#let’s all take ibuprofen and get better together

[primordial0riginator]

Grahhhh

[blueish-bird]

new jjk chapter is… uh…

[corroded-hellfire]

Summary: You help Eric through an anxiety attack

Note: Obsessed with Eric and I need to protect him from the world, please and thank you. Also, Frodo divider created by me 😊

Warnings: anxiety, panic

Words: 1.5k

The carved out hull of the decimated subway car offers little in the way of protection, but with the power out it seems likely not to cause any unwarranted noise. 

Eric ushers you in before himself, the light from the fluorescents of the station giving the two of you just enough to see by. The seats and bent handrails cast gruesome shadows across the small space, and you decide to take advantage of one particularly large pocket of darkness in the corner. 

Your back presses up against the cool metal, dented from God only knows what. Slowly, you slide down to the floor and Eric lowers himself down beside you. Both of you are caked with dirt and there’s blood smeared against one leg of your jeans. Luckily, it doesn’t seem to belong to either one of you. 

A steady stream of water is somewhere near, the comforting sound letting you breathe just a little easier. Eric must feel the same because he dares to lean in towards you and speak softly.

“Are you okay?”

Never did that seem more complex of a question. You’re not okay in the grand scheme of things, but you’re currently still alive and, for the most part, unharmed. 

“I think so,” you whisper in reply. “Are you?”

Eric nods, rubbing his hands up and down his shins, the worn brown material wearing even thinner in a few spots now. 

The two of you were fortunate to run into one another in an alleyway between two buildings—the only stroke of luck either of you have had lately. A natural ease quickly proved that you worked well together and seeing as neither of you wanted to be alone, the choice was obvious. 

Even though it’s only been roughly twenty-four hours since you’ve met, with all you’ve been through in that time, it feels as if you’ve known Eric for ages. There was no denying how cute he was either, but your brain barely had time for fleeting thoughts like that when your focus is on staying alive. 

“How’s your hand?” Eric asks.

You look at the offending appendage, purple from bruising, slightly swollen, and throbbing. Though, it’s slightly better since you’d found that bodega and swiped all the Tylenol and ibuprofen they had. 

During the initial chaos of the invasion—is that what to call it? —your back was up against the brick wall of an apartment building and a man was sent hurtling in the air towards you. Your hand had the misfortune to get crushed between the high velocity man and the brick wall. Ever since you’ve met Eric, he’s been helping you wrap your hand and always checking in on it. 

“It’s sore,” you admit. 

“Let me see?” Eric extends his hand.

Taking a deep breath, you place your injured hand in his. 

Warm, calloused fingers undo the binding currently covering the wound and toss them to the subway floor. It feels nice to let your hand breathe a bit, get some air. With just a featherlight touch, Eric traces his index finger around the mottled skin. The delicate touch sends goosebumps up your arm. If he notices them, he doesn’t say. 

A sense of disappointment fills your gut when he releases your hand to get fresh bandages. You chew on your chapped bottom lip as you watch Eric rummage through the Phantom of the Opera tote bag you’d snagged from one of those tourist gift shops. 

He sprays a bit of disinfectant spray on your hand, the mist feeling doubly cold after having the warmth of his large hand enveloping yours. Next comes a fresh bandage. Eric always applies them so carefully, making sure it’s not too tight but gives your hand some support. You watch him as he works, your eyes taking in the small details of his face while he’s busy focusing on something else.

His dark eyelashes are so long that they kiss his cheeks with every blink. The curls on the top of his head are messy from everything they’ve been through, but it’s unkempt in a charming way. It amazes you how dry his lips are from dehydration, yet they still look so pink and inviting. 

Eric secures the bandage on your hand, and you momentarily move on to admiring the color and depth of his eyes when you realize he’s finished and no longer distracted. 

Heat comes to your face, so you lift your injury up to inspect it, hoping to give you a minute to cool down. 

“Thank you,” you whisper when you lay your hand back down in your lap. 

“Of course.”

The good thing about needing to keep quiet during all of this is that none of the silences could be interpreted as awkward. It’s just self-preservation. 

It goes on that way for about ten minutes before you feel your head get heavy and decide to lean it against Eric’s shoulder. It’s not long before he gently rests his head on top of yours. Despite the circumstances around you, a small smile grows on your lips.

But your peace doesn’t last long. A groaning of metal and the now too-familiar skittering of legs or pincers or whatever they’re called. 

By the sound of it, you guess that the creature is coming from your left, somewhere down the subway track. But there’s no reason for it to know you’re here. As long as you can remain quiet, the monster should just pass you by without trouble. 

A hitch in breath from beside you grabs your attention though. Your head jerks in the direction of Eric to find his breathing speed up and his eyes widen in that recognizable panic. 

Pressing one hand to his shoulder, you get his attention and his head whips to face you. With your other, injured hand, you hold up a finger to your mouth for him to stay quiet.

Eric nods but the rate of his breathing only increases. You shake your head and lean in towards him. 

“Breathe.” The words could barely be considered a full whisper. 

You’ve helped him through these anxiety attacks a few times now so you try to tell yourself you can do it again. You can’t blame the poor guy for being so scared, either. 

The clicking of the approaching monster comes closer then stops. It feels as if time pauses while you wait to see what will happen now. 

Smashing the play button, the creature falls from where it must have been crawling on the ceiling, to land on the subway platform.

Eric jumps and you see his teeth clench together as he tries to keep the panic at bay. 

Step by crunching step, the being stalks closer to your subway car. Even though it can’t see you, instinct tells you to get further out of sight.

As silently as possible, you scoot over so there’s enough room for you to lay flat on the floor of the car. Eric glances down at you and you motion for him to do the same. He gives you a quick nod and with shaking hands, moves to lay down next to you.

Within the cramped space it’s hard for two adults to lay flat, side by side, so Eric ends up on his side, facing you. If you turned your head to look at him, your noses would brush. 

One long black limb stretches out from the creature and crushes a piece of metal right outside your car—probably the remains of an adjoining car. 

Eric’s anxiety spikes again and before you can think about it, you wrap your arm around his shoulders and bring his body down on top of yours. 

It’s not the most comfortable angle for either of you, almost awkward. But Eric wastes no time grabbing onto your waist, his head falling to the juncture between your neck and shoulder. 

Consciously, you slow your breathing down in hopes that Eric’s will follow your lead. 

Another crunch of metal rents the air and you both jump, clinging tighter to one another. Eric’s grip on your body changed positions slightly, and now his head is resting right over your heart. 

You glance down and watch as Eric visibly calms. He takes a few deep breaths and lets his eyes slip closed as he lays against you. 

It takes you a few moments to realize what caused the change. Eric’s head is on its side, his right ear directly over your heart. He’s listening to your heartbeat. And it’s calming him. The thought alone makes your heart rate speed up. 

Slowly, you reach up and gently rest your hand in his hair. He tilts his chin up so he can see your face and you give him a small smile. The one he gives you in return brings forward the confidence to begin running your fingers through Eric’s soft curls. 

The two of you stay that way, listening as the creature moves farther and farther away, until you can’t hear it at all anymore.

But even then, after the immediate threat is gone and everything seems peaceful and calm around you, you both still stay that way. His hands holding onto your body, his head over your heart, and you carding your fingers through his curls. 

Maybe this subway car is a better place to be than you originally thought. 

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Based on Oliver mentioning Buck and Jee baking together in an upcoming ep.

(I wrote this on my phone so it's not the greatest)

now also on AO3

---

"Is it someone's birthday?" Maddie asked, running through all of their friends and relatives in her mind, trying to figure out if she forgot a birthday.

"No." Buck shook his head and kept pulling ingredients out of the fridge and his kitchen cabinets.

"Ok... What's the occasion then?" she asked when he didn't elaborate.

"It's for Tommy. "

"Oh, is it his birthday?"

"No, not for a few weeks."

"Right. So this is a practice run?"

"What? No. I found the recipe online, but it's easy enough."

"Ok..."

"He likes cake."

"Ok."

Buck sighed and rolled his eyes at his sister before glancing up in the direction of the loft's bedroom.

"He's had a rough couple of days. He had to make an emergency landing because of bad weather yesterday and the ambulance couldn't get to them fast enough and they lost the patient."

"That was him? Josh took that call and he was exhausted from stress by the end of shift."

Buck nodded.

"Tommy too. And he was hurting all over last night. He never takes any pain medication but he took two ibuprofen and a hot shower and crashed into bed."

"Are you sure you're alright to take Jee for the afternoon then? I can ask Mrs Lee or see if she can go play with her friend Emily from down the road. "

"It's fine." Buck told her and turned to Jee. "You're my sous chef aren't you? Are you going to help me today?"

"Yeah!" the girl yelled happily.

"But we have to be quiet ok? Tommy is sleeping upstairs and we don't want to wake him. He needs to sleep because he's sick."

Jee nodded solemnly to show she understood.

"But we're going to surprise him with cake so he'll feel better soon, right?"

"Yeah!" she yelled again, making her mother and uncle laugh.

"At least she's enthusiastic." Maddie tried and bent down to hug and kiss her daughter goodbye. "You be good for uncle Buck, me or daddy will pick you up tonight ok?"

"Ok mommy!" Jee said and climbed up onto the stool next to the kitchen counter.

"Go. We'll be fine." Buck assured her, wrapping an arm around Jee to keep her safe.

After Maddie had left, Buck gave Jee an old shirt of his to wear as apron, made her wash her hands, and the two of them got to work.

He tried to let her do as much as possible while still making sure everything was going to plan and she wouldn't hurt herself.

Before long the cake was in the oven and they started the clean up.

"And when it's done baking, we let it cool off a little and then we can put the icing on and decorate it with these." he showed Jee the assortment of sprinkles he kept in his kitchen for her.

Jee nodded happily and started planning out her sprinkles masterpiece.

Buck looked up towards the bedroom area and listened for a sign of life from his boyfriend.

When he didn't hear anything, he decided to put Jee in front of the TV and go check on him. Tommy was fast asleep, rolled up in the duvet like a human burrito, and didn't seem to have woken up since Buck had made him eat something that morning.

Satisfied everything was ok, he went back downstairs and let Jee tell him all about the cartoon she was watching, until the cake was ready for decoration.

"Which ones do you want to put on first? Pink or gold?"

"Gold!"

"Alright, gold it is. Put it on where you think is best." Buck told her. "But not too much, we need to leave room for the other colours. And we can put your name on it. And mine."

"And uncle Tommy." she decided and Buck froze for a second.

Sure Tommy and Jee had met and he'd explained to her that Tommy was to him what mommy and daddy were to each other, and he was pretty sure she'd understood, but to hear her call him uncle Tommy, that was new.

Jee didn't seem to notice just how much she'd just turned his world upside down and was babbling about what colour sprinkles should go where.

"Pink here for the heart." she decided and Buck wondered when they'd agreed on heart shaped decorations.

"Right, yeah, that... that works." he let Jee draw a heart in pink sprinkles and dutifully wrote his and Tommy's names in it. "And where should I write your name?"

Jee thought for a minute and studied the cake but then shook her head.

"No name."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Jee said like it was the most obvious thing in the world and put some sugar stars across the top half of the cake, above the heart with their names. "That's the sky. With stars."

"Oh wow, that's beautiful miss Jee, did you make that?"

Buck jumped a little when he suddenly heard his boyfriend's voice behind him and felt a hand on his waist.

"Uncle Buck helped" Jee told Tommy.

"Did he now? I'm sure you did all of the important work." Tommy said and gave her a conspiratory wink before turning to Buck and stealing a small kiss. "Hey." he greeted him softly.

"H-hey... Did we wake you?"

Tommy shook his head.

"It's fine. Had to get up eventually."

"Feeling better yet?"

Tommy shrugged and sat down at the kitchen island.

"I'm alright." he just said, which wasn't really an answer but Buck decided to let it go for now.

"Uncle Tommy, it's for you. You need to come look!" Jee insisted, pointing at the cake.

Tommy met Buck's eyes over her head and mouthed "Uncle Tommy?" at him.

Buck shrugged and smiled.

"Uncle Tommy, come see!" Jee said again, a little louder this time, clearly getting fed up with the adults in her life.

"Why don't you two come here and show me, and you can tell me what you made."

Buck helped her down from her stool and put the cake on the island in front of Tommy before helping Jee back on her stool, this time sitting next to Tommy who immediately put a hand on her back so she wouldn't fall off.

"This is the sky with the stars." she started like she was explaining the mysteries of the universe. "And you can fly to the stars."

Tommy laughed a little.

"I don't think I can go quite that high in my helicopter. But maybe I can show you how high I do go. When you're a little older. And your mommy and daddy are ok with it. Maybe uncle Evan will want to come too."

Jee-Yun turned to Buck and gave him an expectant look.

"Yeah, maybe." he settled on, trying to get his heart to calm down and not burst out of his chest hearing his boyfriend make plans with his niece. Even if she was only three and would probably have forgotten about it by the time she was old enough to even think about going up.

She seemed happy with that answer and turned back to Tommy to explain the rest of their creation.

"It's really amazing Jee, it's almost too pretty to eat don't you think?"

"No. You have to eat it. It's chocolate." she said as if that explained everything.

"Oh really? I do love chocolate." Tommy told her. "But can I take a picture of it before we eat it?" he reached into the pocket of his sweats only to realise he'd left his phone upstairs. "Evan, can you take a picture and send it to me?"

"Sure." he grabbed his phone and opened the camera. "You should be in the picture too, we made it for you after all."

Tommy dutifully posed with the cake, tilting the pan towards the camera so the decorations were clearly visible.

"And now one with the master chef herself." he put the cake back down on the table and moved a little closer to Jee so they'd both fit in the picture with the cake and Buck took a few pictures.

After that Jee insisted on having a photo shoot, and by the time Maddie came to pick her back up, his camera roll was filled with pictures of the three of them.

He showed a few to Maddie at Jee's insistence and set one of Tommy making a funny face at Jee as his new contact picture.

They said goodbye to Maddie and Jee-yun and settled on the sofa together, scrolling through the pictures and laughing at some of silly ones.

"I like this one." Buck said, stopping at a selfie of the two of them where Tommy had kissed his cheek at the last second.

"Yeah. Me too." Tommy said softly, not really looking at the picture. "Thanks. For today. For getting me out of my head."

Buck smiled and kissed him.

"Of course."

[cepheusgalaxy]

Image descriptions tips & tuts masterpost

[Plain text: Image descriptions tips & tuts masterpost /end PT.] (Tuts is my short for "tutorials" btw)

For when you want to make IDs but don't know how!

Formatting your image descriptions

Image descriptions tutorial

General guide

Describing memes

More detail isn't always better

More tips on describing images (including art)

Yet more little tips

Starting out with your image descriptions

The job of an image description + tips

How to *keep* doing IDs (from someone who does a fuckton)

Friendly reminder

Easy image descriptions to do for begginers

(Edit: added by @anistarrose:)

How to get help writing IDs if you can't make them yourself

IDs for screenshoted tags

Visually impaired person talks about IDs versus ALT text

Why longer is oftentimes not better. At all.

Extra tip from Angel: Tagging your posts as "described" or "undescribed" might help people who need the IDs to filter inacessible posts out if their dash.

[Image description: The "let's take ibuprofen together" meme, edited to say "let's make tumblr more acessible together". /end ID.]

Note: If you have any good posts to add reblog them or send them to me and I'll add them to the original post 💪

[writtnbyhan]

Let me take care of you.

PAIRING: han jisung x reader

TAGS: sickfic, idol!han, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1927

PROMPT: "and just when were you going to tell me about your [injury/illness]?" You're sick and Jisung is worried -- That's the plot.

warnings: mentions of being sick (reader has a cold). Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: i don't know where this came from. I had something very different planned for today's post but this came to me in a vision and now i can only think of jisung taking care of his s/o, he's so baby and he's probably so good at taking care of people !!!!! i just wanna be in between his arms !! being cared for !!!

Okay, here’s the thing: you knew you were getting kinda sick. You knew from the way your body ached when you first woke up, from the sore throat and from the general feeling of being unwell. However, you decided it was not a big deal, and that was obviously your first mistake.

It was Jisung’s kind-of-free day, which meant he only had to go to the studio with 3RACHA to work on “some stuff”, as he put it himself, refusing to elaborate claiming that it was a surprise. You knew they were probably working on music for the next comeback even when this one wasn’t even out yet, and that’s why Jisung wouldn’t come clean, wanting to avoid your reprimanding from overworking themselves when they finally have some free time from the studio, only having to comply with the schedules related to the comeback.

On these days, he was usually only busy for a few hours before they got distracted with something random and therefore decided to call it quits, going home and relaxing for a few hours before moving onto the next scheduled activity. Today, Jisung didn’t have any of those, only going to the studio and then straight back home. You didn’t want to ruin what little time together you were getting these days, and you weren’t actually sick yet, so it wasn’t anything you should worry about.

You woke up alone, the other side of the bed unmade from when Hanji woke up, earlier, and went to the gym before the studio. He spent most nights with you, cuddling to make up for the time you weren’t capable of being together due to busy schedules and responsibilities. Everything ached, and the only thing you wanted to do was cover yourself with the sheets and sleep some more. But, you couldn’t do that. You needed to take a shower, clean up a bit, and force yourself to feel better. “Just for today, tomorrow we can be sick,” you told your body as you got out of bed, frowning and closing your eyes when the light coming through the window was quick to cause you a headache.

Shower first, you decided, going for the warm water and hoping it’d help with the pain on your body. It did, luckily. You then brushed your teeth, noticing on the mirror that the bags under your eyes were darker and more noticeable. Yes, you were obviously getting sick. Tomorrow. You were getting sick tomorrow, because today you had to spend the day with Jisung and cuddle with him watching Ghibli movies, it was a need.

After breakfast, you took some ibuprofen and sent Jisung a quick text.

“good morning, baby. hope everything’s going well at the studio, missing you already :)”

Putting your phone down after that, you set out to clean up the apartment, taking more ibuprofen whenever your body was being inconvenient to you.

“hello cutie, we’re actually wrapping up for the day!! going home in 30, love you.” You read the text when ten minutes had already passed since it was received. With a smile on your face, you sent a quick reply, knowing it wasn’t necessary given that he was already coming home, but also knowing that he would sulk if you didn’t reply to his “love you”.

“love you too<3 will be waiting with the popcorn ready.”

Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and conditioning the living room for

Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and setting up the living room for your movie plans, bringing all the blankets you could find (which was not actually necessary, but you were starting to feel cold so you thought it’d be better to have those around) and the pillows from your bed.

As you were placing the popcorn on the table with some juice, the door opened, and in came the squirrel-looking boy that was able to put a smile on your face instantaneously, even when you were feeling so ill.

“Hello, my love!” you said, dramatically, bringing a hand to your own chest as if to hold your heart. “I thought you’d never make it, I was left missing you for too long!”

He smiled with that heart-shaped smile that made your heart do spins. You felt dizzy just by looking at him (okay, maybe that was the cold you probably had, but you decided to convince yourself it was Jisung’s fault). “My lady, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, shall we begin with our plans?”

You giggled, skipping towards him to give him a kiss on the cheek and drag him to the couch that was currently surrounded by blankets. You chose one and threw it over both of you, getting comfortable in between your boyfriend’s arms with the remote in hand.

Halfway through the first Ghibli movie of the night, you began sneezing.

“’m sorry” you mumbled, getting up to grab some tissues and noticing you felt much more sick than in the morning.

You should tell Jisung, you knew that. But he’d worry, and you didn’t want to cut your night together short.

So, you didn’t. You grabbed the tissues and got back into his arms, kissing his hands when they were in front of you. Jisung freezed when you did that, and you frowned — it was a common gesture between the two of you, why was he reacting like that?

His hand went quickly to your forehead.

Oh, that.

Jisung gasped.

“Baby, you’re burning up.”

He sounded worried, and you sighed.

“I know.” You said. You didn’t actually know you had a fever, but you didn’t want him to make a fuss. You wanted to watch movies together, and cuddle, and sleep. And okay, maybe you had a headache and that had made you grumpy, which was something that always happened when you were sick so Jisung was used by now to your complaints about his caring.

However, despite knowing you always reacted badly to feeling unwell, that comment had made him frown, looking at you while his hand was still on your forehead.

“You knew?” he repeated, clearly agravated by what you had just told him. “And when exactly were you planning on telling me? When you collapsed in the hallway or while I was being forced to bring you to the hospital?”

He was being dramatic, of course, but the sincerity in his worry and his concern made your heart soften a little, so you directed your eyes to the floor, blinking to try and ease the headache that had formed from looking at the screen for too long.

“I didn’t wanna worry you” you mumbled, voice soft and shy. He melted a little at that, his anger dissapearing almost as quick as it had made his way forth.

“Baby, you need someone to take care of you when you’re feeling like this. We could’ve just cuddled in bed so you were more comfortable, and I could’ve been checking on your temperature and your medicine. What hurts?” he asked, giving a little kiss to your forehead before letting his hold around you loosen, clearly having plans of getting up.

You whined at the lost of his warmth against your back, your eyes filling up with unwanted tears at the cold and the loneliness you suddenly felt.

“Hannie…” you cried out, looking up at him, who looked almost bewildered. When he met your eyes, a pout formed in his face. He extended his arms towards you, now standing in front of the couch, and hugged you so you could attach yourself to him like a koala would to a tree. Your hold was weak, so he made sure to keep you safe with one hand on your back while he wrapped a blanket around you as if you were a baby. You knew the plan was to get you to your shared bed so you could cuddle more comfortably and drift off to sleep when you needed it. Problem was: you had needed it for about 15 minutes by now, so hiding your face in his neck and letting his warmth envelop you, you were quick to fall asleep against him, not minding his movements or the sounds around you.

You woke up when it was already dark outside. A wet cloth was on your forehead and you were now in bed, your boyfriend’s hand on your waist and Ponyo playing in the background. You looked to your bedside table and found a water bottle and some pills that you knew you didn’t have in your house. You knew Jisung never wanted to leave your side when you were sick, no matter that you were asleep, so you were sure he had those delivered or asked one of the boys to pick them up for him.

You turned around, letting the wet cloth fall off so as to hide your face in his chest. You felt better after sleeping, and you were sure your fever had subsided because you no longer felt cold, but your throat was still sore and your eyes still stung with the light.

At your movement, Han directed all his attention towards you, kissing your forehead and tightening his hold on your waist.

“Hello, sleepyhead. You need to take some medicine, I asked Chan-hyung to bring it here because all you had was some ibuprofen, and you were running out of it. How are you feeling?” he asked, his free hand caressing your hair and making you feel a lot more relaxed, even when your back still ached and your throat hurt.

“I’m okay,” you settled for, your voice coming out raspy and probably revealing what you were hiding. He chuckled, and you knew he knew what you just said was a lie, so you sighed. “I’m feeling a lot better, but my throat still hurts and my body aches. It’s probably just a cold.” You mumbled the last part against his chest, a subtle way of saying: there’s no need to worry this much.

He nodded, which you knew because you felt his head moving above yours. “Probably. Please, take some medicine so you can feel better faster.”

You did as he asked, taking the pill he was offering you and drinking from the water bottle he had uncapped and handed to you. You smiled at him in thanks, after wincing from the bitter taste of the pill.

“Sorry for ruining or movie date.” Your eyes were sad and he knew you were sincerely sorry. A pout formed on your lips as you thought of when you would be able to have the next one, knowing it’d be difficult to plan out given that the comeback was so close.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby,” he said, equally as sincere. “It’s not your fault you got sick, and I don’t mind taking care of you — I really like it, actually. Plus, I got to watch the movies while watching you sleep, so… I really don’t mind. I just want you to be okay so we can have more movie dates.”

You blushed at his words, feeling soft and just wanting to kiss him — you both knew you should not do that, for he couldn’t get sick now because he had a lot of presentations and performances to do. You pouted.

“This is so unfair, I want to kiss you so badly,” you complained, and he laughed, kissing your cheek.

“I know, baby, me too. So, take your medicine so I can get all the kisses you owe me.”

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Short Frank Drabble

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank is a sweetheart when you aren’t feeling well.

warnings: swearing (I guess?), Frank being sweet, chronic pain mentions

a/n: my chronic pain has been so bothersome this week so I wrote this as catharsis. I hope you all like it!

w/c: 1.2k

Standing barefoot in the sun-streaked kitchen, you let the soft breeze waft over you as it drifted through the open window. The sounds of the city were carried to you atop the wisp of air–the beeps of early morning traffic, the distant sounds of machinery from the nearest construction site. Louder than the Manhattan ambiance, the pair of songbirds nesting on your balcony chirped and twittered. It was beautiful, serene.

Yet, from your place in front of the sink, your teeth ground together as you sluggishly scrubbed at the pan in your loose grip. Every joint in your body was pulsing with agony–a consequence of an injury you never incurred. This wasn’t a new experience. In fact, it was quite common, which was why you were frustratedly washing dishes until your painkillers kicked in.

You had tried to hold out, but after three irritating days and two sleepless nights courtesy of this renewed pain, you’d caved and thrown back a pair of ibuprofen on top of your prescription. There were a handful of reasons that could have contributed to a flare-up, but that didn’t bring you any consolation. Your flare-ups were usually short, and you tended to have a better handle on them than the ineptitude you’d displayed this week.

Sighing heavily, you narrowed your eyes at the charred mark on the frying pan you were holding, setting it atop the sink’s lip to apply more pressure. Vigorously scouring dishes was probably only going to make your existence less bearable, but sitting down and wallowing as your body ached ferociously wasn’t an activity you wanted to partake in. Well, not for the third time in 24 hours.

Finally making some headway on the patch of burnt material on the pan, your face was firmly twisted with a scowl when you heard the deadbolt unlatch. As the door creaked open, you listened to your partner’s heavy footfalls down the hallway towards you.

“You’re home early.” You forced out a huff of a laugh, strained smile across your lips.

Striding over to you, Frank’s broad shadow landed on the sink as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Squeezing you close, your back pressed flush against his chest, his chin tucking over your shoulder as he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“So? Last I checked, it ain’t a crime to run home to my girl.” He rasped deeply, tilting his forehead so it rested against your temple.

Shaking your head fondly, you leaned into Frank’s solid weight, allowing him to hold you upright. “You didn’t need to do that, Frank.”

“Who said I needed to? I wanted to, doll. Missed ya.” His voice quieted with the confession, your heart clenching with affection over his earnest tone.

“I missed you too. Always do.” You murmured, turning your face to kiss the bridge of his nose before turning back to the dishes.

“How long ya been outta bed, sweetheart?” Despite his best efforts, you spotted the concern bleeding into his words immediately.

Smile faltering, you gave a tiny shrug. “A bit. Wanted to get these done so I could cook something.”

“Shoulda told me you were hungry,” Frank frowned, stroking a thumb over your hip. “Woulda picked somethin’ up on my way back.”

“If I don’t cook the bacon in the fridge, I’ll forget about it again and it’ll go bad, so…” You trailed off, stifling a grimace at how weak the argument sounded.

Frank hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, thumb still tracing patterns into your soft skin. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and let me finish these, yah?”

Blowing air through your nose, you felt a small burst of annoyance in your chest. “I’m almost finished. It won’t take much longer.” Your voice was tight as you tried to keep your aggravation from coloring your words. It wasn’t Frank’s fault you were in a shitty mood. He was being sweet. But the suggestion still rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hey, look at me, dollface.” Using a strong finger to draw your chin upwards, he moved his hand to cradle your jaw when your eyes met his. “I’m not askin’ to take over because you’re takin’ too long. You shouldn’t be dealin’ with this crap if it ain’t gonna help ya feel better.”

Chewing at your bottom lip, you felt the telltale prickle in your throat and tear ducts. Shying away from Frank’s intense gaze, you buried your face in his firm chest. “I can do it.”

“I know ya can, darlin’. You’re the strongest girl I know. I just don’t want ya to hurt yourself over some stupid shit like the dishes.” Cupping the back of your head, Frank held you close, shielding you from the world.

Clamping your teeth onto your lip to keep the tears welling in your eyes from falling, you didn’t respond. Frank’s jaw rubbed over your crown as he spoke again.

“Can’t feel good to be standin’ here, usin’ your hands, can it?” Lashes fluttering, you felt your cheeks grow damp as your emotions overwhelmed you.

“No.” You muttered, flexing your hands to lessen the throbbing of every joint within them.

“I ain’t gonna force ya to do anythin’, sweetheart. But these can wait until you’re feelin’ better.” Rocking you ever so slightly, Frank’s hands splayed over your back, rubbing gentle circles as he patiently waited for your decision.

“What about breakfast?” You pulled out of his embrace slightly to scrub at your face.

“I know I ain’t a genius, but I can cook a pan of bacon.” Frank chuckled, swiping a lingering tear from your chin.

“But you just got home,” You pouted, wrapping your arms around him again, nuzzling into his soft t-shirt.

“Exactly. I’m starvin’. Go sit down and I’ll make us some food.” With one final kiss to your forehead, Frank jerked a nod toward the living room. You didn’t protest when he withdrew his arms, stepping out of your embrace and towards the fridge, but you didn’t move either.

Raising an eyebrow at you, Frank cocked his head. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”

Shaking your head fiercely, you dropped your gaze to your feet, bashfully shuffling in place. “No, just…”

“Just what, doll?”

You shrugged, insecurity churning within you. “You’re still in here.”

Smiling knowingly, Frank pulled the package of bacon and a carton of eggs from the ancient fridge, setting them next to the stove before holding up a finger. “Good point. Wait right there, sweetheart.”

Your eyes trailed after Frank as he paced towards your small dining room table. Lifting a single chair with ease, Frank carried it into the kitchen as if it was made of cardboard—setting it down to the right of the stove. “Better?”

Nodding sheepishly, you sank into the chair. “Thank you.”

Bending at the waist, Frank drew you into a kiss. “Always, sweet girl.”

Pulling your knees up onto the chair, you lay your chin atop them to watch Frank putter around the kitchen as he made breakfast. Though, this time, the smile on your face was genuine.

[totaly-obsessed]

kcc hurt/comfort pls (:

Breaking a Sweat

Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request

-> Reader struggles to be alone and gets sick, leaving Kyra to look after her

-> Sick reader, also for this anon!

-> I don't know if hurt/comfort fics are my strength - I tried!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

When Kyra transferred to Arsenal at the start of the season it was a joined decision, that she would not live alone – and who to better pair her up than with you?

You were the same age, already knowing each other from the national youth teams and while you were an introvert, Kyra was an extrovert. It was a good match – and Katie obviously did not try to set you up.

She would never do that…

Living together was an adventure, that is for sure. It was Kyra’s job to do all the phone calls while you did all the paperwork for the apartment and while the brunette was obnoxiously loud, you would not change it for the world.

But now it felt lonely when the young Aussie was gone, having been called up to represent her country for the Asian Olympic Qualifiers. Whilst you could not be prouder of your new friend, you missed her.

Most of your teammates were gone as well – they had left for the Nations League. With only a few people in training everyone worked harder than you already did, desperate to get some more minutes on the pitch, representing the club.

Alone again, you struggled.

Cooking for one person? Too much work.

Buying groceries for you alone? Waste of money.

And while you forgot to care for yourself, your teammates noticed. And they tried, they really did try to get you to eat at the cafeteria but you were so focused on training that it was of no use.

Kyra returned from National camp when you had an off day, and she half expected you to have cooked something – your love language being acts of service. But even in front of the door, she could tell that something was wrong.

She could not hear any music, not even the TV running as background noise – highly unusual for you.

Just as fast as she had the door open, it fell shut again, a gust of wind pulling it close. It had gotten cold quickly, and it was not just cold outside, but also in your shared living space. Quite the contrast from Australia where she had been just twenty-four hours ago.

In complete darkness, the young Australian felt for the light switch, and as she pressed it the first thing, she saw was the messy living room. This was even more unlike you, who always tidied up after yourself.

“Y/n?” Her call was met with more silence, but after closing the wide-open windows and turning up the radiator she saw the lump of blankets on the couch move.

“Honey?”

No reaction.

Carefully Kyra pulled off blanket after blanket until she was able to see your face. A very sweaty one. “Shit. Let’s get you up.”

While you normally would have told the girl off for swearing, you did not even react – barely hanging onto her shoulders as she dragged you to the bathtub. She did not need to take your temperature to know that you had a fever – so the water was not as warm as you would like it to be, especially not with your high body temperature.

After wrangling you out of your sweaty clothes and into the bath, Kyra called Steph for help who had also just gotten home.

“Okay, you want to get her as dry as possible, her hair as well. Sit her on a chair when you blow dry it. get her into light clothes, no heavy jumpers. Lots of water, ibuprofen, sleep, and cool rags will do the trick.”

You were bibbering in the tub, your body temperature cooling down significantly – and while it took a while Kyra had managed to dry you off she managed to do it – cooing at you in a desperate attempt to calm you down. While you tried to help, falling over as soon as you moved a centimeter was not much use.

Dressing you in one of her shirts, the young Australian managed to get you into her bed, after deciding that your bedding needed to be changed as sweat clung to it.

“Don’t fall asleep honey – need to drink something first.” As fast as she could Kyra had gotten a water bottle and some crackers, practically force-feeding you until you fell asleep.

After placing a cool rag on your forehead, the brunette decided to clean up as much as she could. Cleaning the living room, and throwing every blanket that she could find, into the washing machine alongside your sweaty clothes left on the bathroom floor.

It terrified her to find you like this.

Once you were back on your feet, the two of you were going to have a serious talk about self-care. It was hard to grasp for her though – you had been just fine living on your own, so what happened?

Leah helped the young midfielder realize that it was not her fault that you had ended up like this – she had shown up at your shared apartment after Steph called her that you were sick.

With most of your teammates gone, you just missed them a lot.

You had gotten lonely, and if possible, Kyra would do anything to prevent this from happening again. Even if she would need to drag you to Australia.

[kqiscr]

KQISCR'S KINKT☆BER!! (HQ, BLLK, JJK)

a mtl for my (mainly bllk) 23' kinktober fics! one or two fics every saturday and on halloween. i am not responsible for any minors who read these fics. fem reader unless stated otherwise.

OCT. 7 MICHAEL KAISER + CORRUPTION & THIGH RIDING

the way you oh-so-innocently whined when kaiser adjusted his thigh under you made a smirk creep up onto his face. "oh? never thought a pretty angel like you would want to drool all over my thigh."

OCT. 14 KAMO CHOSO + EDGING & PRAISE / SHIDOU RYUSEI AND SAE ITOSHI + THREESOME & DOUBLE PENETRATION

choso hated denying you your pleasure— but you looked so cute like this and he couldn't get enough. "i'll let you cum after this, baby. give me one more. . ."

you had to be the densest little thing to be sitting between two towering pro-athletes and assume they wouldn't see the way your thighs pressed together whenever their hands would skim over your skin. "what'dya say, sae? should we finally give this pretty pussy what she wants?"

OCT. 21 OIKAWA TOORU + DUMBIFICATION & OVERSTIMULATION / GOJO SATORU + BREEDING & DEGRADING & SIZE KINK

gojo finally questioned you on why you had such an interest on his hands— if you weren't going to tell him, he'd fuck the answer out of you. "gonna come inside if you keep looking at me like that— fucking slut wants me to fill her up, hm?"

OCT. 28 RIN ITOSHI + SOMNOPHILIA / BACHIRA (FT. ISAGI) + EXHIBITIONISM & MUTUAL MASTURBATION (tbd)

rin thought he was dreaming when he heard the muffled moans— finding out you were still asleep made him feel pity over the fact you definitely weren't being fucked good. "such a slut that you're even humping my leg in your sleep. i can fuck you better right now than in whatever dream you were having."

OCT. 31 KARASU TABITO + COLLARING & APHRODISIAC / OLIVER AIKU + DRY HUMPING

the bottle of pills looked strangely close to ibuprofen— now you'll need to find something or someone to fix your hangover and the growing heat between your legs. "look at you on your knees like a damn dog in heat— be a good girl and open your mouth for me."

oliver was tired of hearing you whine over the wrong things— especially when he could hear those little sounds for a different reason. "always talking bout' how hot it is, but you can't keep your fucking hands off me."

psa: i will take reqs for certain days if the req is sent at least three days before that saturday. i'll only do one req a week. kinks must be clearly stated in the req.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: some more Nicky for the girlies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Back to usual. 

You say goodbye to Joey with an especially clingy hug. She’ll be gone back to campus by the time you get home. Her short visits always leave you a bit sad.

You arrive at Nick’s place and let yourself in. The remnants of the prior day’s get together are still littered over the dining room table and throughout the front room. There’s more in the kitchen.

You gather the empty glasses and a few bottles with varying amounts of liquid still inside. You scrape plates into the pin and sweep napkins in after them. You fill the sink with warm soapy water to wash it all when you hear the soft but clumsy pad of feet on the stairs. They’re too light to be Nick.

You have the coffee brewing in anticipation of your boss’ hangover. The aroma wafts into the air as the machine clicks. A figure appears in the doorway and you turn to greet the woman in her sleek but wrinkled dress. This isn’t unexpected either.

“Good morning,” you greet her stunned eyes as she blanches.

“Um, I’m sorry, I was only–”

“Coffee?” You offer her as you open the cupboard, “look like you need it.”

“N-no, I… should go. Is there a Starbucks around here?” She croaks.

“No need, I can do lattes,” you offer, “he’s got this ridiculously expensive machine.”

“Er,” she looks down at the heels dangling from her hand then back to you, “sorry, are you… do you live…”

“I work for Mr. Fowler. Just the maid,” you assure her. Her assumption fills your chest with an unspent laugh. You’re far too old for Nick. Besides, the concept is ridiculous.

“Oh…” her single syllable dangles.

You pour her a cup and turn to offer it to her. Her mouth slants in a guilty smile. She shambles forward and accepts the mug.

“You take sugar, cream? Maybe some Advil?” You suggest.

“Oat milk? And yes please, my head is pounding.”

“Right, he has almond milk,” you open another cupboard and pluck out the ibuprofen, “or whole milk.”

“Almond is fine,” she accepts as you rattle the bottle.

“One or two, hon,” you ask as you approach her again.

“Two, please,” she inhales the scent of the coffee and sighs, rubbing her eye socket before extending her hand to take the tablet, “the whole bottle if I could.”

“Ugh, yeah, I don’t miss those days,” you hum and cap the bottle.

You put it away and go into the large fridge, taking out the carton of almond milk for the woman. You take it to her as she approaches the island to clink down the coffee. You watch as she adds the milk and takes a slender spoon from you to stir it in. She takes her first sip and moans before tossing back the pills.

“Coffee good?” You prompt proudly.

“Oh, yeah,” she looks up at you, “yeah, it’s great.”

“Took me a while to master the beast,” you point to the machine. “I finally got my ristretto down, too.”

She gives a nervous laugh and gulps again, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, “you’re nice… really nice. Why?”

You blink at her question. It makes you wonder, was Nick not nice? That’s not really any of your concern.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug and turn to the full sink, “you’re a guest.” You plunge your hands in and scrub the porcelain, “plus, you kinda remind me of my daughter. I’d like someone to treat her nicely too.”

“Ah,” she accepts, “that’s really sweet.”

“It’s human, I hope,” you open up the dishwasher to slide in each plate.

“You really… didn’t have to make me coffee,” she murmurs.

You peek over at her as she stares into the depths. She seems sad but that might just be the hangover. You continue your work as you reply.

“It was already on. If you’re hungry–”

“Please, no, that’s okay,” she declines with a wave, “I think… I think I’ll just finish this and get an uber. Maybe go call my mom.”

“Well, you let me know if you need anything before you go,” you chime as you hook glasses into the top rack of the dishwasher.

You finish the dishes and grab a damp cloth to go wipe the table down. You stop by a few other surfaces to clear away rings from the finish and return to the kitchen. As you enter from the dining room, Nick appears in the other.

The woman faces him as she grabs her shoes, “hi.”

He growls and lumbers over to the coffee machine. He sees the mug waiting for him and peers into its empty body. You clutch the cloth in your hand as you watch his naked back tense. He wears nothing more than a pair of briefs. At most, you’ve seen him shirtless when he needs some stitches.

“More coffee?” You offer the woman.

“No, I should go,” she peeks at him nervously.

“Alright, well, you take care,” you bid her and take her cup.

“Thanks,” she says and skulks to the door, “bye, Nick.”

“Mmm,” he flicks his fingers at her as he pours himself a cup.

You narrow your eyes at his shoulder blades. That wasn’t very polite. Well, it isn’t your job to be his mother, even if it feels like it sometimes.

You put the almond milk away as he turns to lean in the corner of the counter. He presses the porcelain to his forehead and groans. You shake out the cloth over the sink and rinse it out.

“You have a daughter,” he states plainly. A question but not really.

“I do,” you answer evenly.

“I didn’t know that,” he says.

You shrug, “guess it never came up.”

"You’ve worked for me for three years…” he mutters.

“You never asked,” you say lightly, “it’s fine.”

He lowers the cup and slurps loudly. He swishes the coffee around before he swallows thickly.

“Your husband okay with you working twelves?”

You chuckle, “sir, really, it’s fine.”

His curiosity is not usual. You stick to the expected, the manageable. You don’t stray outside the lines. You’re friendly but you’re not overfamiliar. He always seemed to prefer that. He enjoyed talking about himself far more.

“You were busy yesterday,” he shifts his weight to one foot, his muscled chest rippling.

“I suppose as busy as you,” you roll in the racks of the dishwasher and add soap before closing it up.

“I… interrupted your plans?”

“Sir, it’s fine, I had a good day off and now I’m back,” you insist, “are there any other messes I need to worry about?”

He tilts his head and exhales deeply. His cheek dimples as he considers you. The cut on his head is exposed but not as bad as it was, though the bruise under his eyes has only gotten darker.

He scoffs as a smirk slants his lips, “sure. You could change my bed sheets.”

“Sure,” you accept breezily, repressing the glimmer of concern at the base of your skull. 

Something about his response seems trite, as if he means to insult you. You’re an adult, you’re less than shocked at his after hours play. By now, you’re quite used to it. He’s in his prime, he’s well off, and he’s handsome by anyone’s measure.

“You could try some witch hazel,” you touch your cheek then point at his, “for the bruising.”

“I can handle it,” he retorts and pushes himself away from the counter, “enough chattering. Get to work.”

🥃

You knock on the office door and wait for an answer. The little device you keep clipped to your belt is still buzzing with Nick’s demand. He calls to you from within and you enter.

“Sir?” You greet him.

“What took you so long?” He growls.

He’s in a foul mood. He has been all day. He can be gruff, you’re used to that, but today, he just seems prickly. His romp must not have been much fun. Come to think of it, his partner had been all too eager to flee.

You shake away the intrusive thoughts and clear your throat, “I was in the laundry room. Sorry.”

“My head is pounding,” he rubs his temples.

“Right, sir, I’ll bring you Advil and some water–”

“Don’t treat me like a child,” he snarls.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure I’m a lot older than your daughter, so cut it out.”

“I wasn’t– sir, I’m sorry.”

“Go, get the pills,” he shoos you, “and call Rhonda.”

You nod and leave him. Wow. You don’t think he’s ever spoken to you like that. The mention of Joey also puts you off. Why is he so concerned? Most people could look at you and assume you have a kid or too. At your age, with your hips…

You go downstairs to retrieve the Advil and a tall glass of water. You climb back upstairs and follow the airy hall down to your office. As you enter, he sits with his head in his hands, his elbows on the desk. You don’t say a word as you set down the glass and pills.

He doesn’t move. You back away slowly and pull out your cell phone. You’ll call the masseuse, she should be able to work out the tension.

As you get to the door, he growls and his chair squeaks.

“You said something, about witch hazel,” he snarls.

“Uh, yes,” you face him, “it’ll take down the bruising.”

He narrows his eyes, the gesture tweaking his swollen cheek. Even battered, he isn’t unattractive. And the woman in his kitchen was just as gorgeous. So you find it hard to fathom why he’s in such a mood.

“Would you like me to get it for you, sir?” You ask, trying not to sound too pandering.

“Sure, whatever.”

You sweep away and go down the hall to the cabinet. You keep everything stocked well. Part of your job is inventory. You’ll have to go through the liquor bottles later and see what needs replenishing too.

You return to him with the witch hazel and a bag of cotton balls. You place them on his desk as he leans his head against the chairback, his eyes closed. You step back on your heel and his eyes pop open.

“Would you mind?” He motions to his face.

“Sure,” you take the cotton balls and pull one out.

You uncap the dark bottle and dampen the cotton with the liquid. His eyes close again as you sidle closer and you dab gently along his cheek. He flinches, just once, then stills. It must be cold. 

His eyes flick open again and startle you as you retract your touch. Awkwardly, you move away and gather up the bottle and bag of cotton balls. He’s quiet as he leans forward to grab the bottle of pills.

“I should’ve guessed,” he says as he shakes two tablets out, “that’s what I do. I read people. You’re a mother, for sure. She’s older, isn’t she? College? You had her young–”

“Sir,” you sniff, uncomfortable.

“Just the one. And you didn’t answer me when I talked about your husband so he must be out of the picture. Divorced. About the time you came around here, huh? You need the job after the messy break up,” he suggests as he wags his finger with a knowing grin, “probably another woman, huh?”

You blink. You’ll let him think what he wants. His opinion of your marriage isn’t important. It won’t do to correct him anyway. He doesn’t really seem to care, he just wants to wound. You just can’t figure out what you’ve done to deserve it.

[chemblrish]

Subatomic particles from a chemist's point of view - part I: the electron

This proposition actually came second in my poll, but it still had quite a lot of votes + I really wanted to write it, so here it is. Initially, I was going to make a single post, but when I finished writing the part about the electron I thought it was getting a tad long. I decided splitting this post might make it easier to digest :)

Peeking inside the atom

What is a subatomic particle? As the name hints, it’s any particle smaller than an atom. This means that electrons, protons, and neutrons all fall into this category. Protons and neutrons are made of quarks and there are also many different subatomic particles that the relentless researchers of CERN keep on cooking up, but I’m not going to talk about them because do I look like a physicist to you? Let them get excited (and despaired) about the wild assortment of the little guys making up the Standard Model. I’ll stick to the particles that chemistry finds especially important: electrons, protons, and neutrons.

Electron

Ah yes, chemistry’s specialest guy, the rockstar of this science: the electron. Arguably the most important particle for chemistry. If you’ve taken high school science then I don’t need to explain why that’s so, but just in case you actually slept through those classes (shame on you) I have one word for you: bonds. Okay, maybe two words will work better here: chemical bonds.

Chemical bonds

Atoms bind together to make the gaseous oxygen we breathe, the sucrose that dissolves in our coffee and the caffeine in said coffee, the proteins that build your body, and the ibuprofen we all worship using electrons. In fact, if chemistry is the study of matter and the reactions and changes it can undergo, then there is no chemistry without electrons. Chemistry exists because electrons do what they do.

So what do they do? Again, even if you never went any further than high school science classes, you probably remember that atoms are made up of shells (sort of like an onion or an ogre only it’s a stupidly complicated onion) with a nucleus in the middle. Those shells are made up of subshells and subshells are made up of orbitals. Phew. Within shells sit the electrons, but it’s the outermost ones that make chemists all excited (or despaired), because they’re the ones taking part in chemical reactions and forming chemical bonds. We call them valence electrons.

Valence electrons can do all sorts of things to make atoms form molecules. The valence electrons of two separate atoms can bind them together by mixing their orbitals and then sitting there in the single smoothie of the new orbital, now shared by both of the atoms. This process is called hybridization and the bond that’s formed here is called the covalent bond.

Actually, you get two new orbitals or rather as many as there were before this mixing and shuffling. Hybridization is a relatively difficult concept for newbies though, so don’t worry about that.

However, some atoms are greedy and they aren’t willing to share their electrons with anyone. They can form chemical bonds by stealing other atoms’ electrons and turning into ions: and thus turning those other – more generous – atoms into ions as well. This we call the ionic bond. There’s a third option too, chosen readily by metals because metals are commies: the metallic bond. Atoms forming this kind of bond stick together thanks to an electron “cloud” made up of the valence electrons of all those atoms, permeating the lattice this creates and conducting electricity (because they’re called electrons for a reason, right?).

Properties of the electron

Charge: negative one elementary electric charge, AKA -1.602×10^(−19) C (thank you Mr. Millikan).

Mass: 9.109 ×10^(−31) kg (uwu).

Radius: are you out of your mind?

I mean. Theoretical / particle physicists are very much concerned with figuring out the radius of the electron. Good for them! But it doesn’t matter here.

Look. There’s a handful of things that they drill into your head during a chemistry degree: no food in the lab; safety goggles on or I’ll fucking kill you; you only get to keep your dignity until you splash yourself with acid; there is no god, there is only Atkins; everything is a model; and finally – THE ELECTRON IS NOT JUST A PARTICLE OKAY it’s not a teeny tiny marble orbiting the nucleus going wheee!, it’s a quantum bastard that interferes with itself like a wave, then shoots across the apparatus you thought was clever like a particle once you set a trap, it’s an indecisive, secretive, sly asshole that makes chemistry, at its very core, a quantum nightmare of inhuman integrals, spheres, and some donut-shaped absurdities in the place of the onion-like atom model you know from school, I mean look at this thing for god’s sake

Anyway.

We don’t know the exact radius of the electron. Estimates have been made but no final answer. Why? Please ask a physicist. Your resident tumblr chemist signing off for now.

[whinypuppi]

ᶜʷ: ᵍⁿ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ , ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ , ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ , ²⁰⁰⁶ ᵍᵒʲᵒ

plotline: “you get badly wounded and gojo cleans you up.”

i’m kinda disappointed the choso one didn’t take the cake for my poll, so he’ll definitely be coming up next :3

you were a grade two sorcerer—beneath Gojo, your boyfriend, yet you still would try to pass him up by always trying to take on curses stronger than you to prove you could work hard too. he’d always tell you to be careful, but you disregarded him. today was the day your carelessness caught up to you.

you were stupid for going out of your way to fight a special grade curse—even insisting on going alone when you and gojo always went together! he almost called you out for it, but he knew how competitive you were and decided to let you do your own thing.

yeah, that was a mistake. while he was fighting a curse himself, he received a call from suguru that he found you hurt after attempting to take it down. he was in shock and rushed to kill his own, wasting no time and clasping his hands together to teleport into your dorm. luckily, you were there—safe with geto sitting at the end of your bed.

“how bad is it?” gojo asked hastily, coming closer to look at your exhausted form.

suguru turned to look at him with almost a frown resting on his face, “as bad as you’d expect a sorcerer of their level to be hurt by a special grade.” gojo clenched his jaw, followed by his fists. he bent down to look at you, rubbing your cheek softly with his thumb. geto hadn’t seen satoru like this…ever. he wasn’t making any jokes, and he didn’t have that stupid smile plastered on his face.

“sa-toru…” you mumbled, coughing and clutching your stomach in pain.

“baby! are you okay?”

“i was stupid.” you could hardly look at him, but he tilted up your chin until you did.

“yeah,” he started, “you were. but you’re okay. that’s all i care about.” he pulled you into a tight embrace, and you weakly hugged back. he let you go when you sharply gasped from the sudden pressure on your wound.

suguru looked away from the two of you and began to stand, shoving his hands in his pockets before giving satoru a small, reassuring smile. “she’ll be fine.”

gojo nodded, waving geto off as he walked out. gojo might’ve almost believed he was in worse condition than you—considering he had huge bags hanging under his eyes, his hair was messied, and he didn’t smile as much as he used to. it didn't sit right with him, but he never questioned it.

“did suguru bandage you up?” you grunted, holding your side, and he let a hand on your shoulder linger as if to say he was there for you.

“mm—yeah. they're under my clothes.”

“can i see? i could use reverse cursed technique.” he suggested, brushing a stray hair from out of your face.

“you don't hav'ta do that. seriously.” you lifted your shirt up enough to reveal your bandages that were soaked in blood despite geto having just applied them. “hell, that's bad. are you sure—”

“'m fine. can you change them for me?” he didn't push you, only nodding and helping you stand up while shushing you when you hissed out in pain.

i know,

i know.

i got you.

he mumbled as he placed a gentle kiss to your cheek, unraveling the bandages around your stomach before throwing them away. he grabbed the spares suguru left on the table and wrapped them around you—listening carefully so you didn't wince or make any noises of discomfort.

when it was over, he sighed of relief and let you lay back down. “feel better?”

“mhm, thank you, satoru.” you still seemed out of it, and it left him confused. in reality, you were completely embarrassed. you felt weak compared to your boyfriend. your impulsiveness was your downfall, and now you were helpless—laying in bed wounded to be tended to by the strongest.

“d'you want some ibuprofen? i get killer headaches all the time, so there's some in my dorm.”

“..can you just lay with me?” he blinked, but slowly nodded as he processed your words.

“'course i can.” he got in bed next to you, his head resting on one of your spare pillows. his hand trailed over to your stomach, not putting any pressure on it, just rubbing small circles back and forth to sooth you. he always did that for you when your cramps were horrible, but it felt comfortable even now.

“'m sorry i can't be better.”

“..what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean.”

“i don't.” you scanned his features to see if he was lying, but he really looked puzzled. was he that oblivious? “i'm weak.”

he scoffed, nearly rolling his eyes. “weak? you?”

“yeah.” those six eyes that always seemed to bore into your soul looked honest and calm.

“that isn't true. and that's coming from the strongest.” maybe there was more he wanted to say, but you knew he was bad at feelings. he knew he was bad at feelings. even if there were unspoken words between you two, the eye contact you always shared might've been enough.

“trust me. you're better than you think.” he pressed another kiss to your face—this time right on your lips. “even if you were weak, i'd still protect you. that's my job, and i love you.”

a shade of blush rose on your cheeks and you looked away. gojo was quite the charmer, and eye contact was hard when you were nervous. he thought it was cute. “..don't say things like that.”

“whaaaat? you don't like when i get all cheesy?” he grinned, and you pursed your lips in a pouty way.

“i love you too, satoru gojo.” a mumble, yet he still heard.

“i know.” he never expected of you to say it back, but he loved when you did. “so...about that ibuprofen?”

“sure.”

[security-chief-odo]

To Love and be Loved in Return - Chapter 5: The Morning After

Roy Kent x Reader

Chapter 1 2 3 4

Word count: ~1.7k

Description: Will drunken confessions lead to sober actions? Of course they will, this is a romance story for fuck's sake.

• • •

Roy tosses and turns on your couch throughout the night. He tries telling himself that it’s just because the couch isn’t comfortable, but he knows it’s more than that. He is wrestling overwhelming excitement over the night’s revelations and crippling doubt that maybe you’d regret it all in the morning.

As he stirs for about the 5th time tonight, it isn’t his own thoughts that wreck his sleep, but a clambering sound from the kitchen.His eyes wrench awake to see you searching through your medicine cabinet.

“It’s on your night stand.” He says, his voice made even more gruff by tiredness.

You jolt at the sound from across the room. You let yourself relax a little once you realize who those words were from and turn to face him with your brows knit in confusion.

“The aspirin. It’s by your bed along with a glass of water.”

“Oh. Thanks.” In your groggy confusion you add, “Why are you in my flat?”

“Good morning to you too.” You flip him off in response, your headache eroding your patience to nothingness. He chuckles to himself as he follows you towards the bedroom, stopping in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Gonna go out on a limb and say you have no memory of last night?”

You groan at that and flop down on your bed. You have no idea what happened after you called him to pick you up, but that knowing tone lacing his words didn’t bode well for you.

Roy comes closer and grabs the glass of water and ibuprofen and holds them out to you. “Sit up and take these sweetheart. That headache isn’t gonna get any better on its own.”

You slowly sit up, stretching as you do. You take the pills from him, eagerly awaiting the moment the throbbing at your temples fades away. With a large gulp, they’re gone and you’re left with nothing to do but try to piece together the end of the night before.

“So what exactly happened last night?”

“Oh not much,” Roy puts far too much effort into seeming nonchalant as he adds, “just you confessing your undying love for me.”

You don’t process the way that Roy is smiling or that he called you a pet name just moments ago, you are too consumed with self-doubt when you practically beg, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

He tries to seem unconcerned when he replies, fearing you may not have meant your words, despite everything, including Keeley pointing to them being true. “Did you mean it?”

“No. Yes. Fucking hell.” You slam your face into a pillow both out of frustration with yourself and to avoid having to see his face as he inevitably rejects you. With a long sigh you continue, “Yes I meant it. No I didn’t mean to say it.”

The tension that had taken hold of Roy is finally released along with the breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding in. He knows your feelings, so now he can finally let loose and tease you a bit. “So did you also not mean to say yes to being my girlfriend?”

You slowly lift your face from your pillow and Roy falls in love with you again as he can practically read the thoughts on your face as you process his words. “You fucking asshole!” you toss the pillow at him and he only annoys you more by catching it. “You couldn’t have started with that?”

He lets out a hearty laugh at your outburst. “Well I wasn’t sure you meant it and I didn’t want to assume.”

“Of course, I want to be your girlfriend Roy.” you roll your eyes, “Wait, is that why you slept over? Did we do something last night?”

He softly shakes his head, “That’s why I slept on the couch love. I didn’t want to do anything you wouldn’t remember or worse, might regret in the morning”

“That’s very sweet, though I could never regret you.”

Roy can’t fight the smile that crosses his lips at that. “Let me make you breakfast.”

**********

After breakfast you take over cleaning up since he did all of the cooking. You’re about halfway done when Roy comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” he mumbles against your neck.

“And watching me do dishes is what made you realize this?” you say in disbelief.

“No, you walking into my office the day we met is what made me realize that. I just haven’t been allowed to say it until now.” He kisses at your neck and you squirm in his arms.

“Roy, I need to finish the dishes and you are not making that easy right now.”

“Oh am I distracting you?” He teases.

“Yes, you are. I’d like to not have dishes to do later if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” He reaches around and takes the dish and sponge from your hand, discarding them into the sink. “I’ll take care of them later if you’ll let me take care of you now.”

You turn in his arms, “You better put them away in their spots too.”

With that he nods and finally locks lips with you. Your thoughts melt away as need courses through both of your veins. The kiss is almost painfully slow at first. His lips barely touch yours in a soft, tender kiss. “I’ve waited so long for that.” He sighs as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Then, why’d you stop?” With that, he crashes his lips against yours. The intensity of this kiss consumes you as he slides one hand off of your hip along your side before having it rest at your neck, holding you close to him.

You gasp and he deepens the kiss. As if moving of their own accord, your hands settle on his chest, feeling his strong muscles tense as he pulls you flush against him. His hand against your neck moves slightly upwards, entangling itself in your hair. He pulls at it ever so slightly, guiding you to tilt your head, granting him unfettered access to your neck.

Roy leaves a trail of kisses down your jaw as he finds his way to your neck, leaving warm, hot kisses in his path. He zeroes in on your pulse point and you let out a moan. His hand at your hip slides down to the top of your thigh, toying with the hem of your pajama shorts. You can’t help the shiver that takes over your body at this teasing touch.

He lets out a pleased hum at your reaction and lets the hand that was in your hair drop to the hem of your shirt. He slides your shirt up just enough to let his warm hand settle against your now bare waist. You grind up against him eagerly as you feel his arousal against you and he practically growls.

Both of his hands drop to just below your ass to lift you up onto the counter. You slide your shirt up and off and he pulls back to openly oggle you. “You’re so fucking sexy babe.” he groans. His mouth latches onto one nipple, and your back arches as you get the attention you have been craving from him for so long.

His hands tease at your inner thighs and your hips buck desperate for him to touch you. One of his hands settles at the apex of your thigh and right as he lightly grazes your clit with his thumb you hear your phone loudly ringing in the other room.

“Fuck.” you both groan simultaneously. He pulls away and you rush to answer your phone. He follows, hoping maybe this will be quick and you could pick up right where you left off.

“Hey Keeley, what’s up?”

“I’ll be there in like 5 minutes.” she replies.

“What?” you ask.

“We’re going dress shopping, remember?”

“Fuck, I totally forgot. I’ll need a bit longer than that to get ready. I’ll text you when I’m ready and then you can head over.”

“I’m already in the car, I don’t mind waiting in the living room while you get ready.”

You can’t think of a good reason to say no, so the panic sets in as you say, “Of course, see you in a few.”

Roy cocks his head at you. “Keeley’s coming over?”

“Dress shopping”

“Shit.” He groans.

“We can’t tell her this happened yet,” you say gesturing between the two of you, “she’ll be way too smug about it.”

He nods curtly as he frantically gathers his keys and coat to go hide in your room. You’re brushing your teeth when you unlock the door for Keeley. You gesture silently to the couch as you rush back into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

Once you finish getting ready, you quietly kiss Roy before leaving with Keeley.

**********

After hours of shopping and chatting, you settled on the perfect dress for the gala and she pulls up to your flat to drop you off. You grab the dress bag from her trunk and come back to tell her goodbye.

As you start to walk away she calls after you, “Tell Roy I said hi!” and that makes you stop dead in your tracks. You turn back to her and try to play dumb but before you can get out an excuse she cuts you off. “You smell like his cologne and his car is literally right there babes.”

Tempted to try to deny it anyways, you think better of it and reply, “You knew the whole time didn’t you?”

“Since before I stepped foot into your flat.” she nods. “Love ya! Have fun with Roy.” She waves with a wink before pulling away. As you bound up the steps to your flat, a flush crosses your face in both embarrassment at being found out so quickly and in excitement that Roy didn’t leave.

• • •

Sorry for my absence y’all! Life’s been crazy, my pipes burst twice, I’m getting a promotion at work and I got engaged.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten @taytaylala12 @siriuslyreads @ashy-kit @isla-finke-blog @laukora1030 @tamberjo @queen-of-the-downtown-scene @harry-bowie-mercury

[steam-beasts]

Shedding

(This was from when Percy began shedding his chassis)

Percy’s driver and fireman scrambled through their bags and pockets for something. Anything. Any small little pill would do to ease the pain. As they searched, the cries of their engine echoed from outside. Percy was sobbing loudly and gasping for breath. This only made their searches for pills all the more frantic.

“For god’s sake! Where the hell are they?!” The fireman muttered angrily. If it wasn’t obvious, painkillers were what they were after. Their engine, Percy, had been shaking in excruciating pain for a week, and it was getting worse in every way imaginable. Just today, they got a call saying that Percy was just…screaming….screaming bloody murder. The guard on the phone described that it sounded as if their engine was getting murdered. They had to rush out of bed and skip their breakfasts to tend to him, because it sounded so bad. The whole infection had just been one big nightmare, in fact.

The driver gasped “I got them!” He cried, pulling out a tub of ibuprofen. Wasting no time, they rushed out to the sheds to where Percy remained parked. They both nearly stopped when the lingering copper scent filled the air. It had been there since the pain began the week before.

His poor face was scrunched up in agony, what remained of his teeth clenched and his eyes were firmly shut. Small, shallow gasps escaped the saddle-tank’s mouth through his teeth as he struggled to form words. Quickly, his driver climbed on to his buffers, wincing at every whimper Percy let out.

“Dri….Driiii…” Percy tried to speak, but even moving his mouth and talking was painful. Everything hurt. Especially his chassis. His driver shushed him gently, petting his cheek “Percy…Percy, it’s ok. It’s ok…I know it hurts but I need you to open your mouth for me..” he said in a gentle voice. Percy cracked open an eye, a tear leaking out “Mm…mo…mouth?” He managed to whimper out. The driver nodded “Yes, mouth. Can you do that?”

Hesitantly, the tank engine slowly opened his mouth to reveal the slightly grotesque sight; Nearly all his teeth were gone, his inflamed gums stained heavily with dark red blood and vomit, together making a scent that would make you believe that something died in there. His tongue….god…his tongue seemed to have grown? The driver didn’t know why, but it looked longer and pointier, twitching and salivating. Fumbling with the tub, the driver popped open the lid and poured every single pill in there. Immediately, Percy swallowed it up and quickly shut his mouth, panting heavily.

His driver stepped down and took a step back before the fireman spoke “Alright, ol’ boy. Those pills will take a moment to work, but you’ll feel better for a bit” he said. Percy still shook with pain, but managed to muster a small smile “Th…Thank…” he whispered, already feeling some relief. His crew smiled back and both decided to stay nearby, just in case.

But the relief didn’t stay for long.

Suddenly, Percy groaned as his body made strange metallic groans and creaks. Alerted by this, his crew kept watch. The groaning of metal and creaking got gradually louder, until Percy looked at his crew with terrified eyes.

His last words sent shivers down their spines;

“Driver…Fireman…my chassis doesn’t feel right..” The words had barely left Percy’s mouth when a loud, shuddering crack echoed through the shed. The driver and fireman exchanged alarmed glances, their breaths quickening. Percy’s entire frame seemed to tremble, his siderods, as if being pulled apart by some unseen force, bent and snapped off. Pieces of his chassis began to rip and fall off, blood pooling the ground. A wail of pain left Percy’s lips as his frame suddenly arched and bent, almost cartoonishly.

His wheels cracked and slid off his axles without problem, making him vomit. Tears rolled down his eyes as he just continued to vomit while his body lurched forward and without warning, a grey, grotesque looking appendage clawed its way out of his chassis, covered in blood and other bodily fluids.

The driver and fireman just stood, frozen in horror as the grotesque appendages emerged, writhing and clawing at the ground. Percy’s sobs turned into guttural, inhuman sounds, his eyes wide with a mixture of pain and terror. The appendages, slick with blood and other fluids, continued to grow out a bit, with patches of what seemed like wet fur.

Focusing more on his front appendages, they appeared to be arms with hand-like paws on the end that had green claws. By that point, Percy unconsciously put them to use, clawing deeper gashes in his undercarriage, ripping off more until more grey flesh was seen, pulsating and making quick breathing motions, going in and out. It only dealt him greater pain.

His hind legs writhed and twitched violently, also tipped with green claws, his legs kicked the air and scratched at the dirt below, making claw marks in the ground. Percy’s incoherent sounds had devolved into feral, pained growls as an extra appendage grew out. It was long, slick with blood and also patched with fur; a tail.

Finally, one last snap filled the air and Percy let out a nearly monsterous roar of agony, crawling out of his dismantled chassis with weak limbs. The crew didn’t do anything but watch, they were grossed out, petrified, and felt like vomiting themselves from how gory the scene was. Seriously, it looked like something out of The Thing.

Percy shuddered and gasped for breath, his frame rising up and down with each heaving breath, each breath aslo accompanied by a creaking noise.

His legs and arms were sprawled out, twitching and gently clawing at the dirt, his tail also twitching. Percy’s face was locked in a thousand yard stare, his amber eyes bloodshot and wide open. His mouth dripped with blood and vomit, covering his chin and buffers. After a few minutes of silence, the crew hesitantly made their way towards him.

“P….Percy?”

Percy’s eyes slowly turned to the two men. He stared at them intensely, with an almost predator gleam. His nose twitched, and his mouth parted, a soft growl coming out. His arms and legs shifted as he slowly tried to stand. His arms and legs wobbled, but he managed to fully stand up, looming over them with his new size and stature.

The driver and fireman exchanged another fearful glance. Percy, now a grotesque hybrid of engine and beast, was standing on his new limbs, towering over them with an intimidating presence. His body, still covered in patches of fur and slick with blood, glistened from the light. His claws scraped the ground as his eyes locked on to them.

“Percy…”

A hungry smile spread across his face, his eyes wide with excitement as his tail began wagging.

Percy has found his first meal.

[napakmahal]

Anon because I feel like I’m about to say smth cringe lol but how about a fic with a (possibly Psych major) reader that’s got a holistic view of the world with Tadashi? Would be interesting to see what that information brings concerning Baymax’s plan of care and how a relationship would form with Tadashi like dat ya dig

Idk mostly inspired by Natalia Lafourcade’s song María La Curandera (it’s in Spanish, you’ll have to search up the translation if you’re curious!) also growing up in an immigrant household with care alternatives to things maybe a doctor would not take seriously/ not being able to connect with a patient due to beliefs and or language barriers.

Can I just you’re actually so real for this. This is NOT cringe pookie okay. First of all, love my psych classes but also second of all my family is so holistic. We’re from the Philippines and the hospital is reserved special for if you’re dying. (Btw that’s bad, go to the doctors please)

You don’t fight with your boyfriend…like ever. You don’t like fighting and he thinks fighting i childish. But that’s not to say you two agree on everything. Exhibit A:

“At least with my remedies I know I won’t be overdosing on cough syrup.”

“Baby, with all due respect I’m not using herbs to get rid of a respiratory infection.”

Another thing, you love Baymax. You really do. You were there to help build him, he knows you personally but he has nothing to do with your health. And that irritated Tadashi to no end. Flu season had come around and it seemed like everyone was getting sick. Including you. The basic fever, cough, headaches, and disgusting amounts of phlegm hacking out of your throat. Yet, you denied any help from your boyfriend’s healthcare robot.

It made him upset because you could get better so much faster if you let him use his extensive medical knowledge on you, and yet you still said no. But nothing about your ideologies had created such tension until recently. When he caught you doing something he deemed unfathomable.

Almost a week into you being sick, he’d seen you chopping onions late into the night after making his lemon tea.

“What are you doing?” Tadashi looked over at you after coughing up a chunk of bloody phlegm from his own throat.

You sniffed, clearly congested. “Cutting onions.”

“For what?”

“My socks.”

“I’m sorry?”

Surely he must have misheard you. You and him had been together for years and he knew all about your home remedies. There was a stained food processor in your house from when he had joint pain in his wrist and you had him eat turmeric paste. When Hiro had unknowingly given him stomach flu you went out and bought efficascent oil and rubbed it on his stomach. He’s seen you gargle salt water, chew on peppermint, put baking soda on bee stings, eat raw garlic, and drink cranberry juice for your menstrual problems but that one took the cake.

“Do you want some?” You’d asked it so innocently but your tone could have changed if you’d seen the look of utter disbelief on his face.

The both of you had been sick for a week in an endless cycle of eating strawberries, and oranges, taking magnesium, and eating spoonfuls of grainy raw honey. All of that to him seemed fine. Even he understood to a certain extent you couldn’t just take medicine all the time. But when he offered to buy cough syrup, ibuprofen for throat pain, Tylenol for cough headaches, and other flu medications you shut it down. He was free to take all of those things to make himself feel better and he swore it did.

But you were in so much pain and it seemed like whatever you were doing wasn’t helping. Just that morning, Tadashi rubbed your back while you had a 10-minute coughing fit that was so bad there were streaks of blood in your spit. You’d cried when a pounding headache hadn’t left and he felt so helpless knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

Tadashi stuttered. “W-Why are we cutting onions for our socks?”

“You put them in your socks and then you sleep with them on, my mom swears by it. But if you have like sensory problems that’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Baby don’t you think- maybe you should just take something for it?”

You scoffed because you already knew where this was going. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. It’s just you’re so sick.” His voice dripped with concern.

Just as he’d said it you dug your face into your elbow and started coughing. The loud, raspy, crunchy kind of cough. Almost like the universe was on his side. Then came the cough headaches. The one thing you had allowed Baymax to scan you for and nothing else. A build-up of pressure from consistent coughing and sneezing in your head could cause pounding headaches.

The second he saw the grimace on your face, Tadashi jumped up from his study table and ran over to you. Pulling you in for a hug and gently pushing his fingers through your head. But that was also the time he decided he couldn’t take this anymore. His girl was in pain and crying over a sickness he could use his brain and his bot to figure out how to cure.

“I can’t take this anymore.” He confessed still holding you. “Please, will you let me give you a Tylenol?”

“T, no.”

“Why not? It’s so obvious you’re hurting. I know you don’t like taking medicine. I get that, but you just aren’t getting any better.”

You gently lifted your head off Tadashi’s chest and looked up at him. “So are you and you’ve been taking medicine.”

“But I feel like I’m getting better.”

“Hunny, you threw up an hour ago.” You deadpanned.

He racked his brain for a positive way to spin the horrible retching experience. “O-okay but that’s-um, that’s the body’s way of making itself feel better.”

You two were going in circles. But Tadashi was not backing down. He was adamant that you get better if it was the last thing he did and you knew it. Last year Hiro got sick with a particularly horrible kidney infection. So bad that when he’d tried to walk to the restroom he collapsed on the floor physically unable to move. After that none of your friends ever really saw Tadashi for almost two weeks. Right after school, he’d sprint home just to take care of him. That was his thing. Your boyfriend lived to take care of people.

Some people in the world don’t care about anything you’ve ever done and something you will do. Like doctors. Doctors don’t need to know how good or bad of a person your friends think you are in order to take care of you. Finding people like that is rare. Tadashi is one of those people.

And you, one of the people he loved and cared for most in the entire world wouldn’t let his extensive knowledge on healthcare help you feel better. And no matter how many times you reassured him, he couldn’t help but feel like you being sick was his fault.

“How about this,” He suggested, moving his hand from your head to your face. “I will do your onion-sock thing if you let me give you cough syrup. Just one spoonful and then we’ll drop it. Sound fair?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you slowly nodded your head. Out of relief, you were going to let him do something about how you felt, Tadashi leaned down and kissed you right then and there. It was extremely counterproductive and he couldn’t have cared less.

That night, you let your boyfriend spoon artificial cherry-flavored Robitussin into your mouth. And he let you put loosely chopped pieces of white onion in his socks while he slept. For the record, neither of your immune systems ever really recovered in that one night. And yet-somehow, you woke up feeling the best you had in over a week.

[middlechild404]

Taking care of sick Jack

Summary: You come home to find a sick jack laying on your couch and you can't help yourself from trying to take care of him.

_____________________________________

I walked in through the front door expecting to be alone in my apartment, but instead, was met by a wide figure that was sprawled on my couch. I was treading lightly, because he didn't seem to move when I closed the door, meaning he was sound asleep.

I didn't expect to find him here because it had been a while since we'd seen each other last. Technically, we lived together in my apartment but he still stayed at his apartment most days because it was closer to the studio.

Having him in my space was still a bit unfamiliar, due to the short amount of time he has had the keys. Aside from the unfamiliarity, I still felt the fuzzy feeling at the pit of my stomach whenever he was here.

My hands went unconsciously toward his hair as I was towering over him. I could feel the heat radiating off from his body as my palm touched his forehead.

"Jack.." I whispered, trying to wake him up.

He only moaned and turned to his side, not giving me an answer. I started rubbing his back, continuing my attempt to wake him up. At last, he slightly opened one of his eyes to look at me.

“You're burning up” I stated. “How are you babe?” I questioned worriedly.

“I don't know, I don't feel so good.” He said, trying to get up.

I quickly pushed his shoulders down, insisting that he needed to rest. He didn't fight against it as his eyes closed once his head touched one of the pillows that was on the couch. I swiftly went to the main bedroom and brought a comforter to cover him with.

I've never been a great caregiver due to my many failed prior relationships and my mom continuously preaching “the world is female” throughout my upbringing. My mother didn't take my dad leaving us lightly, therefore she had sworn that she would never prioritize a man's needs over her own. That's something she's been trying to drill in my head ever since I was a kid, attempting to teach me about being independent.

Independent, was a word I'd easily use to describe myself. Although, being independent doesn't mean not helping the people you love, which is something my mother would never let into her thick head.

I had this heart wrenching feeling of worry. All I wanted was for Jack to feel better. Therefore I summoned my non-existent talent of cooking and followed a recipe of tomato soup i'd saved on instagram. While the soup was boiling on the stove, I put some garlic bread in the oven.

When everything was ready and I had poured the soup in a bowl I made my way to the living room, setting everything on the table in front of the sofa.

“Babe.. Wake up. I've made you some soup.” I said as my fingers were playing with his curls.

As he was eating away at the food that I'd made, I walked up to find some ibuprofen to bring down his fever and prepare a concoction with tea, ginger and honey that I found on google.

When coming with everything, he had managed to lick the plate clean. He was now leaning back against the sofa and looking up at the ceiling. I interrupted his thoughts when I placed everything on the table. He gave me a gracious smile as he downed the pill and water.

I encouraged him to lie down on the sofa again as I took the remote and put on his favorite show “Succession”. He grabbed the tea and gave me a scrunched look as he took a sip.

“What is this? poison?” he asked with a look of disgust.

“Haha yes, but the good kind.” I winked as he laughed at my remark.

I motioned for him to lift his head so I could sit down on the couch. His head was now in my lap as I kept going through his hair with my fingers, with succession on the TV. All I could think about was that I could do this forever. I couldn't help myself from smiling and looking down at his face. He eventually noticed me staring, which made him look up at me with a tired grin.

“Thank you for taking care of me, there is no other place I'd rather be right now than in your arms. I love you babe.” He said lovingly.

“I love you too.” I answered while my cheeks were hurting due to the grin my face made at his words.

_________________________________________

I know that it's been a while lovies, hope you like this one! I have had a few hectic months but I'm back now so stay tuned for more content❤️❤️

Taglist: @jackharloww , @j-worlds-blog @itsyagirljaz , @harlowcomehome , @neon-lights-and-glitter