#really doing anything is like eating sandpaper | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stxneflxwers · 7 months

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unpalatable.

⋯⁂ summary. suffering with disordered eating, you try your best to brush it off as being picky (as many others in your life have done before.) but, your beloved doesn't think it's mere pickiness anymore.

⋯⁂ a/n. short and sweet post here; so im not really worried about small grammar errors, word count, formatting, or what have you. i just need to get this icky feeling off my mind, ok? for the record as well: i'm writing all of this on tumblr post editor and not in gdocs like i normally do. so there's gonna be things lacking compared to my normal, "formal" works.

⋯⁂ characters. neuvillette. zhongli. wriothesley. gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. reader has disordered eating (this is different from eating disorders, pls read further about it online if you want/must!) reader has poor self-esteem. characters being very very sweet. fluff. might be some hurt/comfort and panic. reader's weight is NOT described. there might be occasional OOC moments, but i tried my best to avoid it lol.

neuvillette.

he doesn't think anything of it at first. he understands the life of being..."picky" as some so rudely put it. he prefers his foods very moisturized, any dryness can be too much for his senses at times (most of the time.) the texture when it comes to something dry or even spicy can be very unpleasant; he swears if he ate sandpaper, that's what it'd taste and feel like.

when he starts noticing the worse..."quirks" about your eating habits, he's not sure how to word his concerns to you. he gets around to it and he can only hope he isn't too horribly late about it. he isn't, but he feels like he's late to saying something anyway.

once you both talk it over, he's already helping out. even if he's not quite sure exactly what he's doing. he's the type to fill your head and heart with sweet reassurances and even sweeter praises for doing your best, his smiles are the sweetest treat of all when he tells you these things, though.

even if he's stiff or awkward about the subject and tackling the problem at the root, he's as supportive as he can be. although, don't mistake this support as letting you get away without eating for long periods of time. he can and will pester you frequently about whether you've properly ate (and hydrated) recently. do your best to not damage his lover, alright?

zhongli.

believe it or not, he entirely gets the feeling of uneasiness and the occasional nausea behind a lot of dishes. fish is his worst enemy, for starters. his species doesn't really require tons of food to live off of, unlike your average human. so, when he first started "indulging" in more human dishes, he soon discovered what a gag reflex was. he won't admit to it, but he really hated it back then.

of course, that was so many centuries ago. he's adjusted fine enough to more dishes these days. and when you tell him about your struggles with eating, you initially write it off as you being childish.

he thinks not.

he doesn't let you get away with calling yourself childish—or any sort of derogatory statement that spits out of your mouth.

his hand slides up to yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. and a promise that he'll do his absolute best to help you conquer these problems with food and eating. even when you start to branch out and eat a bit more than you usually do, he feels so proud of you.

he gives you a shining smile, a peck to the forehead, and holds your sweet, cute face with his big hands; while also filling your mind with praises and affirmations about how well you're doing so far. he loves you so dearly, don't push him away.

wriothesley.

you try your absolute best to hide it from him, the man who is maybe the least bothered by most foods. at least, the one man from fontaine, that is. he really doesn't care too much about what he's eating, as long as it's edible. call it a habit from being an orphan. of course, he has his preferences, but who doesn't?

so, when he catches you eating less or being a little too selective (he's observant enough, don't test him), he brings it up right away in private—he makes sure it's with only you two in the room. he'll ask if you're feeling sick or anything lately, promising you that sigewinne can help out.

when you skirt around the subject, he pouts just a little. it's enough to get you to break down in front of him. you call yourself some nasty things over being rather selective about food, feeling incompetent and weird compared to him.

and he really can't believe what he's hearing at first.

his icy eyes go wide and he blinks on repeat like a broken record. he's still registering what you just said about yourself—his darling cutie. he smiles bittersweetly and shakes his head, it's the most he can muster at first. he's still in disbelief.

your heart sinks into the depths of your gut at the response, burning alive and leaving behind literal heartburn in your throat. before you can leave the room, he scurries up behind you and wraps his arms around you, imprisoning you in the softest way.

he tells you he'll help out if you want it and allow him to, mentioning that he hates to see you suffer. he gives you a loving but tight squeeze (one that's perhaps a little suffocating.) he promises to you to help you suffer, at least, less than before.

he loves you too much to see you in any type of pain, external or internal.

you're a prisoner of your own mind while also a cruel warden to yourself. and if it's the last thing he'll ever do, he swears he'll change at least that much.

#🌠— my works #🌠— fluff #🌠— hurt/comfort #💕— multi #zhongli x reader #💕— zhongli #genshin x reader #💕— neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #💕— wriothesley #wriothesley x reader

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againana · 11 months

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So you wanna purge- here are some foods to avoid!

⭐️ bagels, tortillas, hawaiien rolls. That shit will get stuck and you’ll make a lot of noise trying to get it all out.

⭐️ if it’s really spicy going down, it’s gonna be really spicy coming up

⭐️ tbh purging anything with tomato sauce has ruined me so badly. cant eat pizza or pasta without remembering the specific scent

⭐️ yogurt is so fucking vile to throw up but it’s not hard

⭐️ on the other hand, ice cream? so good. if you do it right after, it’s still kinda cold and it doesn’t taste like death! tbh not a bad experience

⭐️ sushi. stay away from sushi. just… take my word for it please ..

⭐️ SHREDDED WHEATS. listen- i was in high school (and cereal is a huge trigger food for me) i thought i could just throw the cereal back up. nO! it feels like bricks of sandpaper! and it’s like you never even chewed it?????? avoid at all costs.

⭐️ anything red is kinda sus bc is it blood? berries? sauce? who knows!

⭐️ if you never want to eat peanut butter the same way, avoid throwing it up. i had to avoid peanut butter for a long time.

⭐️ soda is so fucking weird to throw up. not bad just so so weird.

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fairyhaos · 1 year

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how seventeen act after catching a cold

requested by anon: "Hey, can u pls do "how svt will act after catching a cold" like will they be clingy or crank with their s/o 😆"

notes: hope you enjoy! this is basically like the s/o counterpart to this post haha but they can also totally be seen separately

masterlist

seungcheol:

has those great big hacking coughs that make it sound like his lungs are being torn in two. he starts coughing and then motions for you to back away really quickly bc he doesn't want you to catch his germs. also a whiny baby. complains about his headache, his blocked nose, even his own coughs. asks you to check his temperature every hour bc he swears he's burning up so bad even though "cheol it's literally just an ordinary cold—"

jeonghan:

clingy. so so clingy. acts like every cold is as terrible as some major illness. tries to use it as an excuse to not get up for the entire day and spend it cuddling in bed with you (and conveniently forgetting that he's sick and could totally pass it onto you—unless… that's his intention…?). sounds like an old man w a croaky voice, laughs at himself and is striking up a conversation with you every half an hour bc he sounds so funny

joshua:

gets a cold just as autumn is setting in. gets another cold when winter is at its peak. gets a (kind of) cold in the summer due to his hay fever. asks you to carry around tissues w you so there's always someone who has it just in case. sometimes when he doesn't have a cold he'll lie in bed beside you and breathe rlly loudly through his nose as if to appreciate the fact that he can actually do it

junhui:

is absolutely Devastated. rarely catches colds, suffers terribly when he actually gets them. coughs so hard that his eyes start watering. loses his appetite, doesn't wanna eat or drink anything. initially refuses the conciliatory hugs you offer before falling into them willingly. is like a sad, dejected kitten for the entirety of his cold. almost starts crying in the middle of the night bc his throat feels like sandpaper n he hates it :((( needs to be petted on the head until he calms down

hoshi:

dramatically throws himself onto you when he comes back from work to tell you that he found out this morning that he was unwell and his head hurts so bad and he starting coughing so much that he almost wet himself. clings to you like a limpet for the entire evening. only lets you go bc you convince him you'll cook him something nice to eat. insists on sleeping next to you, croakily asks in the middle of the night if you'll still love him if he had no voice

wonwoo:

tries to breathe through his blocked nose, fails badly and sounds like the sputtering engine of a tractor. is utterly miserable, will not let you take care of him bc he's so sure he can take care of himself. eventually caves when you put his head in his lap and massage his headache away. very drowsy and kinda not-there the entire time he's awake, doesn't state it outright but he's really obviously hinting that he wants you to hold him throughout the night

woozi:

doesn't tell you when he catches a cold. you can only tell bc he's shuffling around the house a little sluggishly and he's taking ibuprofen along with his supplements in the morning. you try to convince him to sleep instead of going out to the gym but he insists that working out will help him sweat off the cold (?). comes home an hour earlier than normal bc he couldn't breathe through his blocked nose

minghao:

is mad. at his cold, mainly, but that makes him mad at everything so pls be a little delicate with him bc he might snap at you if you say the wrong thing. but then he immediately apologises afterwards because he doesn't mean it at all, he's just tired and his head hurts and his voice sounds weird in his own brain. gets really sleepy, ends up falling asleep on you on the couch while trying to tell you about his day. wakes up two hours later bc of his coughing fit

mingyu:

is sneezing??? a lot??? even though he has a cold??? asks you to cook chicken broth for him, is yelling instructions into the kitchen from where he's laying on the couch in the living room surrounded by pillows and a blanket. grabs the bowl and slurps the soup straight from it like a little child. asks you to pet his head to help him go to sleep, refuses to sleep in his own room during the day bc he wants to see you :((( it would sound rlly sweet if he hadn't coughed at you in the middle of the sentence

dokyeom:

is leaking liquid from his nose everywhere. throws his arms around you to hug you then pulls away quickly with a sleeve over his nose bc the sudden movement made his runny nose almost get all over you. doesn't carry around tissues with him, needs you to run to get some for him whenever he coughs too hard. puts his head in his lap and asks you with his puppy eyes to give him head pats and even tho he's sick you can't say no bc he's looking up at you so sadly

seungkwan:

asks in a baby voice for you to make him warm food bc he feels absolutely terrible </3 you have to force the paracetamol down his throat bc he keeps complaining about feeling terrible but doesn't Wanna take meds. carries round a silk hanky you bought for him once and always dramatically holds up a hand in the middle of a conversation to fish into his pocket and cough or sneeze into it

vernon:

has tissues permanently held over his nose, holds up his hand if you get too close and tells you to back away in case you get his cold. doesn't let you touch him even if it's just a common cold, tries to leave when you enter the same room as him before you reassure him 10 times that you'll be fine. sounds so nasally bc his nose is all bunged up to the point that it's almost comical, and you can't talk to him for too long before feeling like laughing

chan:

wants cuddles 24/7, even when he's sick. gets jokingly hurt if you hesitate, asks if a measly cold will stop you from giving him hugs. has those really wet coughs and they're so often and so hard that you have to pat his back to get him to stop coughing. disappears into his room saying he wants to take a nap, emerges the next day looking even worse than before bc now he even has a fever. wants to be spoon fed soup in bed

currently taking requests

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luveline · 2 years

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could I request reader being sick with a sore throat and steve being worried and taking care of them? just sweet fluff.. thank you sm <3

worried steve 🥺 thank you for your request! :3 fluff + hugs (word count: 1k)

You're sitting on the counter in Steve's kitchen with a sore throat, watching him boil water in a pan over the burner.

"My mom drinks this weird herbal stuff when she gets sick. I think. It'll make you feel better," he'd promised confidently.

He's quiet now, pretending to watch the water when really he's looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You're too tired to ask him about it.

"You're sure I can't make you something to eat?" he asks finally, breaking the silence.

You don't think your boyfriend knows how to cook anything that isn't a TV dinner, and if he could you're too nauseous to think about it.

"I'm sure," you say, throat dry as sandpaper,

The sound of your scraping voice has Steve wincing as he pours hot water into your mug, already prepped with a dainty metal strainer and herbal tea.

"Crackers?" he suggests, slightly pleading.

You shake your head, every word a knife to say. "They're too dry."

Steve let's the tea steep before picking up the mug by its hot sides to offer you the handle. You take it from him, fretting over his burned fingertips as you bring the lip of the mug to your nose and sniff. It doesn't smell promising.

"Don't wrinkle your nose at it, okay? Just drink it," Steve says. You think about the concerned pinch of his brows and forgive his attitude, taking a sip.

"Oh," you say, giggling madly, enough to make your throat burn, "Steve, it's so bad."

He looks genuinely heartbroken. "What? It can't be that bad. It can't be," he says from between your legs.

You grimace. "Sorry, baby."

He shakes his head and eases the mug out of your hand more gently than necessary, taking a cautious, steaming mouthful. He swallows it, looking about as miserable as you feel.

"It's awful," he mutters wryly, more to himself than you. "Hundred percent terrible."

He puts the mug down by your side. His hands are warm as he spreads them over your thighs, frowning. "I can go get you something else."

"Steve," you sigh, reaching out to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, curling it around your finger until he drifts towards you, dropping the crown of his head into your chest.

"Sorry, babe," he says morosely. Then, too quick, he's out of your hands and making his way to the pantry.

You miss his closeness instantly, voice ever scratchy as you call, "Steve?" Your voice breaks halfway through his name. "Steve?"

He emerges from the pantry with a triumphant grin, excited as he slots himself between your legs again so fast it jostles you. In his hands, a honey bear.

"Here," he says, turning the bear upside down and squeezing generously. He whips a spoon from the cutlery drawer and stirs the tea quickly before holding it up to your lips. You edge back just slightly and take it from him.

"Well?" he asks as you drink, eyebrows raised expectantly, looking so hopeful it hurts your heart.

You'd lie and drink the entire mug if you thought you could stomach it. "I feel really sick," you divert instead.

His lips crumple. "That's not better?" he asks, taking it from you for his own sip. "Oh, no. God, it's fucking nasty. How do people drink this?"

You laugh and it hurts. You hold your hand out, fingertips pushing into his chest. "Don't make me laugh," you beg.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"It's not your fault. Just sick."

"I don't like knowing you're in pain," he says, scowling.

You smile softly. "Would you prefer I not tell you?" you tease lightly.

"No, definitely tell me," he says. His exasperation is obvious. You pat his shoulder.

Steve toys with the string on your sweatpants, looking at your neck. You know he's looking through you, thinking about something. You stroke his hair from his face absent-minded, weaving silky strands between your fingers and then tucking them behind his ear methodically. When there's no hair left to tuck back you run your fingers down his face, touch light, following from the corner of one of his sweet brown eyes to the line of his jaw, scratching on the tiniest hints of stubble.

He massages your upper arm in answer, an unconscious touch.

You pause your ministrations to reach for the Teddy bear he's set aside, wiping your finger over the nozzle. You lick your fingertip clean and smile happily. Tea is completely unnecessary, you think. Thank god for bees.

"That good?" Steve asks, raising his eyes to yours.

You nod, feeling a little embarrassed. Steve doesn't care, evidently, picking up the discarded spoon and filling it's well with honey.

He offers it to you. You take it and eat the spoonful gingerly, close to tears when it quells the dry, pinching pain in your throat.

"It actually feels a bit better," you tell him, lips sticky.

"Yeah?" he asks. His relief is palpable.

"Yeah," you say. You hold out the spoon and Steve fills it until there's honey dripping over the side and onto your shirt.

"Don't tell anyone about that," Steve says, faux serious as he wipes away the spill.

"I wouldn't," you play along.

You both smile, too happy, more than fond. Steve works his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he presses his face to your chest, head turned to your shoulder. You hug him back with one arm, smoothing the hair at the nape of his neck lovingly as you turn the spoon upside down in your mouth and clean it off.

He rubs your back with a firm, grounding pressure.

"Sorry you’re sick, babydoll," he says, sounding ridiculously sad.

You giggle as you drop the spoon and cuddle him back, rubbing your face into his soft brown mop. "Not your fault, Stevie."

"It might be. How do you know it's not mono?"

"Did you have mono?" you ask sceptically, already knowing the answer.

"No."

"Then no, you didn't give me mono," you say, wheezy as his arms tighten around you. "Idiot."

"Whatever, nerd. Want another squeeze of honey?"

"...Yeah."

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader blurb #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x gn!reader

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qissu · 2 years

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JJK men and their turn ons and offs ⊹requested

a/n: I just want to apologize in advance, i don’t know what direction this post was heading in lol, some are short and some are long so sorry about that

cw: nsfw, too tired to add the rest

TOJI ⊹ ons

Goes crazy when your stretched across the bed in your underwear, caressing your ankle before slowly moving up.

"Why are you always tempting me, did you forget I have no self control?"

His hands will work their way up, between your thighs, rubbing on your cellulite as he goes to pull down your underwear, massaging your ass.

He'll leave love bites on each cheek, making them deep enough to make you gasp out. "Oh, don't make those sounds, I'll go feral."

Loves fucking you in your sleep

He has a somnophilia kink. Using your tired mouth to force it open with his dick, slow and deep strokes as his dick twitches in your mouth.

The sound of his dick squelching as your saliva lubes his dick up, hitting the back of your throat until he cums down it. Making sure you swallow his cum.

TOJI ⊹ offs

Doesn’t like pegging at all

Toji loves being on top and in control, he does the bending. So every few times during sex when your hand slips near his ass he’ll clench his ass cheeks, you’ll laugh and watch as his face turns sour.

“Come on, it’s an honest mistake!”

“An honest mistakes doesn’t happen 3-4 times in one night!”

With his dick still inside of you the both of you will bicker back and forth until he calms down.

Doesn’t like when you shave as much, prefers you to trim

Toji doesn’t care what shape or form your pussy takes he hates that when during sex he can feel the shaved hair growing back, it feels like sandpaper. Whenever you talk about shaving he’ll always convince you to only trim it. Just let the man eat your pussy the way it is, hairy/trim.

GOJO ⊹ ons

Cowgirl

When your on top it’s a show, from your chest/breast bouncing, the way your nipples perk up and become hard. How your hands are planted on his torso as your mouth hangs open, he loves it all, especially when your enjoying yourself on his dick.

“Awh the little brat needed dick that bad?”

He’ll mock you as you grind down on the tip. “Milking me for all I’m worth, such a good slut.”

GOJO ⊹ offs

Fake moaning

This discourages him and he hates that type of feeling, it’s like a pity win in his book. He needs to know that you’re enjoying yourself and honest feedback is important, whether you want him to go deeper or try a different position to make it feel better.

“Uh uh, don’t do that...let me hear how you really sound.”

GETO ⊹ ons

Voyeurism

Into watching you get fucked in all your holes by gojo, he loves sloppy seconds, the way his dick becomes coated with gojo’s cum as he easily slides in your creamy filled hole.

“Ah, your a slut for another dick besides mine?”

He’ll jerk off to you getting fucked before he takes over.

“Open wide, and swallow without spilling it.”

GETO ⊹ offs

Cross dressing

Totally hates it, especially after that one time you had him dressed in a maid outfit, once he looked in the mirror and saw how stupid he looked, he took it off and threw the outfit away.

“Suguru you look fine!”

“You’re only doing this to get a few laughs in.” He eyes you down before walking out the room. You couldn’t help but laugh at his response.

NANAMI ⊹ ons

Praise kink

Loves when you fill him up with compliments. this drives him wild, making him cum even more. Especially when you play with his dick, sucking on the tip as you keep eye contact.

“You taste so good.” You said as you run your hands up and down his torso, feeling his dick twitch in your mouth.

NANAMI ⊹ offs

Spanking

Doesn't like to be spanked on the ass, it always catches him by surprise and makes him flinch. One time you spanked him during sex and it left a mark for a couple of days. He has very sensitive skin.

“I- I just don’t like it as much, but I’m down for anything else.”

CHOSO ⊹ ons

Gripping his ass

He loves how you grab a handful of his ass or dig your nails into his cheeks, he knows you love it because when he does deep strokes your grip becomes tighter.

“It feels that good?”

Watching you moan

He can’t keep his eyes off your lips, the way you moan his name as he goes balls deep, making you beg for a good fuck.

“Cho- choso.” Listening to his name being spoken from your lip as you struggle to speak it out.

CHOSO ⊹ offs

Silent sex

Like who told you to be quiet? it irritates him because he doesn’t know if your enjoying yourself or if he’s in too deep, he associates your silence to that of a dead body and it’s a buzzkill for him.

“Just make any type of noise, I don’t care...I need to know that it’s alright.”

Piss kink (mahito might like this tho)

Do not give this man a golden shower unless you’re ready to die over it, he will lose his shit if sex turns completely left.

MAHITO ⊹ ons

Virgin sex

Has a deep seated fetish when it comes to virgins, the only type of people he are interested in. Breaking their body and making their pussy/ass beg for his dick as they slowly turn into a sex fuel sex addict. He’ll use sex to have a hold over anyone. Always telling them that their his first as well.

MAHITO ⊹ offs

Don’t want to be rough

Being rough is who he is, he isn’t into slow and passionate sex, he hates intimacy. He wants to fuck rough and balls deep. It makes his dick soft when you say no to rough sex.

“Why are you so inconsiderate to my needs?”

Mans will gaslight you into rough sex.

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promptful · 2 years

Note

how about sick and care taker quotes/propmts?

Caretaker/Sick Prompts

Hi! Here you go.

WARNINGS: Vomit. Hospital. Disease.

DIALOGUE

CARETAKER

1) “You’re burning up.”

2) “Here’s some medicine.”

3) “You’re not ‘fine.’”

4) “Let me draw you a bath.”

5) “Try and get some food down. Anything.”

6) “How about some Ice chips?”

7) “I know it’s nasty, but I need you to take it anyway.”

8) “Can I get you water? Food? Medicine?”

9) “Are you dizzy?”

10) “If you even slightly lose consciousness, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

11) “I don’t care if I get sick. Move over.”

12) “What better way to spend a sick day than movie night and snacks?”

13) “Ohmygod, I just kissed you.”

14) “I got your hair, it’s okay.”

15) “Were you able to eat anything?”

16) “Ice pack?”

17) “I’m staying home today. I don’t want to leave knowing you’re feeling this bad.”

18) “Stop. I can handle everything else.”

19) “Stay in bed, for me?”

20) “I will pick you up, dammit. Lay down.”

21) “I even contacted my mom/dad for this soup. Eat.”

22) “No matter what you look like, or how you feel, I’ll always love you.”

23) “In sickness and in health, right?”

24) “If I get sick, you’ll take care of me, right?”

25) “You’re like a little furnace.”

26) “Sleep, I’ll be right here.”

27) “Let me call into work for you.”

28) “I—I’m not going to tell you what you can and cannot do. But please. Don’t go out like this.”

29) “Don’t feel bad if you vomit this up later.”

30) “I got you, I got you.”

31) “Hey! Are you still with me?”

32) “Fever dreams, huh?”

33) “I know you feel horrible, but just a few more days and you’ll be right as rain.”

34) “You won’t get me sick. Well. You might, but I don’t mind.”

35) “Can I hold you?”

36) “Even if you’re sick, you’re still the prettiest girlfriend/boyfriend/spouse in the world.”

37) “Let me take care of you.”

38) “If you even say ‘I’m sorry’ once, I’m going to be extra caring until you can’t stand me.”

39) “Tea?”

40) “Sick snuggles?”

SICK

41) “My throat feels like it’s on fire.”

42) “Why is everything so hot?”

43) “Why is everything so cold?”

44)“I… really don’t feel good.”

45)“You’re brave being in vomiting distance.”

46) “I’m fine. It’s fine. Stop—stop fussing over me.”

47) “It’s like there’s a weight on my chest.”

48) “Let me sleep. Please.”

49) “Sorry, I’m… I’m really dizzy.”

50) “That felt so real.”

51) “Stop, I don’t want to get you sick!”

52) “Hold me?”

53) “I feel like I’m half-way to Hell and Heaven all at the same time.”

54) “‘Think I got one foot in the grave.”

55) “Gonna vomit.”

56) “Don’t let me fall.”

57) “Is my skin on fire?”

58) “You’re so cold.”

59) “Don’t know if I wanna eat or cry.”

60) “Please, don’t get sick because of me.”

61) “Did you just kiss me?”

62) “Gotta—gotta go to work.”

63) “Bathroom. Now.”

64) “Thanks…”

65) “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

66) “Come on. There’s no need to overreact over this.” “You are literally passing out.”

67) “I feel terrible.”

68) “Did Hell warm over?”

69) “Love you.”

70) “Is this a good enough excuse for you to make me cake/cupcakes/chocolate?”

71) “No hospital.”

72) “Did I swallow sandpaper?”

73) “What about—what about work?”

74) “You’re too good to me.”

75) “It’s just a little cold.”

76) “I’m gonna… gonna sleep this off.”

77) “I’ll freeze to death if this doesn’t stop.”

78) “Why are you so warm?”

79) “I’m shivering…”

80) “Feel like shit.”

SCENARIOS

81) I’m holding your hair as you're vomiting into the toilet. You keep apologizing, but I seriously don’t mind.

82) I made you a bowl of soup? I hope you like it.

83) Without thinking about it, I press my lips to yours and… oh. This is going to bite me later, isn’t it.

84) You’re trying to leave for work, and I keep telling you please no. I can’t imagine what I’d do if someone called me saying that you passed out.

85) Laying on my lap, you’re watching television, and I’m running my fingers through your hair.

86) I made you a list to convince you why you’re still pretty/handsome despite being sick, no matter how hard you’re trying to convince me otherwise.

87) We were just conversing and suddenly your eyes fluttered shut. Ohmygod.

88) This… we’re really close, but you asked me to help you bathe and I can’t just say no.

89) We’ve been arguing about taking some disgusting cherry tasting medicine. Come on. Take the medicine, and then I promise you, I’ll get you some ice cream.

90) I offer some of my clothing after your own get soaked in sweat. I don’t think the red on your cheeks is related to how you’re feeling.

91) While this distance does leave me at risk for getting sick, you’re lying your head on my chest and all I can think about is your soft breathing and hair on my face.

92) After a fever dream wakes you up, I roll over and hold you close, your head underneath my chin.

93) Delirious, you just confessed your love, and I tell you it back immediately, even if you may not remember.

94) Even if my boss may not be happy with me, I called into work to take care of you regardless.

95) You’re underneath ten different quilts and there’s nothing I can do but try to feed the gremlin underneath there. Even if you’re slightly scary.

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pianocat939 · 11 months

Note

here me out, yan rise boys w/ cat mutant reader hcs? feel free to ignore

Reminds me of how I was called cat instead of my name that one time lmao- these aren't very long since idk I couldn't really think of any major differences (this goes with most animal mutant/yokai requests ngl)

Excuse me for any misconceptions with cats, I haven't been around one in a decade so- also- I did write this one as more romantic leaning

Tw: Donnie putting MC on a diet that's only beneficial for cats, Leo playing "shining knight in armour" bs, delusional, just fluff really

Yan Turtles with Cat Mutant MC Hcs

✦Ronald Reagan's Crusty Elbow✦

Finds you really fluffy and snuggly. If you aren't a touchy person please beware of him because he will want to cuddle. He loves to give scritches behind your ears just to see if you'll purr or make any other pleased noises. If you do, he is gonna be all soft to the point I doubt he'll want to let you go for a moment.

Want your fur to be brushed? Bro is all about it. He might even put on a little Soul music while he brushes you. He tries to make it as calming as possible.

If you idk lick his cheek or somewhere on his face (cuz you're a cat-) I think he would find your weird sandpaper tongue so interesting. Might giggle a bit from the feeling.

✦Lathering Nose✦

He is definitely an asshole. He'll do everything and anything to make you jump or get startled. But as soon as you are, he hugs you and gives a few pecks wherever on your face saying you're safe in his arms. Basically, he's doing the "I'm the cause of it and then acting like I'm saving you from it."

Something tells me he would love stuffing you into like a sack with your head poking out and cuddling with you while you're trapped in the sack. He is all about those nuzzles- he loves nuzzles.

He would 100% buy you weird hats for you to try on- because people do that with their cats. It could be an apple, a turtle, to Donald Trump's hair. He just loves funky hats to give you.

✦Dough Slapping Giraffe✦

He is going to ban you from eating any foods harmful to cats because he's a paranoid fucker. Don't think he won't know, because he'll have cameras, trackers, hell he might even straight up destroy that food forever.

We know he isn't too big on physical affection, but I think he'd like you chilling on his lap while he works. I like to think his lab is a bit chilly considering all the metal and other things, so he likes that you're warm.

I'm sorry but he loves being a menace and playing with you with a laser. Definitely not his lab, but maybe the living room or just a more open space will he whip it out and laugh every time you instinctually want to chase it.

He records any cat-like noise you make it. You cannot convince me otherwise. He'll likes to listen to it if he ever has issues with sleeping or idk whatever negative situation.

✦Morphine Sucker✦

Cuddles, snuggles, pets, scritches; he will be all over you if you're any type of fuzzy animal. If he ever feels bad or just feels lonely he shoves his face into your fur, most often your neck. He has a bad habit of playing with your tail. Not in a malicious way, but he wants to pet it or watch it move around.

If he ever cooks for you, he likes to shape any solids or sauce in the shape of a cat head. He also tends to put in ingredients that are more well-fit for a cat.

He loves the sound of your purrs, he'll just cling to you and listen to it every time it happens. Also, every time you purr, he thinks he's doing a good job at whatever and that his divinity is blessing him. So you're quite literally deluding him more.

——————————————————

I'm intimidated to write anything that's romantic omg- like I think I've scared myself into putting the least amount of romantic things when I say it's romantic leaning help-

- Celina

#rottmnt #tmnt #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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earthtoharlow · 1 year

Text

Flashing Lights

Jack Harlow x SingerOC

Series Masterlist

04) The Sweetest Hangover

FUCK

Maryse squints at the sunlight coming in from the open window. Rolling over in the bed to grab the bottle of water she always leaves on her nightstands after late nights out, she immediately realizes that she’s not in her own bed.

Maryse's eyes fly open and quickly sits up. She grabs her head with both hands. Her head was pounding, this might be the worst hangover ever.

Gazing around the room, she notices a few plaques on the wall with Jack’s face on it. So she was either at his place in LA or she went home with a guy who was obsessed with the rapper.

Speaking of which she threw the blanket off her and was happy to see that she had clothes on. She was wearing a white shirt that said missionary jack and some blue new balance sweatpants. Yup, definitely at Jack’s place.

Her mouth was as dry as sandpaper. She needed a toothbrush and water, pronto. Maryse sat up and she untangled herself from the bedsheets, and slowly climbed out of bed.

As she walked down the hallway she smelt coffee coming from the kitchen. Walking in, Maryse saw Jack leaning against the counter wearing nothing but gray sweatpants. This man was going to be the death of her.

“Morning.” He told her with a smile upon seeing her before turning back around to turn the coffee maker off. Then walking towards her. He looked too fucking good in those grey sweatpants and messy curls. Maryse knew she must’ve looked run over with her messy curls and last night's makeup. “Do you want something to eat?”

Maryse immediately shook her head. The thought of eating something right now made her physically ill.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, how the hell did I get here?” Maryse then asked him. Last thing she could remember from last night was falling over laughing with Saweetie.

Jack began to laugh a little. “Well funny story, you were supposed to be calling an Uber and ended up calling me instead to pick you up from the bar.”

Maryse's hands flew to cover her face in embarrassment. God why! “Oh my god, Jack I’m so so sorry!”

Jack laughed again, “It’s okay, Maryse. It’s really no problem at all. I am your hero, after all.” He said before giving her a wink.

“Well, thank you. I just hope I didn’t say anything too embarrassing.” Lord knows the things that could’ve possibly came out her mouth

There was a slight pause from Jack like he was thinking things over. Maryse would’ve mentioned it if a wave of dizziness didn’t hit her.

“…nothing embarrassing I promise.”

“Good.” Maryse said and rested her head on the counter. “I’m never drinking again” she mumbled.

All she could hear was Jack’s laughter and cabinets opening and closing. Seconds later, she could feel him nudging her in the arm.

“Here, drink some water.” Taking it thankfully, Maryse drowned the water. Shaking her head when he asked if she wanted more.

“Since we were already going to hang out today, how about I quickly get ready and then I can take you back to your Airbnb and then we can go get lunch?” Jack suggested

Maryse lifted her head. “You still want to hang out with me after last night?” She had just made a fool out of herself, again in front of this man.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Jack asked before leaving the room to get ready.

Couple hours later Jack and Maryse were off to West Hollywood to grab some lunch. Jack claimed this cafe was the best cure for her hangover.

“No way, you ordered pineapple pizza in front of me. I don’t think we can hang out anymore!” Maryse said to him jokingly.

“Oh no you’re one of them?!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

They were sitting across from each other, Jack leaned in closer to her. “You’re one of those people who gatekeep what to put on pizza.”

All Maryse could do was scuff at him, and roll her eyes. “You’re literally so white.”

It was Jack’s turn to scuff. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, I felt the need to remind you. But fruit does not belong on pizza! You do know you’re mixing fruit with tomato sauce.”

“It’s healthy for you!” Jack exclaimed

All Maryse could do was simply laugh at his silliness. “Oh please wise one, I’d love to see you explain how it’s healthy.” She said leaning back in her chair, arms crossed with one eyebrow raised.

“Alright fine, pineapple is a good source of vitamin c…”

“Uh huh”

“And according to nutritionists” Maryse quickly cut him off. “Which nutritionist? Name them.”

“Stop interrupting me! Like I was saying, nutritionists say that yellow vegetables or fruits prevent you from getting colon cancer…”

“What a load of nonsense!”

Maryse’s face hurt from laughing so hard, seeing her laugh was making Jack laugh as well. Anyone watching them would’ve thought the two were on a date with the way they leaned into each other as they spoke. As their pizza came and went they stayed tucked away in the corner of the cafe with Maryse eventually moving to sit next to him in the booth.

“So how many instruments can you actually play?” Jack asked her curiously.

Maryse started counting on her fingers trying to figure out how many she could play. “Piano, drums, and the guitar; electric, bass, & acoustic.”

Jack’s eyes widened, shocked that she said that so casually. He was impressed and made sure to tell her so.

“That’s insane, how did you have the time to learn all of them?” Jack asked. The only instrument he could play was the recorder and he only knew one song which was hot cross buns.

“Remember I told you how my dad taught guitar and that my mom was a music teacher?” Jack nodded and Maryse continued. “I didn’t learn the drums until I was much older but playing guitar is part of who I am. I remember watching my dad teach others how to play and thinking how freaking cool he looked. I wanted to be just like him so I begged him to teach me. The rest is history as they say.”

“Wow, I’m sitting next to a rock star!” Jack exclaimed.

Maryse laughed at that. “Damn right you are.”

For the first time since they got to the cafe there was a moment of silence. The silence was thankfully comfortable as the two stared into each other's eyes. Maryse was the first to break eye contact when her phone vibrated from a text from her producer and flashed the time.

Maryse gave him an apologetic smile before reading his text. Apparently they cooked up a fire beat that they needed her to listen to asap. Maryse sighed while reading it, not wanting to end her day with Jack so soon.

Hearing her sigh, Jack asked what’s wrong. “They just need me at the studio, right now. To be honest, I really don’t want to end our day together.”

Jack was happy to hear that she was having as much fun as he was hanging out with her. “I don’t either, but we’re both going to be in LA for a while working on our albums so I’ll see you soon.” He said as they both stood up to leave the cafe.

As they were walking out to Jack’s car, Maryse noticed a few paparazzi across the street taking photos, she rolled her eyes at the sight. Paying attention to them and not where she was going, Maryse ended up tripping over her own feet just a little. Looking up hoping no one noticed, she looked over and saw Jack holding in his laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Maryse told him with a laugh of her own, before giving him a light shove. Jack could only laugh harder.

Maryse hopped in as Jack held the door open for her. The pair rode in comfortable silence to the studio. She couldn’t help but look over and watch Jack as he drove. There was something unbelievably sexy about a man driving. The side profile, the look of concentration, driving with one hand…it was almost too much for Maryse.

From the corner of his eye, Jack could see Maryse watching him with an expression he had never seen on her before. Like she was in awe of him.

“What?” He questioned. Jack watched as she shook her head a little, and gave him a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

“Oh, Nothing.” Before looking out her window.

Once they arrived at the studio, Jack came around to open the door for Maryse. They both stood in front of each other, trying to find ways to kill time so they didn’t have to leave one another.

“I guess I should head inside before they start looking for me.” Maryse says with a sad smile. Jack nodded before wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight against his chest. If Maryse could stay in his arms forever she would. The hug lasted longer than it should’ve but they finally pulled away. Jack with a hand still on her arm he said. “I’ll call you later, ok?” There was a slight pause before Jack bent down to her height and placed a kiss on Maryse’s cheek, dangerously close to her mouth.

Shocked, Maryse tried not to gasp at the spark the simple kiss sent through her. After pulling away, Maryse waved bye and before walking towards the entrance of the studio. She had to get away so she could freak out privately.

Once she got to the door she turned back around, happy to see Jack still there watching her. He was leaning against his car with his hands in his pockets. Maryse gave him another wave which he returned and walked inside.

Feeling giddy after that kiss, Maryse let out a quiet squeal and skipped a little down the hall not realizing Jack was watching with a smile on his face.

JACKHARLOW

liked by saweetie, lifeofmonet, urbanwyatt, yungskylark, neelamthadhani, killtrav, natewilliams and 709,487 others

jackharlow: first date 😍

view all 10,678 comments

user: omg you guys finally met properly

user: ok this kinda cute

natewilliams: 🤔

user: oh she hates you

user: yikes at nate

user: damn jack why she wanna go home lmaoo

dojacat: you got her out the house after a night out????

user: her voice tho

user: maybe your are vibes off idk

saweetie: how is she functioning right now? i feel like death

lifeofmonet: I'm not

lifeofmonet: i didn't even know you were filming me!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: kinda a filler chapter but let me know what you think! :)

Tag List:

(message me if you’d like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @toocriticalharlow @mace23477 @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @laylasbunbunny @ilyangelsxo @comehomeimissyou @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome

#jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow reader #jack harlow instagram au #social media au #jack harlow social media au #jack harlow

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redd956 · 1 year

Text

Writing Inspo: Use those 5 senses

Often times when I'm writing the only thing missing to spice up my atmosphere and descriptions are those pesky five senses. You'd be surprised how much of an impact they make when introducing the reader to a location, or character, or anything of that matter.

Sight

Sight is a lot more than just putting what your characters see, though doing that isn't of any harm either and I dont discourage it. Here's a few things you can do with sight.

Describe the surroundings.

Mention details that only the character would note and could be foreshadowing (Spellcasters noticing a local wildflower as an ingredient to an important potion, abuse survivors locating the exit, etc.)

Describe what the character doesn't see, or what could be obstructing their view

Maybe they see something others dont

Maybe the see something that reminds them of something else

Make comparisons with what they do see

Sound

What do your characters hear? What is the world they're in sounding like right now. What noises should the narrator describe? For those of us with properly working ears we know the world is rarely ever silent.

Background noise

Potentially the weather and condition outside (Birds singing, rain, wind howling)

Things that stick out to a characters ear

Things they didn't expect to hear or maybe what they tune out because they always hear it

Eavesdropping on other characters much?

What is your character listening for?

Maybe there's something they don't hear that surprises them

Maybe there's a strange lack of noise

Touch

What does the world feel like. This is the one I admittedly forget to make use of the most, even though touch is an integrated part of our lives. We always touching something. Whether it be the ground, our chair, our own skin.

Perhaps describe what things feel like to touch (Rough, smooth, clammy, damp, gritty, sandpaper-like)

What does things look like they feel like. Our tongues know the texture of everything we look at. Whether we like it or not

Does something hurt to touch? Does something feel good on the skin? Anything

Smell

I often get lost with what to do with smell, despite the fact that there are smells everywhere in our everyday life, and I even have a heightened sense of smell. Always think about what you experience with your senses, and how you could incorporate that into your writing

Air smells, people smells, specific rooms smell a certain way

Some smells are really strong, others faint, and we often only pick up the strong ones

Sometimes we smell nostalgic scents or pick up hints of the weather

Nature itself is full of smells, wet fallen leaves of the fall, swampy nauseous stench of a murky environment, the sour smell of hot air cooking everything outdoors alive

What does your character happen to pick up with their nose

Taste

Now I'd be very concerned and a little confused if your character was going around tasting everything in sight. Although in writing we don't fall im scenarios often where taste is applicable, don't forget about it.

Obviously if your characters are eating something, you got your chance to use taste

Same goes if for whatever reason your chatacter is licking or putting their mouth on anything else

Maybe a character is fixing their mouth for something, thinking of the potential tastes and old memories of it

Any tastes in the air or lingering taste in their mouth

Advise

Now it's is important to note that my advice for the 5 senses aren't tellers they are instead just inspo, and reminders. That's how I utilize most writing advice online. Especially when I'm stuck on how to write something or have bad writers block.

But here's some more advice

Don't saturate your writing with descriptions using the 5 senses. Yes they greatly help, but they aren't the iron fist of your writing.

You can use how a character reacts along with what they sense to explore characterization

Again my stuff is suggestions and inspo not advice

#writing inspo #writing inspiration #writing five senses #writing advise #writing advice #writing

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deejadabbles · 3 months

Text

Forbidden Blossom (Kix x Fem!Reader, Fantasy AU Part 2)

Part One || Part Two || Part Three Coming Soon

Summary: The tyrant king had never claimed to love you and you certainly held no affection for him. Thankfully, there was someone else who captured your heart. Rating: Gen (but minors DNI!) A.N: Listen....I'm just really obsessed with fantasy AUs right now, so I just had to continue what I created back during Halloween! As always, this got way out of hand and the continuation got too long, so this will be a 3 parter. Part 3 will be posted next week so I don't overwhelm anyone Word Count: 3,409 Warnings: Forced engagement, abusive relationships, implied physical abuse, life threats, and forbidden love. If you are concerned that this chapter's content might be triggering, please feel free to send me a message! I will do my best to answer any questions (without triggering language). That goes for all of my fics, I want everyone reading to be safe.

Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

The sheets felt like sandpaper, despite their silken weave, the air cold and stifling regardless of the fire and windows ajar. A prison, even though the doors were not locked.

You didn’t know what time of day it was, but the chamber maids had cleared out recently marking that it was some time before lunch, probably. That wouldn’t matter, you had barely eaten anything since you’d been dragged to the palace of the tyrant.

So, it almost surprised you when you heard voices outside your door. One voice was the captain of your guard, the man who, at least once a day, insisted that you eat something. The other voice was not one you recognized and that alone made you stir just a little under your duvet. Not just anyone was permitted into your chambers, let alone this close to your bedroom door.

“Oh gods, please- please don’t let it be him!”

But even as the heartstopping thought came to you, it was wiped away by the gentleness of the stranger's voice. There was no way the King you had met could sound so…

“There has to be something you can do, Kix.” That was Fox, a good man despite his stern frown.

There was a sigh from the stranger “I can try but….” a thought mulled over, carefully considered, “brother, I can’t heal a broken heart.”

“And why would you think- actually, never mind just…just do something, before he does something.”

The sound of retreating boots followed, along with another sigh a moment later. A heartbeat went by and you hoped the stranger had abandoned his assignment, that he would just leave you to your gilded cage, but then the doors to your bedroom opened.

You retreated further under your blankets, sinking into their plush warmth that still seemed so abrasive to your skin. Maybe if he thought you were asleep he would try again later. Yet again though, this mystery man surprised you. His steps towards your lavish bed were slow and careful, as if approaching a dragon’s nest.

“Your Highness?” he asked, voice quiet and soft. Highness, not Majesty, because you were not yet married to that evil man- thank the gods. “My Lady, I’m a doctor, I’ve been asked to see to your health.” His voice was closer now, right beside the head of your bed.

“I’m not sure there’s anything you can do, Doctor,” came your voice from under the fabric.

Another beat of silence, then, “Would you be willing to let me try, at least?”

You had no idea what or why, but something in his tone made you pull back the covers and peer up at him. He was handsome, devastatingly so, with finely styled hair, but the thing that drew you in most were his eyes. A rich brown color and holding a look that…it wasn’t pity. This was the first time a member of the palace had looked at you softly without pity and that alone kept you from ordering him out of your room.

He smiled then, as soft and kindly as his eyes when he reached out to your hand. “May I?”

Soft and considerate, this man was impressing you more by the minute. You nodded and held your palm up to him. Gently, he took your wrist and pressed his fingers to the soft skin there.

“Alright, your pulse is fine,” he hummed then, again slowly so you had time to stop him, he reached that hand to your forehead. His fingers were cool, like a refreshing damp cloth on a hot day, and it was all you could do not to lean into his touch. “No fever, either,” he continued thoughtfully. Then, after a moment he took his hand away, “May I ask you some questions?”

You nodded numbly, silently.

Instead of immediately asking this and that about your medical history, he instead walked over to your fireplace and grabbed one of the chairs. He brought it over to the bedside and sat with a little satisfied sigh.

“Tell me about your home.”

That caused you to blink, “Wh-what?”

His knowing smile didn’t falter, “Talk to me, My Lady. Tell me about where you grew up. What you loved most about it. The things that made you happy there.”

Your brows came together in confusion and you finally sat upright to meet his handsome eyes better. He didn’t repeat himself, just waited patiently. Despite the fact that his gaze never left your face, you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were in nothing but your thin night clothes. He was a doctor, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen exposed bodies before, but your sudden shyness prompted you to lift the blanket over your chest as you settled your back against the pillows.

“Well…” you started after clearing your throat.

Where would you even start with his question? You missed everything about home, every tiny detail that stood in stark contrast to this place. You missed the sun coming in to shine over a room you decorated and filled yourself. You missed visiting the village and all who greeted you with a smile and a wave. Missed the late nights with friends and people you loved. And the people who loved you back.

That and so much more came to mind, but, you only had to think for a moment longer before a memory two weeks old came back to you.

Nothing about this arranged marriage had pleased you, but you had at least tried to find some enjoyment in your first days here. Then you had taken a walk through the gardens and when even they did not spark joy, your emotions spiraled, landing you here, in your current state.

“I miss my gardens,” you said finally, staring off at nothing in particular. “They were so beautiful. So colorful and vibrant…. Not like the bare, minimal flower beds here.” You trailed off for a moment, pulling up fond memories from the depths of your mind and, for maybe the first time since you started your journey here, you smiled. A real, genuine smile. “There was one section where our gardener would let things get just a little overgrown,” a ghost of a laugh escaped you as you met the Doctor’s eyes again, “he said that it represented ‘wild beauty’ and somehow convinced my father to keep it. My loved ones and I set up a little tea area there and every afternoon we would go walking through the gardens and…just talk and laugh. Simple pleasures.”

The Doctor’s smile turned encouraging and your body turned to him fully. Before you knew it you were telling him stories, stories of you and your best friends racing through the flowers, of begging the bakers to let you help prepare the treats you’d stuff into baskets and carry out there. Stories of reenacting scenes from your favorite books like children playing pretend. He listened to it all, laughing along with you, asking questions here and there and encouraging you all the way.

You weren’t even sure how much time had passed before you realized that the weight that had been pressing on your chest for weeks felt…lighter now. Suddenly, the room wasn’t quite as suffocating as before. Maker, you even had the urge to pull back the curtains to let a little sunlight in.

The good doctor must have noticed your sudden silence, because he pulled his chair just a little closer to you. “Thank you, for sharing those stories with me, Your Highness.” He paused for a moment, seeming to think something over. “I know I’ve already asked a lot of you, but, could I ask one more thing?”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to even hesitate, you nodded silently.

“I would love to show you something, it’s a beautiful day and I think a walk would do you some good. Will you get dressed and meet with me?”

And there it was, he was still asking you, considering you, taking your wants into account. No one here had ever done that. Not truly.

“Yes, yes, I think that sounds nice.”

Those eyes of his brightened “Excellent! Take your time, I’ll tell Fox where to escort you.”

With that, he got up, pulled the chair back to its original spot and made for the door. Only now it was time for your own question, “Wait- Doctor! What’s your name? You didn’t give it earlier.”

For the first time, he looked surprised, “Kix, My Lady. You may call Kix.” He looked back at you with his hand on the doorknob. “I look forward to our walk, Your Highness.”

And with that, he- Kix, slipped out of the room. It was only then that you realized there was a small fluttering sensation in your stomach, something light and almost uneasy. Well, you hadn’t eaten much in so long, it must be that. You thought about indulging in one of the snack trays the maids left at your bedside, but the thought still didn’t quite appeal to you.

Still, the fact that you could pull yourself out of bed and start putting thought into what you wanted to wear was a good improvement.

You did not call on your handmaids, the idea of being surrounded by people, of hands on your skin and in your hair, did not sit well at the moment. Despite that, and the fact that it was the first time in days you had come out of your room, It did not take that long to get ready and ask Fox to escort you to this mysterious location.

At first when you stepped outside the east wing, your heart dropped slightly, knowing that this was the way to the gardens that were a stark, depressing imitation of your lavish grounds back home. But, the gentle doctor was not waiting for you there. Yes, you had to walk through those almost sterile flowerbeds, but obviously this was not the intended meeting spot.

You kept your eyes forward, not wanting to see the roses cut down to their stems so the thorns prickled in the sunlight, or how the lilies were cut free of any diverse or colorful petals, robbing them of unique beauty. At the edge of the overly pruned yard was a line of tall hedges and Fox led you past them.

What lay beyond took your breath away.

It was an orchard teeming with life. Countless trees bearing fragrant fruit and vine covered trellises blooming with even more. All of them were well tended, cared for, but not overly cut like the flowers before. No, these were how nature should be, respected and loved and free to grow.

And there among it all, looking fondly at a patch of strawberries, was Kix. His smile rivaled the warmth of the sun as he noticed you standing there and he bowed his head slightly. “Your Highness, thank you for joining me.” Then he turned to Fox, “You can leave the Princess to me, Commander.”

In answer, the leader of your personal guard sighed, but turned to stand sentry by the hedge archway without protest. Kix waved his hand down the humble pathway between the trees, an invitation to walk with him. You did, gladly, and didn’t try to hide how in wonder you were of the orchard as you two began your walk.

“Hardly anyone but the gardeners come here,” Kix explained, “It took a long time for them to convince the King that over pruning is bad for the harvest, and that’s the only reason these plants and trees aren’t cut down to their stems. When you told those stories about your garden back home, I thought you might like it here.”

“It’s beautiful,” your tone was breathless, which obviously pleased him to no end, if that look in his eyes was any indication. “Thank you, Kix, this is wonderful.”

He opened his mouth, a response on the tip of his tongue, but then he hesitated. Instead, he walked over to the nearest tree, which just so happened to be bearing one of your favorite fruits, and plucked a ripe specimen from the branch.

“I know that your situation isn’t an easy one, Princess,” he started as he walked back to you, “but if you ever need an ear to listen,” he took your hand and placed the fruit in your palm, “you just have to ask, and I’m yours.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you nearly gasped at his words and that’s when he suddenly looked a little flustered.

“My ear- my ear is yours, I mean.” He laughed nervously, then closed your fingers over the fruit, “What I’m trying to say is that, if you ever need a friend, I would be honored if you considered me one.”

It was hard to meet his gaze, not because you were embarrassed by his misstep in words, but because his promise made that fluttering sensation move to your chest as well as your stomach. This man, so full of kindness and care, he was making your heart feel light and heavy all at the same time. Maybe there was some joy to be found in this cage. You would take any you could get, so, you thanked the Doctor for his kind words.

“I would be the one honored to call you my friend, Kix.”

Something akin to surprise colored his eyes at that, surprise and something… tender.

“Then, whenever you need to talk, or want a reminder of home, just call on me.” Then, Kix closed his eyes and lifted your clasped hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your fingers.

It was that moment that your heart took flight.

It was no wonder that, over the next months, the Princess and the Doctor would fall madly and deeply in love.

Your room had never quite felt like a home, always a golden cell, always a sign of your lost freedom, or the way you were chained to him. But it had never felt as cold and unforgiving as it did now. The fire was out, leaving you in icy darkness, all while the fiance you never chose towered over you.

“I asked you a question, girl: do you think I am a fool?” The tyrant king’s tone was flat and cold, even as you tried to choke back the tears from your spot on the floor.

Even if you tried to get up, he would just force you back down again, so you answered him through gritted teeth. “No. You are no fool, Your Majesty.”

“Then why did you think I wouldn’t find out about this?” It was the first time something besides cold fury colored his tone. He was seething now. “Did you truly think I was so blind? That I wouldn’t see the longing stares or hear about your romantic walks?!”

You yelped when he grabbed your collar and yanked you onto your back.

“Did you truly think you could get away with making a fool of me?”

For all his cruelty, you had never seen him like this, his brutality had always been a cold and unfeeling blade, not this burning fire of rage. It was all there in his eye and bared teeth as he glared down at you and it made you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Then, the harsh curl of his lips eased, teeth no longer bared, as he leaned back and stepped away from your prone form. He was regaining his composure before your eyes as he straightened and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Get up,” he commanded, tone like cold steel once again. “I want you to have a better seat when my men bring in the good doctor.”

That caused your heart to freeze in your chest. “No- no!” The desperate plea left you as you scrambled to your feet.

The King smiled in that cruel curl of his lips. “Yes, my dear. You will watch while I make an example of him. While I show him what happens to men who touch what’s mine.”

“Please!” Your voice cracked with the force of your words, “Please- I’m to blame, not him!”

His smile only grew with more you pleaded, “Which is exactly why I will hurt him instead.”

That vicious mirth in his eyes is what made you lose any last shred of resolve. Of course this was his plan, cold and calculated. Bruises could heal, but the memories of this? They would haunt you forever, and in the end he still got his meek pet for a queen.

“I gave you an order,” he went on, “I said get up-”

He was interrupted by the doors to your chambers being thrown open. In marched a company of the King’s most trusted guards, with Commander Fox, who had been ordered to wait outside, hot on their heels.

“Your Majesty,” the head of this company said with a bow, “my men are still searching the grounds, but it would appear that the traitor Kix has…escaped.”

Oh, the king did not like that.

The fabric of his gloves strained as he clenched his fists, the knuckles surely white beneath. He drew in a harsh breath through his nose as he turned away from you without a second glance.

“Find him. Search the whole kingdom if needed,” all the guards, save for Fox, followed their king as he stormed towards the doors, “if you have to bring him back here in pieces, do it!”

With that threat ringing in your ears, doors were slammed shut again, the sound echoing through the room like glass shattering on marble.

Silence swelled, filling the void the King’s rage left behind. Leaving you in the cold and the dark. In your cage draped in finery.

Gone. Kix was gone. He had escaped somehow. The thought sent a myriad of emotions washing through you, tearing and shredding your body in a confusing whirlwind. Before you knew it, you were curling in on yourself, fists clutching the fabric over your heart and tears staining your cheeks.

Harsh sobs wracked your body and you couldn’t say whether they were from the relief of knowing he was safe or the sorrow of knowing you would never see the love of your life again. Deep down, they were likely both, you supposed.

You jumped when something warm and heavy was draped around your shoulders. You hadn’t even noticed Fox kneeling beside you, blanket in hand. Somewhere, in the back of your mind you remembered telling him that the blanket was your favorite from home, but at the moment all you could do was pull it tighter around yourself as you tried to steady the painful breaths you were taking.

Fox, possibly the only other man who had ever shown you any care in this hellish castle, didn’t say a word as he waited for your body to tire itself out with its mourning. When it did, he silently helped you to your feet. You don’t remember walking to your bed, just that the blankets had been placed over you and the fireplace nearby had been stoked back to life.

Finally, your trusted guard spoke, a firm if still cautious call of your name. Your actual name, not a title. “Please,” he said in a whisper, “don’t do anything drastic. Things won’t be like this for much longer. I promise.”

Confused, you blinked up at him, but he didn’t say anything more, just bowed his head respectfully and closed the curtains of your bed slowly. If there had been any strength left in you, you might have called for him, asked him to stay close. To not leave you. You didn’t need to ask, however, you heard his boots stop just outside your bedroom. Standing sentry, acting as your shield, as much as he could in any case.

The patterns of the curtains danced from the crackling fire on the other side, but it was just a blank canvas to stare at as your mind ran the same thoughts in your head over and over again. He’s gone, Kix is gone. At best, you’ll never know true love’s touch again, at worst, you’ll see that love slaughtered for the crime of existing.

Still, even in your spiraling despair, one other mantra crept in here and there.

“Things won’t be like this for much longer”

Divider by the amazing @dystopicjumpsuit

#kix x reader #clone medic kix x reader #fantasy au #clone wars fantasy au #deeja writes #reader insert #clone wars reader insert

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tildeathiwillwrite · 26 days

Text

Experimentation Begins (Magician's Bait, Part 2)

WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 2: Starvation / Thirst / "Please…"

Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

<- previous part | next part ->

TW: tied up, starvation, thirst, headache, creepily intimate whumper

Context: Damian has been trapped for a few days now, probably. His captor hasn't given anything to eat or drink. But he thinks he's figured out who she's after.

-----

How long has it been?

Time was immeasurable in Damian’s prison of darkness. The only indication that he was still alive at all was his heart beating in his chest, the aching in his wrists and ankles, and the steady gnawing of hunger.

His captor rarely visited. When she did, it was only to undo his bonds for short bursts at a time so he could walk around the cell and relieve himself. The room he’d been imprisoned in was small, only a couple paces across. The walls and floor were cool, rough stone, acting like sandpaper whenever he ran his fingers over them.

But she hadn’t fed him.

Was this one of those “tests” she’d mentioned?

Starving him was a cruel form of torture.

The lack of water, however, would probably kill him first.

Currently, Damian was back in the chair, the rough ropes continuously wearing away at the skin of his wrists as he tried to find a comfortable position to sleep. The muscles in his shoulders burned from the strain, and his neck and upper back were no better. The cut on the back of his head from the fall on his first day was slowly healing, and it was probably responsible for the dull ache in his head.

The Stalker wanted him alive, didn’t she?

That’s what she said, at least.

Damian ran his tongue over his cracked lips. It was surprisingly dry in the cell, considering he’d been abducted during the peak of the humid season. Or maybe it was another symptom of thirst. That was more likely.

He sighed heavily through his nose, anxiously curling and uncurling his fingers. Being bound in one spot for so long was strange. He’d never considered himself restless, but he'd never been forced to stay still in such a brutal way.

Despite the headache, Damian had been doing a lot of thinking.

And he was pretty sure he’d figured out who the Stalker was after.

The resident magician in the Torrent Territories wasn’t a private woman. Her name was Caiya Ebony, and she was well-known for flashy performances and daring escapades. It was an open secret that the king paid her well to limit her excursions to Torrent and occasionally around Zariya.

It made perfect sense. Stalkers were once magicians, after all. Magicians who chased after the promise of power at the cost of the lives of those who were once their colleagues. They’d been named such because of the way they tended to track their targets, like a hunter stalking prey. Once a Stalker caught her target, she would consume the magician’s power… somehow… and become stronger.

And unlike magicians, Stalkers didn’t need to draw the runes to cast spells. They only needed to speak. Damian didn’t know how it worked, and it really didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was bait. Bait for Caiya.

His father would have sent his best soldiers and detectives on the case, but when it became clear the abduction was supernatural, he would turn to his magician. And that was what the Stalker wanted. And after that? Damian couldn’t guess. Certainly not a Draigo. The entire species had vanished almost overnight.

Whatever she wanted, Damian was smart enough to realize that he didn’t want her to get it. And if that meant he had to die here? Then so be it. Roland could have the throne.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the cell door opened. “Hello?” he whispered, the words scraping against his dry throat.

No response, only the gentle stirring of the air around him, disturbed by the open door and the Stalker’s movement. The only noise in the cell was her breathing.

“How long do you plan to starve me?” Damian demanded, voice raspy. He’d given up on screaming for help when it became glaringly obvious no one was around to hear him.

His captor still hadn’t closed the cell door. Instead, she moved from one side of the cell to the other. Despite the magical blindness, Damian’s eyes followed where he estimated her path to be, judging from the movement of the air and the sound of her footsteps and breathing.

“Please…” he murmured, “at least give me some water.”

The spell was jarring, the runes spoken with harsh tones. Damian flinched, expecting pain.

Nothing happened.

Without warning, something touched his head. “There,” the Stalker said softly, running her fingers through his hair, “was that so hard?”

He tensed, waiting for her to tug and yank him back until she let him fall.

“You know,” she continued, “for an heir, you’re not a polite guest.”

“I’m not your guest,” he hissed.

The Stalker’s hand paused mid-stroke. Damian gritted his teeth in anticipation. Knowing what was about to happen still didn’t prepare him enough for when her fingers curled, the nails digging into his scalp. “Call it what you like,” she snarled, “guest, prisoner, whatever. It doesn’t change your situation. It doesn’t change how helpless I’ve made you.”

Damian wanted to respond, to shoot back a cutting remark. But it wouldn’t make matters better. And she was right.

He was helpless.

And he hated the feeling more than anything.

As quickly as she’d appeared, the Stalker withdrew, slamming the cell door closed with such force the floor shook. Damian listened to her retreating footsteps as he fought to control his racing heart, the fear curling in his stomach like a parasite.

She was long gone when he realized he was no longer thirsty.

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds

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somber-sapphic · 1 year

Text

Prompt List

Just as the title says, a list of prompts! Have fun!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caretaker Sentence Starters:

1. “Oookay, you sure are delirious.”

2. “Just can’t shake that cough, huh?”

3. “Your complexion is scaring me, please sit down.”

4. “You’ve kept that cough through two colds and it sounds like you’re on your third.”

5. “Did you hide the thermometer from me?”

6. “How much medicine did you take?”

7. “You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, let's see that.”

8. “When you said you were sick I thought you meant a cold, not the damn plague!”

9. “Mm…I don’t think it’s just the sniffles this time honey.”

10. “Please stop wasting what's left of your voice on complaints about soup you can’t even taste.”

11. “I can tell you’re sicker than you’re letting on.”

12. “This is the third time I’ve had to put you back in bed, why the hell do you want to lie on the floor so badly?”

13. “I know you’re cold, but that blanket is gross now, you need a clean one, okay?”

14. “Hey, it’s just a dream, wake up.”

14. “You’re alright.”

16. “Are you okay?”

17. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m here.”

18. “Go back to sleep darling.”

19. “How can I help?”

20. “You’re not up to this, you can barely stand!”

21. “Go back to bed before you hurt yourself.”

22. “Oh, you sound way worse than you did yesterday. What happened?”

23. “You’ve gotta calm down for me, I can’t help unless you calm down.”

24. “Is the fever getting to you?”

25. “Still don’t feel up to eating?”

26. “I give you credit for lasting as long as you did, you were cooking in your own skin.”

27. “When was the last time you checked your temperature?”

28. “Are you feeling any better?”

29. “You really don’t look good…”

30. “Have you gotten any sleep?”

31. “You’ve been sick for how long? And you didn’t say anything because…?”

32. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

33. “I made you some tea, you need to stay hydrated.”

34. “I know you don’t feel well, but you have to eat – just something light.”

35. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this sick.”

36. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

37. “You really, really need to get some rest.”

38. “Your voice sounds like rocks scraping against sandpaper.”

39. “You look like death warmed over.”

Sickie Types (optional, but fun!!)

99.9% Immunity - they never get sick, right? Wrong.

Elephant in the Room - they’re sick, but for some reason, perhaps rank or personality, no one is talking about it. Until it gets bad.

Heroes Don’t Take Sick Days - there’s no time to rest when you have to save the world, so sickie has to push themselves even when miserable.

Insult to Injury - as if being injured wasn’t enough, now they’re getting sick too.

Ill Timed - it is the worst possible time for them to be sick, but their body didn’t get the memo.

Irreplaceable - they are the leader or the boss and aren’t able to take personal time off, even when they’re sick.

It’s Nothing - they insist they’re fine, right up until they collapse.

Medic Down - How do the other characters handle it when their usual caretaker is sick?

Milking It - if they’re sick, they’re at least going to get as much pampering out of it as they can.

Not a Word - sickie said they don’t get sick and isn’t in the mood for anyone to remind them while they recover.

Stepping Up - boss/leader is clearly miserable, so the others go out of their way to take as much of their workload as possible.

Suffer in Silence - for whatever reason, they don’t want anyone to know they’re sick and do everything they can to hide it.

Team Mom/Dad - the typical team Mom/Dad gets sick, leaving the others to scramble to take care of them.

Sickie Scenarios:

🥀Feeling so out of it, they need constant attention.

🌹Barefoot sleeping wanderings.

🪷Being let back to bed with patient whispers.

🌷Collapsing into someone’s waiting arms.

🌻Forehead kisses

🌼Being picked up

🌸Being called things like baby, sweetheart or honey

🌺Shaky hands

💐 Waking up either adorably confused or painfully scared

🌾Comfort after a nightmare

🪴Medicine

🍀Nap

☘️Hand holding

🌿Lullaby

🌴Reaching out for someone

🌳Bath

🐍Thermometer

🌵Fingers running through sweaty hair

Sickie Sentence Starters (hehe, alliteration)

1A“I don’t have time to sleep off a little cold.”

2A“I didn’t think it’d get this bad…”

3A“Shit. Did I wake you up?”

4A“It all hurts . . . so much. I just want it to be over already.”

5A“Why should you care?”

6A“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

7A“Hold my hand, please?”

8A“Relax, it’s just a cold.”

9A“Leave me alone.”

10A“Honestly, I’m fine.”

11A“I…I really don’t feel well.”

12A“Will you just hold me?”

13A“I wanna go home.”

14A“It’s a cough.”

15A“I am not taking my temperature.”

16A“My head hurts.”

17A“My throat just hurts too much.”

18A“Can I have some water? Please?”

19A“Can we cuddle?”

20A“m’ sleepy.”

21A“Everything’s fine, don’t worry about me.”

22A“Look, you worry about you, I’ll worry about me.”

23A“My god, you’re pushy.”

24A“Thank you. I’m sorry for being sick.”

25A“I don’t take medicine.”

26A“I’m NOT sick.”

#prompt list #sickfic prompts #caretaker prompts

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somnahypnosis · 5 months

Text

It’s funny, really, how pain affects the body long term.

Fabric suddenly becomes sandpaper and your loved ones, even with the gentlest of affection still hold you too tight, too much, and it hurts in more ways than physical.

It takes you a week to notice that pain in your foot wasn’t just because of the small cut but the shard of glass that had imbedded itself and grown infected because pain is normal, pain is to be acknowledged and ignored, pain walks side by side in every movement every breath every moment.

Not even in sleep do you find relief, the dreams that should be sanctuary only serve as reminder that oh, your bones can still crack, that voice grow hoarse with the endless internal monologue of “Please when will it end”.

Nights spent soaked in bathtubs that are more parts salt than liquid. Scents, oils, sounds from your cellphone as you distract yourself unsuccessfully rewatching the same show over and over and over because you’re too tired to try becoming attached to anything new.

It takes a single night of finally crying out, wailing in the dark begging to no one even though everyone is in the next room and it isn’t until you’ve collapsed that they finally come to see what was wrong and find that they don’t care. Call your mother. Let her handle it.

Six shots of lidocaine along the spine before you realize it doesn’t work and you walk back to an apartment, to a room that despite everything you try to keep neat, and stare at the wall until you finally fall asleep.

Years.

It takes years before doctors finally look at you sitting there on their tables and do more than scoff, blaming it on nerves, on insomnia, on hysteria.

And even then, there are still no answers.

You could keep going. Keep spending money on appointment and appointment just for the same answers and even when it seems you are on the brink you hesitate because what if. What if.

And so you reinvent your life for another day but no longer. You can’t predict the future. You can barely predict the present and it sits there like a corpse festering in your hands for the maggots and the decay and you eat it gratefully because it’s all you have and despite everything it somehow isn’t even close to the worst moment you’ve had.

Moments stolen away from birthdays, graduations, to silently slip away to a quiet corner to vomit all over yourself because you will not ruin this moment for the others you will not bring the attention to you.

And yet they find you on the floor anyway, barely conscious and disgusting and covered in your own sick.

But that is life.

You take your meds. They help.

You try to eat better and go outside and remember to sleep and exercise when you can.

You remind yourself that it’s not the world’s fault. It’s not even your fault, not really. You never asked for this.

You remind yourself that sixty years isn’t really that far away. You can make it that far, more if you want to. And there’s so much to do in the meantime.

Birthdays, graduations.

Weddings hopefully.

Seeing the littler ones grow up.

Seeing the older ones grow old.

It’s worth it.

Even now, even with pain.

It’s worth it.

#chronic illness #chronic pain #invisible illness #mental illness #mentally tired

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ygodmyy20 · 2 months

Text

WIP Teruki angst incoming. I will probably edit this later and will likely post a final version to ao3. But I wanna share the wip. I don't know why but I jusssst want to get it in the world.

What is he doing?

The rain pelts his skin as he watches Kageyama walk away with the body improvement club. Without their powers they are truly—

No.

He is truly alone.

Teru was defeated. In every sense of the word.

The rain runs down his bare back, tickling the space between his spine. He could not go home like this. He has to find clothes. Something. Anything. The walk to his apartment is not a short one.

He turns towards the fully built school and makes his way towards it, mud squelching between his toes. With each step, a weight pulls down his lungs. His throat tickles with a cough and his eyes start to burn.

He stops at the front door and opens it, the smacking of his bare feet echoing around him as he walks down the tiled hallway.

Not one locker out of place, not a single crack in the foundation. Kageyama rebuilt the entire school down to the tiniest stain on the wall. The smallest spec of dirt.

“And here I thought I could defeat him,” Teru mutters to himself, as he turns a corner to the gym. He snorts, rubbing a hand along the top of his head, the shaved part scraping his palm like sandpaper. “I’m such a fool.”

He opens the gym heading for his locker. He pulls it open, taking out his gym clothes and throws them on. He takes out his spare shoes, slipping them on quickly without socks (as he didn’t have any extras). His dirty toes wiggle uncomfortable in his sneakers.

But he embraces the discomfort. It is what he deserves after all.

Teru closes the locker and walks out of the school. As he exits, the rain starts to pelt him again. He doesn’t have an umbrella. He will be soaked by the time he gets home.

Teru pauses at the gate, eyes hazy as they stare down at the rain running down the sidewalk in little streams.

Home

His apartment. Where he will have to clean his own clothes. His shoes. Wash his hair. Somehow find something to eat. He is dangerously low on food.

Kageyama he… he probably has a family doesn’t he? Teru thinks as he picks up walking again.

A family who will help him get dry. Have dinner ready. Ask where he has been. Be concerned, be available, just be…

There for him.

Teru continues to trudge forward, letting his skin freeze and his ears burn, ignoring the stares. No one asks how he is, if he is okay, if he is hurt—even as his cheeks are stained with dried blood and his hair is leafing off his scalp.

He is but a pebble in a larger stream. He really was not the main character, was he? This is not his story, is it?

He really is..

No one.

The thought shadows into a knife like the one that cut off his hair, dragging into his chest. Seeping anxiety through his heart.

He is no one.

Is that really it then? He just succumbs to being no one, to become just a cog in a machine? Is that really the lesson here that Kageyama wants him to learn?

Why does that feel like the wrong answer?

He makes it to his apartment and he drags himself upstairs. He slides open the door, stepping inside and closes it behind him, cutting off the white noise of rain.

He stands in his genkan, blue eyes tracing the outline of the wood beneath his feet. His apartment is dark and silent. The only sound is the whirring of the fridge in the far corner.

“I’m home…” he whispers to himself as he takes off his gym shoes, now filled with mud.

He takes one step forward when suddenly, the last few hours catch up. Gravity grips him and Teru stumbles backwards, slamming into the front door before his legs give out and he slides to the floor. Lead replaces blood in his veins, weighing down his body into the cold tile.

His hand grips his mouth as acid lurches, his stomach heating up as he feels the bile start to rise. He chokes it down but the emotions remain.

I almost killed him….

A mix of a gasp and a sob rips from Terus throat as his nails dig into his cheeks, as if he can keep his stomach at bay.

He nearly took another’s life. For what? FOR WHAT??

Anger burns in his chest. At himself, at Kageyama for not fighting back, at the gang that left him, at the empty apartment, at the crack in the wall from the last time Claw attacked and and and and and and and and

A scream tears out of this throat, muffled by the hand that stays glued to his mouth. He curls forward into his knees, unable to keep them in—his entire foundation is gone. Flowing out to sea in pieces of broken glass. His fingers bleed as he tries to grab the shards, to pull them back in, to rebuild himself. It is a futile effort.

He gasps for breath, trying desperately to find air, but it catches in his windpipe, unable to properly inflate his lungs. Teru bites his hand, trying to find some semblance of control, of foundation, so he can at least stand back up.

Hyperventilating, he tries to breath through teeth clenched around skin, gasps echoing in his empty world. Gasping, dry heaving around the skin. His teeth draw blood.

And then, slowly, ever so slowly, the tension eases. He removes his hand from his mouth, letting it fall to the floor, a bite mark clear on the meaty side of his thumb. He breathes in deep, shudders, before stumbling to standing as he staggers to the bathroom.

He strips his clothes off, tossing them into the corner of the bedroom. He gets the bath started and starts to clean himself off with the shower. Like clockwork he moves through the motions.

And in the back of his mind he prays that of all the days, today is the day Claw leaves him be. That no one is watching.

Does Kageyama know about Claw? He thinks as he finishes his wash and moves to the bath. He sinks into the tub, hissing as water meets blisters and torn skin.

Did they ever attack him?

He lets himself soak, the tension from the day easing. But the heat (perhaps from the bath?) grows inside him, starting with his chest and moving into his forehead. Pain blossoms behind his eyes.

Would he understand?

He digs through the cabinets. Nothing but some instant ramen. He sighs, pulling it out and moving through the instructions.

Could we fight them together?

He finishes the ramen as the heat intensifies, like someone is pressing a hot rod to his skull. Teru groans as he fumbles his way to his bathroom, reaching under the sink to pull out a small first aid kit.

It’s covered in stickers, ones gathered over the years in a futile attempt to make this box hopeful. Perhaps it could replace the feeling of his mom kissing the scrape on his knee. A flicker of sunlight in a storm.

He scoffs, swearing under his breath as he pops the lid open and digs around it for what he needs.

Cold patch and extra strength tylenol.

He pops the medication, chasing it with a gulp of water, before he peels the patch and sticks it to his forehead. The cooling sensation is familiar. In a terrible sort of way.

Does Kageyama get sick like this…? No, probably not. He is too perfect amazing wonderful powerful to get fevers like I do.

He sinks under the covers, drawing the duvet up to his chin. Heaves in a breath and then…

Stares. Stares at the ceiling above him, tracing the well known cracks and stains. Stares until his eyes dry out and he has to blink to rehydrate them.

Sounds from around the apartment fill his ears. Some are so loud–have they always been this loud? Like the pipes in his walls, the white noise from the fridge, the AC turning on?

Others layer on top of it. The dog barking down the road. The cars running outside.

And in the distance, sounds of chatter from his neighbors. Likely having dinner. It’s a family with two little girls. Teru has said hello a handful of times.

The smell of frying fish and cooked rice wafts into his apartment.

Ah, yes. It is dinner time.

Another shudder of a sigh escapes his lips and Teru turns under his covers, now staring blankly at his wall. He reaches forward, his fingers pressing and patting around until they find it. The last one. The only one he kept.

It’s an old lion plush, once a bright cream color, now dull and orange. The stuffing pools in one leg, making it larger than the rest. The mane is patchy, bald spots dotting the little lion's head. Teru lets out a wet chuckle as his fingers wrap around the stuffed animal pulling it close to his chest. He feels so childish. But as his fingers press into soft fur, worn down through the years, it eases some of the tension inside him.

Unfortunately, they do not keep the flood of fever dreams at bay when he finally falls asleep.

#if you see any typos tho that are glaring let me know #but otherwise this is just to get it out of my system #not gonna do main tags cuz again this is like #so not edited yet #so draft #SO WIP #but I feel like I can't do anything else until I post it SO OKAY #teruki hanazawa

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