bow. He lined up, but his hand slipped and he nearly threw it. Rook put her hand over her mouth to show she was listening to Eldrin. Davrin rolled his eyes, relenting.

"Fine. Show me."

[starry-bi-sky]

i think i'm hilarious -- aka i made blood blossom danny au memes

all of these come from my DpxDC prompt "i am pushing the batdad agenda--" and it's corresponding additions in the reblogs ksdjlf.

i am. rotating them in my head. forever and always. personally i think there should be more batdad aus in dpxdc, their dynamic could be neat. :)

[puppppppppy]

axolotl

[cloudycloudsminusclouds]

not my best work but also like. who cares. woe explosion be upon ye

[some-pers0n]

Every once in a while I think about the ship I've been obsessed over for close to two years now and feel like I'm ascending to another plane of reality. Like sometimes you just encounter a ship that hits every single mark and is perfect in every regard and you're left stunned how something like that can even exist

[icewindandboringhorror]

currently at That Point which occurs once every few months where one briefly begins pacing around the house teary eyed contemplating selling their own organs or becoming an online scammer or getting on anxiety meds so you can bear the risk taking required to be a hitman or so on and so forth.... why must everything so Expensive... Surely all would be healed in life if only I had one big plate of lasagna and a simple loan of $40,000 ... auoughhh....

[mercless]

🗡 mad cowboy disease....

[insufferablemod]

do you have any tips for like... paneling? your lil comics, if i could call them that(?) with Dave are well made (to me at least) and I'd like to get into making comics! or if you know any resources that helped you. :') - sincerely, a beginner.

sorry to be answering this so late, wanted to try and give some kinda proper advice haha so what i do is i just make my posts as long as possible so that it takes up like all of ppls dash, this means they are forced to look at it and engage with it! no ok but for real, first off this is just how i do things and by no means any sort of proper tutorial or anything, most of this is prob kinda basic and intuitive stuff, but its good to be reminded of the basics and to notice why you might be doing said things intuitively so you can start doing it intentionally so how i approach things is by picking a focus panel whats the Punchline/Emotional pay off for the page/comic? and then i try and build the rest around that for actual Comics not every page is gonna have one of those ofcourse and thats fine i tend to often have to many focus panels,,,, lmao(which is why my posts end up so long,,,,) i try to group similar panels and make them smaller, it saves space, makes it so the attention goes to the more unique panels and makes things feel more sequential(or u can do like me and have too many similar panels and think, what if i just make it an animation, its just a few extra frames right,,,?<- clueless(i have done this twice now,,, the second is still a wip,,, )) heres one of my posts deconstructed using all this, id do more of them but i dont wanna make this even longer asdsd, but i think its pretty obvious to pick up on once you know the formula lol

after that i think its mostly just clear composition and flow so things dont get confusing(like what panel(also applies to text) youre suppose to read next and such(thats easier with this cus its usually just individual panels and not full pages)) edit: oh and resources that helped me, i mostly just looked at other comics, paying attention to how the paneling was effecting the story and mood! some comics ive looked at for paneling inspo are houseki no kuni, how they play with contrast and stuff, idk theyre all just very striking, i looked at ajin at some point as well for help with some action stuff, most action shonen are also great for that 2 so yeah, just find a comic scene that has the same vibe that youre trying to get and see how they did it, finding a few and comparing and contrasting what you feel works best thats my thought process while doing stuff at least! i hope this helps at least a bit haha

[head---ache]

Dude I actually have SO many discarded fankid designs like Emmie has gone by three different friend groups and even for the current lineup there have been some forgotten kiddos you guys actually have no idea how many fankids I've designed NSKXBSKXBKX

[phagodyke]

looking up info on keloid scarring is so helpful. thanks man I didn't think of trying that one

[synthshenanigans]

there’s one on here currently and they’re bringing back up old controversy (jashshipping)

Yeaa I saw that. They also seem to post a bunch of CJ related things, so I might make the daily photos one since there isn't one for just CJ screenshots/photos

[minarcana]