#lemon-drop-soup

[mamawasatesttube]

What about 8 and 23 for Tim Drake?? I’d love to hear your answer!

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

LMAOOO short answer: everything?

fanon tim is so far from actual tim that it's laughable. literally 0 for all characteristics past "name" and "appearance" and even appearance only vaguely, because fanon tim could never actually look like a guy who has been running rooftops several nights a week and working out a lot in strenuous martial arts since he was 14.

like. they strip him of his hubris. his sense of humor. his confidence. his friendliness. his annoying baby brother tendencies. his complex relationship with his parents and his identity. his FRIENDS!!!! his moral code. his deep sense of caring. hell even his fixation on dick grayson. theres NOTHING in common here. real tim is an autistic little freak of a city boy who would be bewildered by someone striking up conversation in line at the grocery store in smallville, but would happily chatter back, albeit at the risk of putting his foot in his mouth as he always is. fanon tim would like have a panic attack about a stranger talking to him and then run away and crouch on the floor between aisles clutching his head and weeping until Big Strong Jason Todd™ came to rescue him or something 💀 theres just nothing there. theres NOTHING to that guy. he is completely removed from tim drake.

ALSO WORTH MENTIONING THOUGH is when people insist tim is Always right (and often bash dick and get racist about damian in the process). and then insist that tim could beat any of core four in a fight. because the bats are sooooo capable of course. etc etc. it's kind of embarrassing. and also really annoying. its just so dismissive of all the other characters. hate this.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

two very strong contenders <3

CHARACTER ASK GAME!!! 💫

[heckyeahponyscans]

G1 My Little Pony comic #25 (1986), "Bubbles and the Mudpie Birds"

[ponestrips]

Sprinkles: "Dude. We didn't say you could bathe in our lake."

Lemon Drop: "Oh, I'm sorry! I just-"

Sprinkles: "You have five seconds to get out before I call my attack duck on you."

[tricerabeth]

I want soup. I want to have soup every day this week. I do not want to make the soup. Only eat. Thank you.

[aurora--sky]

10 potraw od RobinKLocksley | Polskie Tłumaczenie

Tłumaczenie 10 potraw od RobinKLocksley

Postanowiłam przetłumaczyć kilka potraw od tego twórcy. Planuję przetłumaczyć je wszystkie, ale zobaczymy 😅

Nie lubię tłumaczyć tak krótkich modów, ale tak zbiorowo jest o wiele wygodniej.

🍲 Miso Soup - To zupa miso, tradycyjna japońska zupa, która może składać się z wielu różnych składników, ale najważniejsze są bulion dashi i pasta miso. Ta wersja wykorzystuje wegetariański bulion dashi i jest wypełniona tofu, aby wszyscy twoi wegetariańscy Simowie mogli się nią cieszyć.

🍗 Chicken Katsu Curry - To kurczak katsu, japońskie danie curry (czasami znane jako kurczak panko lub tori katsu). Danie składa się ze smażonego kurczaka panierowanego w bułce tartej panko, podawanego tutaj ze smażonymi warzywami z cudownym sosem tonkatsu (zrobionym ze smacznych pomidorów, soku z cytryny, marchewki, cebuli, suszonych śliwek, daktyli i selera).

🍛 Thai Green Curry - To tajskie zielone curry, danie pochodzące z Tajlandii. Główne składniki składają się zwykle z zielonych papryczek chili, ziaren białego pieprzu, szalotki, czosnku, galangi, trawy cytrynowej, skórki papedy, kolendry, kminku, mleka kokosowego, pasty z zielonego curry i cukru palmowego. Ta wersja jest zrobiona bez pasty rybnej, aby Twoi wegetariańscy Simowie mogli się nią cieszyć!

🍚 Vangi Bath - To południowoindyjska potrawa, która prawdopodobnie pochodzi z regionu Karnataka. Jest zrobiona z proszku masala i miąższu tamaryndowca zmieszanego z bakłażanem i czasami innymi warzywami, zmieszanymi z ryżem.

🍝 Linguine al Pesto - Tutaj mamy linguine, klasyczny włoski sos. Oryginalnie stworzone w Genui pesto jest wytwarzane z połączenia oliwy z oliwek, czosnku, orzeszków piniowych, soli, bazylii i sera, a wszystko to zmieszane z oliwą z oliwek. Ta konkretna wersja dodaje odrobinę pietruszki. Doskonałe danie, które zasmakuje każdemu.

🧄🌶️ Spaghetti With Garlic, Oil and Chilli - To danie jest świetne, gdy Twoi Simowie chcą po prostu opróżnić lodówkę i nie mają zbyt wiele do gotowania. Dokładnie to, co jest napisane w tytule: spaghetti, czosnek i olej. Pochodzące z Neapolu „Spaghetti Aglio, Olio e Peperoncino” to tradycyjne danie z makaronu w okolicy. To proste, ale gdy zrobione z wprawą, bardzo smaczne.

🍮 Lemon & Ginger Crème Brûlée - Crème Brûlée (czyli palona śmietana) to deser na bazie budyniu. Jest podobny do crema catalana i creme caramel, ale z kontrastującą twardą warstwą utwardzonego cukru dodaną na wierzchu, nadając potrawie niemal twardą skorupę. Tutaj jest aromatyzowany cytryną i imbirem.

🍪 Pumpkin & Spice Cookies - Ciasteczka z dynią i przyprawami to kruche ciastka zrobione z ciepłych jesiennych przypraw (gałki muszkatołowej, imbiru, goździków, cynamonu i ziela angielskiego) oraz z puree z dyni, aby stworzyć bogatą, lepką i smaczną sezonową przekąskę, idealną na początek jesieni.

🥮 Pumpkin Spice Macarons - Makaroniki to słodki przysmak na bazie bezy z Włoch i Francji, dostępny w wielu smakach i rozmiarach, te są aromatyzowane mieszanką przypraw dyniowych, podawane z małymi ozdobnymi dyniami.

🥚 Egg Drop Soup - Chińska zupa z jajkiem to zupa z delikatnych ubitych jaj gotowanych w bulionie z kurczaka. Rzeczy takie jak tofu, szalotki, sól i pieprz są często dodawane do zupy, aby nadać jej dodatkowy smak. To krzepiące danie dla bardziej mięsożernych Simów, którym mogą się cieszyć, gdy nie czują się najlepiej.

Tłumaczenie trzeba włożyć do folderu z modem

Bez moda tłumaczenie nie zadziała

Przepisy wymagają moda Robin's Food Enabler

Tłumaczenie do Vangi Bath pasuje do obydwu wersji moda

POBIERANIE:

Miso Soup

SFS | 13.4.23

Chicken Katsu Curry

SFS | 13.4.23

Thai Green Curry

SFS | 13.4.23

Vangi Bath

SFS | 13.4.23

Linguine al Pesto

SFS | 13.4.23

Spaghetti With Garlic, Oil and Chilli

SFS | 13.4.23

Lemon & Ginger Crème Brûlée

SFS | 13.4.23

Pumpkin & Spice Cookies

SFS | 13.4.23

Pumpkin Spice Macarons

SFS | 13.4.23

Egg Drop Soup

SFS | 13.4.23

TOU | FAQ | BUY ME A COFFEE

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

sorry i disappeared lately, i'm sick OTL

i has lemon soup tho so i can eat

[cringe--is--dead]

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔻𝕠 𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕊𝕚𝕔𝕜

Incl. Umemiya, Hiragi, Tsubakino, Choji, Togame

Umemiya

Having grown up in a group home, Umemiya knows how to be the best care giver ever

That being said: he’s also insanely clingy and affectionate on his worst days

He’s attentive to a T

With Kotoha’s help he’s bringing you homemade soup, full of fresh veggies from his garden

He’s making you tea and keeping water bottles near by whenever you even mention wanting a drink

Sends his four kings out to watch over while he’s with you because he refuses to leave your side until your healthy— doesn’t matter if it’s a cold or the flu

Still cuddles with you, despite you telling him he’ll get sick— he tells you his love and affection will make you feel better

Whenever your fever spikes he’s quickly getting a wet cloth, laying it on your forehead and humming a wordless tune or telling you stories softly

He’s there to wake you up whenever you have fever induced nightmares, and holds your hair back if you rush to the bathroom to be sick

If you even feel the tiniest bit insecure because you feel gross and greasy he shuts that down: by telling you:

“In sickness and in health!” “That’s— those are wedding vows?” “Ha, yeah! But think of them as…pre-engagement, pre-wedding vows now! Hey— your face is all red, did your fever spike again?”

If you’re far enough into your relationship he’ll help you bathe: his hands are gentle as he washes your hair, no wandering touches as he helps you clean your body

He’s so soft you nearly fall asleep in the water, lulled into a serene peace by his soft voice and gentle touches

He combs your hair once it’s dry enough, braiding it to keep it out of your face and wrapping you your freshly washed sheets you have no idea when he had time to clean

Overall; 11/10 to take care of you when you’re sick

Even if he does end up getting sick himself after

Hiragi

You probably got sick after he warned you to bring your coat with you or not to stay up too late let’s be real

Dad sighs and twitching eyes

But he’s buying all the best meds and electrolyte drinks

I personally believe this man knows how to cook so he’s making you homemade soup, congee and other things his mom used to make him when he was sick

Brings a type of lemon “candy” that helps with your throat, knows they work because he keeps them on him in case Kaji needs them

He stays with you, but he gives you space

1. Because he needs to make sure he doesn’t get sick— he has to take care of you firstly, and secondly he cannot let Umemeiya free of him for too long

2. Because he knows you’ll want space occasionally; to sleep, to rest, to regenerate your social battery

While you nap he’s cleaning around; washing and folding clothes, doing dishes, organizing your mail— he’s completely husband material

When you want him near he’ll have you lay your head on his lap, and he’ll run his fingers through your hair and read to you— literally any book you choose he’ll read without hesitation

He’ll be so attentive and supportive when you’re sick, and he makes sure to continue to give you vitamins even after to help you avoid being sick again

But even when you are he’ll be there again

15/10 he’s just so HUSBAND MATERIAL

Tsubakino

LOOK

if there’s one thing anyone knows about me it’s I am a Tsubaki stan first and a human second

that being said

I imagine him taking care of you being sick is, while sweet, also a bit panicky

I imagine he has this weirdly insane immune system so he’s hardly ever gotten sick, and he’s also an only child so this isn’t super familiar territory

but he tries

does so much research he might go a bit overboard

“My darling! I got cough medicine, fever reducers, cooling masks, some cough drops Hiragi suggested! I got some water bottles and Suo-chan suggested different teas— I wasn’t sure which one would be best so I got all six! Nirei-chan said to get electrolytes so I got different flavors of those! And Kotoha-chan made soup! And congee! And I can order more, in fact I have a few different soups on the way!”

he just hates seeing you feel so bad

he’s a ball of nerves around you, always checking in on you and asking what you want, what you need, what you’d like

you can’t even be annoyed he’s so sweet

he helps you bathe, much like Umemiya, he’s sweet and attentive

he brings over his own stuff too; bathbombs, shower steamers, hair masks, face masks

he can’t make the illness disappear but you’ll at least feel clean and good on the outside

he takes his time with your hair and face, and he’s basically your personal masseuse in the bath

you’re never felt so relaxed despite being as sick as a dog

even though you’re sick he’s still quick to press kisses to your cheeks and forehead, face red from fever, embarrassment, and lipstick stains now

paints your nails while you rest with a cold press on your head, tells you about the latest debacle between Umemeiya and Hiragi and Sugishita and Sakura

by a miracle he doesn’t get sick

and he stores all the leftover meds and electrolytes (there’s a lot) between your place and his so he’s prepared next time

overall: 1000000/10

realistically: 10/10 (but always 100000/10 in my eyes)

Choji

oh boy

o h b o y

let it be known you try to hide the fact you’re sick from him for as long as possible

read: you fail

he’s showing up at like 7am, waking you up and charging in

did he bring anything?

of course

he’s brought snacks

not healthy ones

you’re not hungry because you’re nauseous, so he just stores them in your fridge and comes to cuddle you

he’ll wait on your every command don’t get me wrong

want water? he’s grabbing you a glass

need to go to the bathroom? he’s helping you up and walking you there, waiting outside the door and helping you back

bored? he’ll tell you all the thoughts in his head! and there’s a lot!

hungry? he’s grabbing those snacks for you!

he’s attentive and sweet, but he definitely is spoiled by Togame so much he’s not entirely sure how to take care of a sick person

but he’s strong so he’ll just beat your illness for you!

he’ll hold you while you rest, turn your fan on when you say you’re hot, turn it off when you’re cold

he tries to braid your hair while you rest, it’s messy but he tried

he ends up getting sick before you’re even better yourself

now Togame is tasked with coming to your place and taking care of both of you

overall: 7/10

he tries he really does

but he charges in with no instructions and just love

which is great but doesn’t treat the flu

Togame

he probably has taken care of an ill choji (^) so he knows what he’s doing

the patience of a saint holy—

he comes to see you when you’re asleep, and he’s silent as he unpacks stuff from the nearby convention store

you wake up startled at him just chilling, probably drinking a ramune and reading something

he keeps his voice soft as he asks if you’re hungry or thirsty

helps you sit up as he hands you a water bottle, and if your hands are too shaky he’d holding it for you to drink out of

he won’t even let you open your mouth to apologize before he’s giving you that stupidly soft smile and telling you he’s happy to take care of you

he keeps the curtains shut so the light in your room is dim, and he brings in candles with your favorite scent so the lights don’t hurt your eyes and the scent helps you feel calmer

not much of a cook himself when it comes to specific food to help you, but he grabbed take out on the way and heats up the perfect portions whenever you’re hungry

not too much so you leave food on the plate but not too little so you’re still hungry after

the man that he is

can definitely see him massaging your hands, your arms and your shoulders cause you’re tense from feeling ill

keeps a bucket or a bag nearby in case you get sick and can’t make it to the toilet

does a little braid to keep your hair out of your face, jokes about how he learned how to braid his hair so he’d he perfect at it for you

tries to brew you tea, and either burns it or under-steeps it

you both opt for just water for the time being

doesn’t get sick, but definitely sleeps for an entire day after you’re healthy

you both do actually— a long sleep cuddled up together

overall; 13/15 i think i made myself fall more in love with him

[kaleldobrev]

Just Right

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Summary: Dean hates when you’re sick. Not only can he not kiss his best girl without the possibility of getting sick himself. But you also can’t make one of his favorite things to start off his day: his morning coffee.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Cursing (2x)

Author's Note: Apologies for not tagging people | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

As much as you hated being sick, you knew that Dean hated when you were just as much, maybe a bit more. Whenever either of you were sick – which wasn’t often thankfully – you two had your own sick routine, a routine that Dean despised doing, but understood the reasoning behind it.

When you had found yourself sick, you would sequester yourself into another bedroom of the Bunker and curl up in your favorite blankets while wearing your designated sick pajamas. Your sick pajamas as you called them consisted of some of your favorite things that always tended to bring you comfort: a pair of Dean’s gray sweatpants, one of his band t-shirts that you borrowed with the promise of returning it but never did, one of Dean’s flannels, and a pair of fuzzy socks.

Over the course of your sick time, you had found yourself doing an assortment of different things: trying to find something to watch on Netflix that you and Dean weren’t currently watching together, attempting to read one of your favorite books, or just straight sleeping. Dean would either text or call you, sometimes even knocking on the door and talking through the door to you. If he was feeling extra cheesy, he would slip you a note underneath the door. He would always ask you the same question: Do you need anything? Your answer would always be the same, “My usual sick meal.” A meal that consisted of a hot cup of tea with lemon and honey, Dean’s version of chicken noodle soup, Ritz crackers, and a ginger ale. Whenever he made this meal for you, you would always tell him to leave the tray outside the door so you wouldn’t get him sick, but without fail, each and every time, he would come into the room with tray in hand, and either kiss you on the top of the head and forehead and say, “My gorgeous sick baby,” before you rolled your eyes and threatened to throw a pillow at him.

When Dean had found himself sick, you would still be the one to leave the bedroom – despite your beloved boyfriend being the one trying to get you to stay with him, because all he really wanted to do was cuddle with you; he was extra clingy sick. But you had to play bad guy, telling him that as much as you had wanted to cuddle with him more than anything, you didn’t want to get sick.

You would tell Dean that he needed to try his best to stay sequestered in his room as to not get you or Sam sick – Jack and Cas were the ones that you didn’t have to worry about thankfully; but without fail, Dean would always leave the bedroom, walking around the Bunker coughing and sneezing. You would be close behind him, with a couple rolls of disinfected wipes the moment he left the room, your shirt covering your mouth and nose as to not inhale the germs.

You would do the same thing that Dean would do for you, calling, texting, or slipping a note underneath the door asking him if he needed anything from you. Your usual answer would be your sickness meal, his usual answer would be: “I wanna cuddle with my Sweetheart.” When you would reject that, he would ask for the second best thing: “My usual sick meal.” A meal that consisted of a not one, but two grilled cheese sandwiches, a side of tomato soup with saltines on the side, a can of ginger ale and a tiny glass of whiskey. Although you would tell Dean not to come into the room when you were sick to drop the food off, you never listened to your own advice. You always walked into the room with the tray of food and promptly kissed him on the forehead or cheek and say, “My handsome sick boy.” Followed by him smacking your ass as you walked away.

Although Dean and you hated when either of you were sick because you couldn’t be intimate with each other, one of the biggest reasons Dean hated when you were sick in particular is because you couldn’t make him his morning coffee. Yes, Dean was more than capable of making his own coffee in the morning, or he could easily go to the café downtown to grab a cup; but ever since you moved into the Bunker, those two things just never tasted right again to him. Because once having a taste of the way you had made it, he couldn’t have it any other way.

It was one of those rare times in which you were sick, and you knew exactly how you had gotten sick too. About a few days ago, you, Sam, and Dean went on a case together in Topeka where each of you interviewed a different member of the family. Sam and Dean interviewed the parents while you interviewed their child – a child who happened to be insanely sick. While interviewing the child, she kept on sneezing and coughing and at one point had wiped her snot coated hand on your arm when trying to reach for the tissues behind you. As soon as the three of you had gotten to the Bunker, you knew that something wasn’t right, as you were starting to exhibit the same symptoms as the little girl was.

You were sequestered in your designated sick room, wearing your designated sick pajamas, completely under the covers; a combination of being hot and cold at the same time. Your phone was propped up on a pillow that was lying next to you; Dean was on Facetime with you in your shared bedroom. “I think this is the worst I’ve ever felt.” You said, your voice sounded super nasally, and weak.

“Well, you still look and sound hot to me.” Dean told you, a grin on his lips. You couldn’t help but shake your head at his comment, disagreeing with him. “What? I don’t give a rats ass if your nose is running like a faucet and you look like Rudolf. You’re still fucking hot to me.”

“Dean, I look like I haven’t slept in days and on the verge of death and I sound like a toddler. I honestly have no idea how any of this is remotely hot to you.” You sniffled, grabbing a tissue from next to you in bed and blowing into it.

“To be fair Sweetheart, I always look like I’m on the verge of death and you still think I’m hot.” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Dean, you manage to look hot no matter what you do. It’s an oddly weird talent that you have.” You sniffled again, tossing the tissue you just used into the trash can.

He shrugged his shoulders again, almost as if he was agreeing with you. “Do you need anything from the kitchen? I’m about to go make my own coffee cause somebody can’t do it.”

You rolled your eyes and coughed. “Well, I’m sorry that your barista is sick. She can always make it for you, but I can’t promise that there won’t be hints of mucus in it.”

Dean gave you a disgusted look, shivering at the thought of your comment. “Okay, okay. Please, don’t ruin coffee for me. Coffee is one of the few joys that I have in this life.”

Dean walked into the kitchen, and gave Sam a slight head nod in his direction who was already sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee and his laptop. “There’s still some coffee in the pot if you want any.” Sam said, turning in his chair to face Dean who had started to make his way to the fridge. “I know it’s not how Y/N usually makes it but, I know you like the way I make it too.”

“Correction, I used to like the way you made it.” Opening the fridge Dean grabbed some milk and chocolate syrup and placed them on the counter in front of him. “Do you know how Y/N makes it? Cause she won’t tell me. And I feel like if anyone would know, it would be you.”

Sam gave Dean a questioning look. “Me? Why would Y/N tell me how she makes it?”

“Cause you’re her best friend. She tells you everything.” Dean knew for a fact that you had told Sam a lot; because more often than not, Sam would casually bring up something that Dean knew for a fact that him and you had talked about, and there would be no possible way for him to know that unless you were the one that told him.

“But you’re her boyfriend Dean. I feel like boyfriend trumps best friend in most cases.” Sam took a sip from his mug before closing his laptop and walked over to the counter, bringing his mug along with him.

“You know what they say Sammy, bros before well…hoes.” Dean gave Sam a grin, shrugging slightly.

“I think you might have insulted yourself with that one.” Sam said, finishing up his coffee. “So you really have no idea how she makes it uh?”

Dean shook his head. “No freaking clue. All I know is she puts milk and chocolate syrup in it.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret Dean.” Sam began to say.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I…She told me to never tell you how she makes the coffee, but…she did tell me.” Sam finally confessed.

“Well? Would you like to share with the rest of the class?”

Sam grinned and walked over to the cabinet. He reached all the way into the back and took out a box of Keurig cups and placed the box onto the counter. Dean eyed the box for a moment before picking it up. “Dunkin’ Donuts?” Dean asked, sounding slightly confused.”

“Her special coffee she makes you? It’s just Dunkin’ Donuts Keurig cups with a dash of milk and a spoonful of Hershey’s chocolate syrup.”

“Son of a bitch…” Dean mumbled.

A Few Days Later…

With your sickness behind you, you were finally back to your old self; which meant that you can about your somewhat normal routine. You were excited to be able to hunt again, and you were excited to finally fall asleep to and wake up next to your beloved boyfriend. But despite the normalcy that you were excited to get back to, you knew that there was one thing that Dean was excited about – you being able to make his morning coffee again.

Quickly throwing the Dunkin’ Donuts Kuerig cup into the trash, you took Dean’s coffee cup and placed it onto the island counter in front of you; smiling as he walked in. “Morning Sicky,” Dean grinned, and you simply rolled your eyes.

Walking up to the counter, he looked at the mug and gestured toward it. “Is that?” And you nodded. He rubbed his hands together like an excited little kid before he took the mug from the counter, slowly blowing the contents to cool it down a bit. Taking a sip, he felt like he was in Heaven – not actual Heaven of course cause there were no dick angels around, but pretty close.

“Good?” You asked, and Dean nodded. As much as he wanted to tell you that he knew the secret to your coffee, he was never going to; because this was one secret that you deserved to have for yourself, even if Sam and Dean both knew.

[ashtheketchum]

●Tied to bed●

Daryl Dixon X FEM.Reader

Era: Seaso 2, Farm

Summary: Daryl was injured in bed and you wanted revenge for his rude behavior. So why not take advantage of his injury a little?

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEM.Reader, riding, handjob, injured Daryl, grumpy but soft Daryl, unprotected sex, blood and gore

A/N: Sooo, I´ve read THIS beautiful and short masterpiece and it kind of inspired me. I hope that is was okay to write a lemon with this inspiration :3

Words: 3k

Masterlist!

_____________________________

PoV (Y/N):

Every day could be our last. I was lucky to have found a strong group and even if I hadn't, I still would be very lucky. I was traveling with Merle and Daryl until we met the group. In fact, it was a huge exception that I was traveling with the two Dixon brothers because I was in a relationship with Daryl. We met in a bar and ended up getting together. Did I regret it? Never. I loved Daryl with all my heart and he loved me, if not more than I loved him. If that was even possible.

Unfortunately, it was not uncommon for Daryl to blindly throw himself into danger. He was stubborn, yes. But he wasn't stupid, he knew exactly what he was doing. And that was sometimes the mistake. Especially after Merle disappeared.

At the moment we were at Hershel's farm because Carl had been shot and Sophia had disappeared. Daryl had taken it upon himself to look for the little girl while we had other tasks. But not a day went by that I wasn't worried. Flesh-eating asses were running around outside and there could still be some crazy ass survivors.

And just when I was having a good day, something terrible happened. Rick and the others thought a walker was on its way to the farm, but when Andrea shot him, I heard Rick scream loudly. My eyes widened and I dropped the basket full of apples to the ground. I ran past the RV in the direction of Rick, Glenn and T-Dog. When I saw that Andrea had shot Daryl, I screamed loudly and started to cry. "Daryl! Oh god, is he okay!?" I screamed to Rick as I stopped in front of them. I immediately put my hands on Daryl's cheeks, tears running down my own. He had blood and dirt all over his body and a wound on his temple. Luckily, Andrea had only just missed him.

"He's okay… we just need to bring him to Hershel!" Rick said and they walked past me. Sobbing, I followed them, and when Andrea ran towards us, I simply pushed her away, saying: "Stay away from us…!"

In the house, Hershel was tending to Daryl's wounds; he had barely survived. While I was stroking his head, Hershel, Rick and Shane left the room to give us some rest. He was still unconscious, but he was breathing calmly and leaning weakly into my touch. It was hard for me to leave the house for the night, but I trusted Hershel to take good care of Daryl as soon as he woke up. Apparently, Daryl slept the entire night, unlike me.

For the next few days, Daryl was still tied to the bed. He was now lying awake in bed, but he still couldn't move very well. So sometimes I brought him food and sometimes washed him. "I can do tha´ by ma own, woman!" "Daryl, stop it! You can't even move your arm up and down!" We had often snapped at each other, probably Daryl just didn't like me seeing him like that. In our relationship, he took care of me most of the time, not the other way around.

Daryl was getting on my nerves with his behavior, so I came up with a plan to get back at him. Daryl loved being in control during sex. But now that Daryl was badly injured, he couldn't have that control anymore. So I came up with some plans on how to best get him to fuck me. And then the day came.

Hershel gave me some soup and bread to take to Daryl. Of course I did this, as a good partner and also for my revenge plan. When I got to his door, I knocked first and then slowly opened the door. I carefully stepped in, only to see Daryl lying on his side, his back turned to me. "Ya here?" I heard him ask quietly as I entered his room and closed the door behind me. "Of course… you need to eat." When I answered, he just snorted quietly and then turned to me. At least he could move much better than a few days ago. This calmed me down and gave me the reassurance that he would survive a little "ride" well. So with a gentle smile I put his food on the bedside table and sat down next to him on the bed. "You know… because of those fights we had…" I started slowly, my hand gently stroking his short hair.

Daryl then closed his eyes and leaned a little more into my touch. We both always knew that we never meant the things we said to each other when we were angry. It took a long time, but eventually we got used to the fact that we shouldn't take everything seriously in an argument. "'m sorry… yeah, yeah… I know…" He just mumbled quietly to himself. His answer made me smile amusedly and I hummed quietly. Then I leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "Yeah… I'm also very sorry… and I have a surprise for you…" I whispered quietly before I stood up and adjusted my hair.

Now the archer looked at me confused, following me with his blue, intense eyes. His intense gaze made me a little nervous, but I bit my tongue hard as I closed the curtains. Now I couldn't back away. "But you have to tell me when I should stop, okay?" When I asked him this, Daryl tried to sit up, but I immediately pushed him back down. I let out a quiet "Shhh." before I started to undress. Within a minute I was standing naked in front of the archer, throwing my clothes onto the floor behind me. Daryl's eyes looked me up and down and he swallowed hard. I could already see a clear erection under the blanket. "Whatcha doin'?" He finally managed to say as he moved back and forth a little.

"What does it look like?" I then asked him the question and slowly walked towards him. As seductively as I could, I tried to crawl over him. I spreaded out gentle kisses on the way up until I reached his neck. Daryl immediately swallowed and breathed loudly and heavily, clearly overwhelmed by my sudden actions. "Y-ya shouldn'… the old man an´-!" "Shhh, Daryl~… it´s only us now… trust me." I looked up at my lover with big, pleading eyes and he just let out a heavy sigh. But then he nodded and kissed my forehead gently. "Okay…" He then said. Puppy eyes always work on him.

With a wide grin, I pressed my lips against his and I engaged the archer in a hot kiss. Our tongues danced wildly together while my hands slowly pulled the blanket off his body. When it was now on his thighs, I broke away from our kiss, a light thread of saliva still connecting us until it broke.

God, the kiss alone was enough to make me wet. We were definitely going through withdrawal, at least I was.

"Can I continue?" I asked again to be sure. Daryl just growled in frustration and moved his hips very slightly closer to me. His erection kept twitching slightly between his legs. "Goddamn, woman! Jus´ do it!" He growled impatiently. When he answered, I just grinned broadly and then took off his pants. Luckily he only wore sweatpants in bed, so I could undress him very easily. After his sweatpants, I took off his boxer shorts and his big cock jumped out at me.

"Well, hello there~…" "Jus' stop talkin'…! Damnit!" A slightly louder moan escaped Daryl as I wrapped my fingers around his thick cock and moved my hand up and down. Sometimes I squeezed him a little, which only made the archer moan loudly. I could see a few drops of pre-cum on his tip, which I spread with my thumb. I could already feel Daryl pulsing under my grip. "S-stop~…! G-god, 'm gonna cum~!" He suddenly moaned and tried to push my hand away. But he was too weak. Or too wounded.

This dominance, I had, was new to me and I liked it incredibly much. I had never had any sexual experience before Daryl and when I had sex with Daryl, he was always the dominant one. We didn't fuck often, but when we did, it was always the way he liked it most. Not that I didn't enjoy it too, God I adored sex with Daryl. How he pulled my ass up, slapped it, fucked me hard from behind and pressed my head into the pillow. The thought alone turned me on. But sometimes I just wanted to be the more dominant one. To have him under me, to watch him look up at me or twist his face in lust. His rough hands gripping my hips tightly. And today the day had really come. Maybe not the way I had imagined, but it was here.

So I slowly let go of his cock, but still leaned forward to give the tip a gentle kiss. Then I slowly climbed onto his lap and let his shaft slide between my wet folds. But I didn't apply too much pressure, otherwise he would really cum. Daryl only very lightly let his hands stroke my skin, first my thighs, then my hips and finally my breasts. A tits guy just like in a good book. "Can we continue?" I asked quietly and gently. Daryl took a few more deep breaths before nodding. My okay to finally be able to ride him.

"Okay…" And with these words I lifted my hips, positioned him at my entrance and then slowly let myself fall. Loud moans and whimpers escaped me while Daryl breathed loudly and deeply and bit his lower lip hard. His cock twitched strongly inside me, my hands, which I placed on his chest, could feel his rapid heartbeat. My legs were shaking like crazy and my breathing was also very fast. When I got used to the feeling of fullness again, I lifted my pelvis, only to let it fall again. A soft slapping sound was created, which repeated over and over again as I began to move faster. Daryl growled softly and grabbed my waist tightly to hold me still and thrust up to me, but he immediately stopped himself. The wound on his side still seemed to be causing him too much trouble. We stopped immediately and I stroked his cheek gently.

"Everything okay?" "Yah… j-jus' this fuckin´-!" "Stop moving." I interrupted him immediately, which only made him look up confused and a little annoyed. A gentle smile played on my lips as I sat completely on him again and circled my hips a little. He immediately exhaled loudly and closed his eyes briefly. "I know how much you love it to fuck me rough… but let me take control for once, okay?" I looked at Daryl with big, pleading eyes, but I didn't stop my movements. The archer let out a quiet sigh before nodding and loosening his grip. "Alrigh'… jus' move already…~" He then growled quietly. With a gentle smile, I nodded, sat up again and slowly started to move up and down.

We both moaned and sighed quietly as my pelvis repeatedly collided with your thighs. Loud, rhythmic clapping rang out from my movements and I let my head fall back and my eyes closed. Groaning, I scratched his chest slightly. Daryl, beneath me, stared at my bouncing breasts. His eyes were dark and hungry before he slowly reached out to grab a breast. He massaged it roughly, sometimes pinching my nipple or gently pulling on it. Every time he did this, I straightened my back more and thus pressed my breasts even more towards him. By straightening my back, his cock also pushed forward a little so that you could see a slight bulge in my abdomen. I hadn't really noticed it, I was just concentrating on keeping the rhythm. But when Daryl suddenly pressed against that bulge, my eyes widened and I looked down. As he pressed his hand against my bulge, a sudden shiver ran through me, my abdomen felt like it was about to explode. "Oh god, Daryl~…!" "Fuck~…! Baby~!"

Now Daryl massaged both of my breasts with both hands. Again and again he let his rough thumbs slide over my hard nipples and each time this made me gasp or whimper. His rough hands had always caused a pleasant tingling sensation in me, especially when Daryl touched me. Be it just my hand, my cheek or even my leg, it always made my insides tingle and I couldn't hold back the thoughts.

As I rode Daryl faster and faster, I leaned forward a little so that his shaft rubbed against my clit. This made me moan a little louder for some seconfs before I remained quiet for a short while. Daryl immediately looked at me worried and impatient, but when my inner walls pulsed slightly and tightened even more around his cock, he hummed softly. "Ya close?" "Y-yeah, just wait a moment…" And with these words I leaned down to press my lips against his. A hot kiss ensued in which our tongues danced together and explored each other's mouths. But suddenly Daryl grabbed my waist tightly again and suddenly thrust into me from below.

My eyes widened and I clung to his broad shoulders. Louder moans, sometimes even screams, escaped me, while Daryl just growled and grunted quietly. Sometimes his face twisted in pain, but then it turned back to pleasure. The pleasure was too much for him to feel the pain. It turned me on and got me going at the same time. But since he was just about to fuck me stupid, I just rolled my eyes and let myself fall onto his chest. I lay on top of him like a moaning wreck, the only thing I felt was pleasure. His grip on my waist also got tighter and tighter, I would definitely have marks on them tomorrow. But did I care? Not for a second. "Daryl, fuck~! You fuck me so good~!" I moaned loudly against his ear.

I could feel the archer inside me twitch when he heard my words. And somehow he increased his pace so that he briefly made me choke on my own breath. I remained completely still for just a few seconds before another scream left me. My eyes rolled back more and more, so that it almost hurt. "Oh please~! Daryl, fuck~!" "Please wha´? Ha?" His rough, deep voice sent a shiver down my spine and made me whimper loudly. "P-lease, let me cum~!" I moaned loudly. It was not uncommon for him not to let me come shortly before I climaxed. But now that he was hurt, I hoped he would show some understanding. And I was lucky. "´m gonna let ya cum, baby~…! So hard~!"

His words made my insides contract even tighter and with his name on my lips I came around his cock. My whole body was shaking violently as Daryl continued to thrust into me. I lay limply on top of him, completely overstimulated by his constant thrusts into me. But Daryl was also twitching violently inside me and his growling was getting louder, sometimes he even moaned quietly. "'m gonna cum too~…! N-now~!" With a loud grunt he immediately pulled his pelvis back and squirted onto my stomach and breasts. A startled gasp escaped me at the sudden loss of his cock in my pussy, but a quiet sigh escaped me.

It didn't take long before I lay down next to him, on my back of course, so that nothing got on the bed. We lay next to each other, breathing heavily, and tried to calm ourselves down. Our heavy breathing was then interrupted by Daryl, who hissed and grabbed his side. "I've told you to hold still…" I mumbled quietly as I sat up and reached for a tissue. Daryl just stared at me angrily, but said nothing. He always did that when I was right. "Jus' shuddup!" He finally managed to say. But I ignored his words and wiped his cum off my stomach and chest. Then I stood up and put my clothes back on. "Why are you ignoring me now!?" "Shouldn't I shut up?" When I asked him in return, he just stared at me angrily again.

Then he grabbed the blanket and lay down on his side with his back facing me. I looked at him briefly, annoyed, before I sighed quietly and went to kiss his head. "I love you, grumpy…" Only a quiet grumble escaped him, so I quietly left his room again. Before I closed the door completely I heared him say: "Love ya too..."

Outside I saw Maggie leaning against the wall, a stern look on her pretty face. I looked at her confused, as if I hadn't just ridden my injured boyfriend, as if there would be no tomorrow. "What?" I asked after several seconds of silence. "You two should have waited until Daryl isn't in pain!" The young woman snapped at me, but I just snorted quietly. "Yeah, sure! Daryl is tough, he'll survive it! And even tho… you and Glenn fucked besides some hygiene products." And without waiting for her answer, I turned around and walked out of the house.

[sunnytobio]

the tagline of harrow the ninth: the necromancers are back and they’re gayer than ever!

the gay necromancer in question: lobotomized herself, violently throwing up, hallucinating, someone is literally trying to kill her, hasnt slept in 6 days, putting her own bone marrow in soup, hiding under her bed and sobbing, in love with a corpse, wanting a hallucination to kiss her, bleeding out of her ears, haunted by her lesbian situationship’s mother (in a sword), will literally not let go of said sword and sleeps next to it like a lover (actual quote from the book), watching 3 10,000 year olds fuck, watching a man who has tried to kill her 10+ times make out with a corpse (different one—not the one she’s in love with), thinks sugar water with a drop of lemon has too much flavor, was stabbed in the hand by another lesbian, hallucinating her past completely incorrectly in order to cope terribly, having several meet-cute hallucinations with her previously mentioned lesbian situationship (who is dead), and killing planets

[karlachismylife]

Thots on how they would react if you got sick?

(totally not self indulgent right now)

Oh no, my lovely spouse is sick :( Get well soon, lovie, and here are some little speedrun headcanons for you ahead of everything, as a treatment!! Beware, there are some NSFW parts under the cut :) So MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT I swear I get so upset every time I have to block some ageless blog. If it's so hard to put your age in the bio, just DO NOT TOUCH THE POST!! I'd rather keep you around to read my SFW pieces than block you altogether.

Okay sorry for yelling, here we go

CW: gn!sick!reader, reader is somewhat being stubborn about getting treatment at some points, sickness unspecified, but I wrote with something cold-adjacent in mind since we're in the cold season, a bit of controlling behavior from Ghost and Price.

Soap is Mister Indulgence. Any cravings you get, be it three kilograms of crisps for breakfast or his Mam's soup you suddenly want to taste at 2 am, he's getting his ass out of bed and runs to the store or puts on an apron to make the soup. You want some tea with sugar and lemon? How much teaspoons of sugar? What, you tried it and turned out you wanted a teaspoon less? No worries, he'll make it again. You wanna binge your favourite show? Listen to "your" song fifty times in a row? Cuddle and nap on his hot chest for eight hours? Whatever you want, bonnie, his Maw always said that good mood is the most important step in getting better, so Johnny would rather die than not keep you satisfied during sick time.

He might not be the most well-versed in medical stuff, but he definitely uses his Mam's knowledge (and she is one wise woman, I tell you) and whatever experience he has himself to get you both real treatment and some homemade remedies. Swears he doesn't get sick (ever, bonnie!) when you try to shoo him away worried he'll catch whatever you have.

Drops sick the very next day you finally are all good again (and behaves as if he's actually dying, even though he has like three times lighter symptoms than you cuz that man has an immune system of a beast).

Ghost is mean about it, cruel and ruthless. At least that's what you tell him when he wakes you up to make you drink some medicine or, even worse, change you out of your sweaty pjs, help you bathe and (this one is almost breakup-worthy betrayal) take you to a doctor. No amount of pleading, whining and pouting can deter him from making sure you're getting appropriate treatment.

Truth be told, he's probably blaming himself, because under his care you should've never gotten sick in the first place. This means he's probably checking your wardrobe and adding some warmer clothes and shoes (no more wearing old sneakers when it's already rain season!) to it, probably inspecting all the food you've eaten recently in case it was bad, proofing all the windows against drafts... and somehow he still finds time to be around you all the time, holding you in your fever-induced sleep, changing cold wet towels on your forehead and caring for you.

Might or might not catch the sickness from you, which reveals that he's an even worse patient than you, constantly grumpy, wrapped in three blankets and trying to put an indifferent face, but so, so pathetic when the fever gets actually high. He will be good if you promise to hold him in your lap and stroke his hair with cold fingers.

Gaz isn't as indulgent as Soap, but he gives you a lot of autonomy and trusts that you know best what treatment helps you. So if you say you don't feel like you need to call a doctor, he won't force you; he'll buy the medicine you tell him to buy, and if he thinks it's not the best choice, he'll just suggest an alternative, leaving the final decision up to you. Also has some homemade remedies ready to go if you're willing to try them, but leans heavily towards scientifically proven treatments.

He definitely tries to keep you if not active (no hikes or something, but maybe little walks around the apartment once the worst wave passes) then at least entertained, and not in "200 episodes of a dumb sitcom watched alone" way. Of course, if that's what you're feeling, get your sitcom fill, angel (he's not one to judge, he is keeping up with like a hundred series somehow), but if you're up to play some games, Kyle is more than happy to. Puzzles, card games, board games - maybe not so much computer games, since he wants you to be mindful of your eyes health, but a little bit? Sure. If you don't wanna play games, he still wants to keep you company so that you don't feel like you're missing out on life alone in your bed.

Probably the one who is the least likely to catch your sickness, because he ACTUALLY never gets sick, that pretty boy possesses some magic, I'm telling ya. Buf if he somehow does, he's the best patient who doesn't even need your help (but will accept it since he doesn't want you to feel guilty and it's just nice). For the three days that he's sick before he's healthier than ever.

Price is also very insistent on you getting proper treatment, but he doesn't go about it in Ghost's stern manner - no, he's a sly, smart dog, he's sweettalking you into thinking half of it is your own idea and he's just there to provide. If he needs to, he plays up his worried behavior and voila, you're already taking your medicine and days off from studies or work, simply because you don't want to worry your John's bleeding heart. Drops casually something like "good thing doc's office is on the way to the base, I can drop you off before finishing that bloody report they're wanting my head for and then pick you up, lovie" - and when you note that you actually don't feel like your sickness is doctor visit worthy, he sighs and tells you that he'll stay with you then. Of course now you have to agree, you can't let him get in trouble with the report simply because you didn't want to go to the doctor!

In all the other aspects he is absolutely doting and spoiling. Will casually look through fifteen stores until he finds the exact type of natural juice gummies you once mentioned your parents got you when you were sick. Absolutely no smoking around you or even in the apartment - and he also makes sure he doesn't smell too much of tobacco before coming into your room. Will baby you in whatever way you want (yes, he will read you your book aloud) or simply stay at your side to assist you with different things if you're not into that. But god forbid you try to get back to work or studying before John Price deems you recovered enough...

Probably catches the sickness, but pretends he didn't until it's too obvious to deny. Will do all the things he reprimanded you for: try to work, keep smoking, avoid doctor etc.

Hyena!141 bonus: they absolutely cuddle you in their hyena form and do not shift into humans when you need them to fetch something like a pillow or more paper tissues. They're your fluffy cuddle buddies that are there to grumble and purr for you soothingly, keep the chills away and lick your forehead, nape and wrists to cool the fever down. Shove their snouts in different places on your body to check the temperature (no thermometer needed!) and tickle you, give you paw massages if your muscles ache and suddenly get on their best behavior (yes, even Soap). Furry menaces who? Not them, they're the sweetest boys!

NSFW under the cut, once again, minors and ageless blogs DNI or I'll block you (and cry about it!)

CW: gn!reader, oral sex, fingering, brat tamer Ghost (so it's consensual in case I didn't make it clear enough), penetrative sex with Gaz (bottom!gn!reader).

Soap is also number one advocate of "sex is proper treatment", so if you're not feeling too bad and have some energy to spare, he'll gladly eat you out and unleash his oral fixation on you. As treatment, of course. Also maybe because you're so hot that you're practically burning his tongue and it feels as if he dipped his face into the sweetest, freshly-baked pie, when you squeeze his mug between your overheating thighs. He'll do more if that's what you want, but if all you want is to come on his face, he'll lick, suck and rub as much as you need - yes, he spilled in his sweatpants just from pleasuring you and grinding against the sheets, but can you really blame him for enjoying a warm meal a little too much? Will probably compare your "sick" taste to your "healthy" one. No, he does not know what the word "shame" means.

Ghost is reluctant to have sex when you're sick, because, well... you're sick, you shouldn't exhaust your body, because it needs all the strength to fight whatever it is you caught. But once you start getting better (and as a result much, much brattier, since now you have the energy to not just whine and pout, but also to be a little defiant shit), he is absolutely using his fingers to reward or punish you for complying or resisting the treatment. Are you being good, taking your medicine, measuring your body temperature and doing whatever else doctor told you to? Good, you deserve to cum on his fingers, lovie, just lean back and let him do all the work. What's that, you don't wanna drink your medicine, because it tastes bad, and you hid the thermometer? Well, love, he hopes you don't mind getting your temperature checked a little more old-fashioned way. And if you don't like your medicine, maybe having his fingers in your mouth, muffling all your protests, will change your mind. After all, that's what you wanted to achieve by being a brat, didn't you?

Gaz is already the king of gentle sex, but if you ask him to indulge you while you're sick, he'll be as tender as only molten marshmallow fluff can be. Caressing your feverish skin with his soft palms, making sure to avoid possibly hurting joints or muscles, going down on you with his sweet, honeyed mouth before even trying anything else. Can actually give you a perfect massage (even the normal kind) and add some lightweight petting and fingering to it. If you want to have penetrative sex though, he finds the best position (probably spooning, his arm cradling your head so it doesn't spin or hurt, and your body resting without any extreme stretches or strains) and takes you slowly and carefully. Doesn't let you worry about his orgasm at all, but if you feel like cockwarming him, he won't say no, that's for sure :) let him soak in some of that heat directly from you, angel, eh?

Price will probably need the most persuasion to engage with you sexually during your sick time, he is worrying about you too much, so the best you can get is probably his fingers and mouth closer to you already getting fully healthy again. He's just scared he'll go too rough on you regardless of how careful he's trying to be, lovie. But if he ends up catching you masturbating (and failing probably, since you're still too weak for such activities), he'll have no choice but to help you finish, careful tongue strokes and finger movements along with soft grumbling about him "leaving you just for five minutes, and you're already up to no good, love!" Don't let him fool you, he's the happiest man, because he both gets to pleasure his partner and because this means you're getting better.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

I can feel myself getting sick! And I hit my head super hard today and I’ve had a crazy headache ever since! So here’s the 141 taking care of their sick idiot s/o!

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He heard it the moment you spoke for the first time that day, you sounded congested and nasally

He made you some tea and heated up some soup, you laughed and asked about occasion

You knew you were getting sick but you’re a stubborn bitch so that means that you’re not sick and everything is fine

He knows you so he just shrugs and asks what’s wrong with soup for breakfast

He lets you go about the day, only stepping in when he sees you’re getting fatigued, discreetly suggesting you two lay down and watch a movie in bed

You’re getting the snacks ready when you drop the unopened bag of popcorn, as you’re straightening up you slammed your head on the granite countertop

It was so loud, Simon sprinted across the living room to make sure you were ok

He looked at your head and made sure you weren’t bleeding, when he didn’t see any surface damage he rushed to the freezer and pressed an ice pack on the back of your head

It was a little embarrassing and it took a lot to resist the urge to cry, he saw how much you were laughing to and playing it up and knew you felt worse than you let on

He guided you to bed, ice pack still pressed o your head, he ushered you under the covers, checking to make sure you weren’t concussed

Simon brewed a fresh cup of tea with a generous amount of honey and a light squeeze of lemon

He put on the movie and had a handful of throat lozenges in his pocket at the ready, fingers running through your hair, checking in on you and monitoring your symptoms

He blames himself for not interfering sooner but hearing your small cough and feeling you nuzzle into his chest made him feel needed, it was nice taking care of you, and a refreshing new way of being relied on

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

You kinda have to tell him if you’re feeling unwell

Not to say he doesn’t notice it when he sees you a little more fatigued and glassy eyed than usual

But as soon as you tell him you’re throat’s hurting, he’s up and making you some tea, while it’s brewing, he’s getting some cold medicine together and queuing your favorite movie

While he’s doing that he hears a loud ‘thunk’ and immediately runs over to check on you, he sees the cabinet door open and he sees you bent over and cradling your head

He can’t help the chuckle that comes out but he immediately shuts his mouth the moment he catches your glare

He fishes in the freezer for the ice pack and presses it against your head, he sends you to lay down on the couch but he catches you wobbling as you’re walking

He was at your side in a second, he hurried back to the kitchen and got some water for you

He sat beside you and rubbed your back, careful of his volume and careful not to move you too much

Needless to say, you didn’t lift a finger the rest of the day

John Price:

Like Ghost, he heard it in your voice when you first said ‘good morning’

Except he was more adamant on catching it sooner rather than later, he made you some Theraflu and didn’t move an inch until you finished it

If he heard you cough throughout the day, he’d magically appear with a cough drop ready for you to eat

Your water bottle doesn’t have a chance to be empty, same thing with your tea cup, it always managed to stay filled

You were loading up the laundry machine when you smacked your head hard against the rim, it was so loud John was at your side in a heartbeat

He cradled your head and checked your scalp for a cut or any blood, when he didn’t see any he gently applied pressure and walked you both to the kitchen where he grabbed the ice pack

He guided you to the bedroom where he instructed you to sit on the bed, he noticed your walking was a little uneven and all his training came to him in a split second

He walked you to the bed and knelt down in front of you, asked you to follow his fingers, took out his phone and turned on his flashlight, checking your pupils and asking you to follow it

He held the ice pack firmly against your head and ran down the list of symptoms, asking you and making sure you were ok

He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the day unfortunately for your partially loaded laundry

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

You told him that morning that you were feeling congested and he went to pharmacy as soon as you mentioned it

When he came back, he saw you doubled over and clutching your head, he sets the bags down and hurried to your side

“Sweetheart, what happened?” He asked, you explained that you dropped your phone under the table and didn’t realize how close you were to it when you hit your head on the edge

“Babe if you missed me that much, you could’ve called, I would’ve come back sooner.” He teased, you punched him in the arm as hard as you could,

When your punch was lighter than usual, he got worried and had you sit down on the couch

He handed you the bag full of snacks and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade for you to slowly drink

While you were doing that he went to the kitchen to grab an ice pack and wrap a towel around it

He sat beside you and handed it to you to press to the area, in the meantime he opened a package of cough lozenges and handed you one

He got up and started making your favorite ramen flavor and brewing a cup of lemon ginger tea with a generous helping of honey

He sat beside you and held the ice pack against your head while you ate, he turned the tv on to your favorite show and kissed your head and your cheek

He made sure all your needs were tended to for the day and spoiled you rotten

[heckyeahponyscans]

G1 My Little Pony comic #24, My Little Pony Club Page

[fatesundress]

⭑ made with love. draco malfoy x reader

summary. it's winter, you’re sick, and draco is extremely rational a terrible, doting mess about it.

tags. fluff! so much fluff! married couple, gn!reader, lots of banter, post-hogwarts with one fleeting mention of the war, draco's anxiety is whetted by a common cold, he basically treats the reader like they hung the moon in the sky and also have the power to yank it down at any given moment. he's very grumpy. but so so in love.

note. my sweet anons!! i tried on three separate occasions to write the requests in my inbox but sometimes i need to be in the depths of hell (ovulation week) to manage smut. i'm sorry. i've made some progress i swear! but the draco hyperfixation came out of NOWHERE and unfortunately i had to indulge in it. also thank you so much for 200! :’)

word count. 1.6k

You are deplorable.

With a fever temperature of 40° and explicit instructions to stay in bed, you’re discernibly not in bed when he makes it home from the apothecary, a jumbled mess of the blankets he’d swathed you in left in your place. Your slippers are absent. Your slippers — in two feet of snow. Your coat is gone too, at least; ridiculously thick and unnecessarily long, though now he’s thankful for it.

Draco paces. Then he sets the Pepperup Elixir over a flame at his desk to keep warm, pours two drops of Sleeping Draught into a mug for your tea, and paces again.

He should have insisted on binding rings for your wedding, he thinks. Something to trace you in emergencies. There’s little to do without them as you’ve evidently either taken the Floo or Apparated, and, in truth, he can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous. In school, perhaps? During the war? You have him comparing his nerves over a bad cold to those he felt during war. The insanity of that is actually not lost on him, if that counts for anything.

But you are deplorable, and his. His almost as much as he is maddeningly, irremediably yours.

How he allowed an aliment like this to infect him goes against all evolutionary sense. It’s a fever of its own. Incurable despite knowing its cause, and probably festering worse than yours.

And then the fireplace hisses and out you stumble with soot on one cheek and frost on the other, the neck of your coat zipped up to swallow half of your face. In an arm shoved deep in your pocket, a bag swings from the puffy coat crease of your elbow, and Draco baulks. It’s a muggle grocery bag — translucent enough that he can see the square imprint of your favourite sleepy-time tea, a chocolate bar, cans of what he thinks are soup, and — a lemon? Yes. A big miserable lemon that you’ve deigned was worth almost killing yourself over.

Draco does not hear whatever excuses escape your chattering teeth as he plucks your hand from its pocket, puts the bag down, pulls off your coat while you slap at his hands and insist you can do it yourself, and only because he thinks you’d hex him to oblivion if he tried, leads you with a hand on your back to the bedroom rather than hauling you into his arms and carrying you.

“A lemon,” he says, and is aware by the severity of his tone he might as well be saying a gun, or a missile, or a milk crate of Living Death cartons. “You forayed into a snowstorm for a lemon. Do you think I’m incapable of reading a grocery list? I just Flooed —”

“I got more than a lemon,” you huff in a weak voice.

It is appalling that that’s what you take from his admonishment.

Your snow-soaked slippers are tossed aside as you tumble into bed. Draco bundles you in blankets and holds his wand out to take your vitals. You roll your eyes all the while, but once the cold wears off he’s sure you’ll be burning hotter than you were this morning.

He shakes his head. “Lemons are common stock in apothecaries, you know. The shavings are essential in Weedosoros antidotes.”

“Yes, but they’re always so dry.”

“And chocolate — they sell it at Téa’s across the street for the magizoologists. Did you know that?”

“Hmph. No Cadbury, though.”

“And I’ve already warmed the Pepperup and poured you Sleeping Draught, despite your urgency for this —” He pulls the box of tea from your grocery bag, impressed with an image of a little bear with a red nightcap, a steaming cuppa, and a plate of biscuits — “Inarguably superior muggle panacea —”

“I never claimed it was a panacea —”

“Of which we should have distributed to St. Mungo’s en masse. In fact, I should owl them now so they’re informed the Sleeping Draughts are ineffective by comparison —”

“You’re insufferable —”

“Imagine all the orphans without rest —”

“Actually ridiculous —”

“You’re ridiculous. And I hate this bear. Look at his hat. Bloody Gryffindor.”

“Do you know what the wizarding world is lacking? — If you’re concerned enough to make a donation, Mr Malfoy?”

You think it’s hilarious to call him that. He does well not to mention you are, by law, also a Malfoy, and his money is your money to donate as you please.

“What is that?”

“Soup,” you say. “Canned soup — canned with love.”

“We are lacking soup canned with love,” Draco repeats, just to be sure.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be sure to write the Minister.”

“Do.”

“Only if you stay in bed.”

“Hmmm… mmmm… well. Hm.”

“Incorrigible,” he mumbles, brushing the damp from your face before getting up to fix your tea. (He kisses your cheek for good measure, big sop that he is. You do well not to mention it.) “Don’t move or I’ll cast wards on the fireplace.”

“Oh! Cast wards on the doors, too. I might go for a walk.”

He glares at you from the archway. Your answering laugh is broken by a coughing fit, and you look reluctantly glum when he raises a told-you-so brow.

Draco mutters about how ridiculous you are through the kitchen and back, as he steeps your tea, heats your soup, unstoppers the Pepperup Elixir, pours it in an old shot glass from a trip to Italy (you have no graduated plastic cups lying around), squeezes the big stupid lemon in your tea, carries it all to your bed on a tray and realises, still muttering, that these are a lot of steps. But Draco balances the tray without an utterance of magic. It’s rather impressive. You should be sorely sorry.

You are, instead, asleep.

You’re splayed across the bed like something Baroque, limbs fascinatingly posed: half under the blankets and half stubbornly poking out despite his fervent tucking, head nuzzled into the pillow with a slight frown. If Draco were any better with a camera he’d take a picture. Instead he takes careful steps to your bedside, placing the tray on the nightstand and sitting as close as he can manage without disturbing the (once more, revolutionary) arrangement of your legs. It feels criminal to wake you. His fretful anger that you’d gone out in the cold is whittled to a humiliatingly thin and empty husk, and all that remains is mushy adoration. Damn you for that; you look ridiculous anyhow.

Draco kisses your cheek again. Your nose. Your forehead. He traces an invisible portrait of your face with his fingers, as if he’s ever drawn anything better than nasty stick figures on crumpled parchment in school. You, though, he thinks he knows well enough by memory to try.

You stir, not too far from consciousness that it’s a challenge to find it again, but far enough to be audibly vexed by his summons to the surface.

Draco means to berate you in that way he's so good at — chin pointed and scowl permanently etched — but you grumble with a sick, hoarse voice and he falters in a pathetic display. “You forgot your love-suffused muggle soup,” he whispers, one hand cupping your cheek.

“Ugh.”

“Heinous, I know. Sit up for me?”

“Magic word.”

There’s his scowl. “Alohomora.”

“Not that magic word.”

“Imperio.”

“Unforgivables, Draco Malfoy?”

“Hmm, Locomotor Wibbly?”

You sink further into the bed, pulling the uppermost blanket over your head inch by inch. 

“Please,” he says, with profound displeasure.

You sit up and smile.

Draco sighs and lays the legs of the tray out over your lap. You regard his service with sleepy content, one of your hands travelling to his face in what his heart surges to appreciate is an honest thanks after his several near-heart attacks, and then your gaze finds the medically expert Pepperup in an Italian shot glass and it falls.

You groan. “Draco…”

His name says, quite plainly, please don’t make me.

Draco has enough self-respect to at least deny you this. “Wards.”

That says, quite plainly, I was not joking about the fireplace.

You look as though you’re contemplating the severity of two horrors, but it passes fleetingly, with one curse under your breath and a sour expression as you down the shot of Pepperup like… a shot. Burning Ogden’s that scrunches your face up until you shake it away with a blagh noise. 

Come to think of it, Draco's choice of glass is much more appropriate than some medical cup.

“Better?”

You shudder. “I will be.”

“Good. Have your love soup and stupid lemons.”

And then, when he isn’t expecting it, your hot palm finds the place it left off; Draco’s healthily warm, sharp cheek, the soft fuzz of hair beside his ears before your fingers card through the longer strands and you hum like he’s your favourite thing to hold onto.

He melts, eyes fluttering shut. You’re sick, and wholeheartedly deplorable, but you’re safe, and it’ll be alright.

“Draco?”

“Mm.”

“The soup.”

He opens his eyes. “The soup?”

“You know it was canned with love.”

“I trust you wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.”

“And,” you say, thumb flush over his bottom lip as you smile a groggy, self-satisfied smile, “it was made with love, too, right?”

He rolls his eyes, and kisses you nonetheless. “You never cease to ask absurd questions.”

[rutlancecf]

YOU WHAT ...!!!

A few hours later, Bruce and his faithful butler, Alfred Pennyworth, returned to the mansion. First they went to see Grayson in the prison, first to find out his current situation and then to tell him about the state of health of his two younger brothers. After taking more than twenty minutes to calm him down, he promised him that he would do everything possible to get him out of there with his name cleared, and that he would keep him up to date on the health of his brothers.

Fortunately, both Jason and Tim Drake would only be under observation at Gotham General Hospital for one night. Jason only had a few scrapes and a mild concussion from jumping off the motorcycle he was riding to avoid being crushed. And Tim had been accidentally pushed off the stairs by a pair of students who were running, only managing to get a fracture in his right ankle. Which he could have avoided if he wasn't walking in his sleep.

So the only thing Bruce Wayne wanted at that moment was to have a comfortable dinner and sleep until the next morning, without any worries...

- Father.-

Oh no. He looked up surprised. He had forgotten about his youngest son. Damian.

- Damian.-

From the posture of his biological son, Bruce knew that a catastrophe was coming, which he did not want to deal with. He was tired, worried about the situation of the rest of his boys, he just wanted to eat and sleep.

*PAS*

A recently closed door made him realize that there was one more person.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne! - The newcomer greeted very cheerfully.

- Jon.- He smiled very barely, while trying to remember if his son had mentioned anything about his visit.- Good afternoon.-

- Ahem, now that they've exchanged pleasantries.- Damian took out a folder and handed it to his father, while taking his best friend's hand.- Instead of getting into a useless conversation, I'll make it clear that approximately an hour and a half ago.- He looked at the watch on his wrist.- Jonathan and I have formalized and consummated our marriage through civil means.-

To say that his jaw dropped to the floor was an understatement. He looked at his 16-year-old son, whose stage of rebellion began since his childhood, then he reviewed the documents, finding them in order (and therefore, legal and legitimate), to finally look in disbelief at the friend of his headache, of barely 13 years old.

Who took a couple of steps back from that look, and got nervous to play with his index fingers.

- Dami told me that he would give me a box of instant noodle soup if I said yes.- The youngest Kent justified himself.- Am I in trouble? -

There was only one question running through the man's head.

Why?

- Father, given your insistent reminder about the limits of my actions in this your house, I have chosen to comply with one of the clauses that you imposed: be of legal age, or change my marital status from single to married.- The newlywed then responded, to the silent question.

- We brought you some cake! - Jonathan spoke out of nowhere, who didn't seem to be reading the mood of the room.- Dami wanted coconut, but the lemon one was delicious.- He let go of Damian's hand to head to the kitchen.- In fact, I'm going to eat a little more.-

Once they were alone, Bruce could only say one thing, which expressed everything he had inside.

- DAMIAAAAAAAAAAN!-

Moments later, an ambulance pulled away from Wayne Manor.

- Do you think your dad will be okay, Damian?- Kent asked, somewhat worried.

- Yes, don't worry, Habibi.- He took his hand and kissed it.- Now go back to your house and go to sleep. See you tomorrow.-

- Okay.- He took flight and waved goodbye.- See you tomorrow, Dami!-

- Don't forget to brush your teeth.-

~*~BONUS~*~

The next day both families met to discuss the current situation of their minor children. Of course, if that's what you can call the cat-and-dog fight between Bruce Wayne and Lois Lane.

- Lois, Bruce. Wouldn't it be better to calm down?-

- SHUT UP CLARK/SMALLVILLE!- The two yelled at him.

The aforementioned just shrunk in his seat, watching as they continued to yell at each other. While Alfred stood next to where Damian was sitting, with a tray of tea.

- Are you enjoying the show, young master Damian?-

- It's a family reunion, Pennyworth.- He responded while bringing a cup of tea to his lips.- The first of many more.-

Jonathan, who was devouring some cookies, turned around and whispered quietly to his husband.

- What show are you talking about?-

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Heat

steddie, omegaverse, knotting, mdni 🔞

Eddie gets home from work early, wanting to surprise Steve for their anniversary. He’s picked up too much food from Steve’s favorite Indian place, but even the spices from the masala and vindaloo can’t cover up the scent of his mate’s arousal—bright lemons, fresh mint, and honeyed musk.

His heat came early.

Probably from going off his birth control. Eddie should have beaten him here, but he must have gotten sent home hours ago from the intensity of the scent filling their little house. Mouth watering, Eddie leaves the takeout bags on the kitchen counter, hoping they’ll have the chance to eat before it goes cold, and following his nose towards Steve.

He hears the pitiful little moans before he opens the door, his beloved calling to him without words. Somehow he’s still surprised by the sight that greets him when he walks in their room: Steve, face pressed into the crotch of Eddie’s sleep pants in the middle of their nest, ass up, in the prettiest little set of heat lingerie, his pussy on display.

“Eddie,” Steve groans, so deep in his heat, not lifting his face, likely unaware that he isn’t alone.

“I’m here, Puppy,” Eddie murmurs, rushing to his side, petting down his sweaty back. “What do you need?”

Pushing himself up on shaking arms, Steve nuzzles against Eddie’s chest. “Alpha, ‘m empty. Hurts.”

“You did such a good job waiting, Puppy. So good.” Eddie clutches him close, kissing at every bit of skin he can reach. “Can you get my zipper down? Otherwise I’m gonna have to let you go for a minute.”

Steve paws at his fly, managing to push the button through, but struggling to grip the tiny zip. Eddie pulls away and Steve whines, fingers like a vice at his hips. “You just need to let go for a second, Stevie, then you get what you really want. You want my cock, don’t you, Sweetheart?”

“Wan’ yer knot, Eddie. Wan’ it now,” Steve mewls, frustrated tears on his cheeks, but he relaxes his hold enough for Eddie to pull away and push down his jeans and underwear, cock already hard from the soup of pheromones in the room. Steve drops to his knees, mouthing sloppily at Eddie’s dick, breathing deep with his nose buried in his bush. “Alpha!” he whines again, as he turns, face down, plush ass up in the air.

Eddie doesn’t waste any more time, lining himself up and pushing in, hips making shallow thrusts, as he teases Steve’s hard nipples through the slits in his bralette. Normally he would last longer, but the intensity of the scent, the perfect warmth of Steve’s pussy clenching around him tipping him over the edge. His knot fills, pressing perfectly into Steve’s g-spot, making the omega lock around him, crying out as his own orgasm shakes through him.

Steve goes pliant beneath him then, and Eddie spoons around him, sucking a bruise over his mating mark as they lay in their nest. Purring, Steve catches Eddie’s hand in both of his, holding it over his heart, playing with his rings.

Ten minutes later, Eddie’s knot goes down and they separate. Their food is still warm, but Eddie throws it in the microwave for a minute, dishing up a plate for them to share, Steve in his lap as they eat.