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ominous-auburn-orbs · 5 months

Note

Can you do a fanfic for Kinger and Caine's first kiss with mild NSFW

Here's some dialogue for help

Kinger: Wow.

Caine: Yeah.

Kinger: That was...intense.

Caine: Yeah.

This. This one was a struggle. But you were nice enough to give me dialogue. If you read my stuff for plot, there's not a lot of that to be found here lmao.

Also, same warnings as in the ask, slight NSFW, but it's basically just them semi-failing at making out like the sillies they are.

Kinger and Caine stood outside of the tent, watching the sunset. They held each other's hands, enjoying this moment of peace. Kinger eventually spoke up.

"Hey, Caine?" The ringmaster looked to him, immediately giving Kinger his undivided attention, although that was far from irregular. "This is our 7th date, right?"

"Indeed it is, my dear! It's sweet that you've been keeping count." It took a few moments, but the tone of Kinger's question started to sink in. "Wait, is something special meant to be happening? Is- does the 7th date hold a sort of significance? Was I meant to get you something specific? I-I'm so so sorry, my darling, I didn't-"

"No no no, you're fine!" Kinger chuckled, "There's nothing too important about the 7th date. At least, I don't remember there being. I was more referring to... our progress in our relationship."

"Why, whatever do you mean?"

"Well, we've been together for a little while now, and we, uh, haven't even kissed." His voice trailed off slightly. He knew he'd kissed people before, but all of those memories had a dream-like quality to them. He hadn't done much of anything romantic since he got stuck in the circus, so it felt like he was about to have his first kiss overall. It did make him feel rather self-conscious before it even began, worried that he'd do something wrong or embarrassing and ruin the moment.

"Oh. Yes, you're right, we haven't. I have done research on that, and kissing is allegedly a staple part of romantic relationships. But, I'm not quite sure how we'd go about it, considering our severe lack of lips." Caine chose not to admit that he had near to know idea on how to kiss someone, despite his extensive research. Very, very extensive.

Kinger brought Caine's hand to his cheek, requiring the ringmaster to fly in order to reach him. "How about we try anyway? Just use our collective knowledge, and... experiment, until we find something that feels right."

Caine felt heat spread across his gums. "A-alright, that sounds, uh, good. Very good."

Unsure, the two started to lean towards each other, Caine's teeth and eyes shut tight. Eventually, their faces touched, causing them to relax a bit more. Kinger moved the spot where his mouth would be against Caine's teeth. It did have a similar sensation to what kissing had felt like. Or perhaps he was remembering wrong. Either way, he loved it.

Caine opened his mouth partially, nibbling on Kinger's face, which was admittedly more pleasurable than he thought it would be, although the chess piece did have to hold in a laugh at the mental image of what their current situation would look like.

The ringmaster opened his mouth further. He remembered that he had read about how people would use their tongue to show more affection and passion, so he somewhat awkwardly ran his tongue across Kinger's 'mouth', which drew unexpected noises from both of them.

Since Caine didn't need to breathe and only God knew how Kinger's respiratory system worked, they continued this for a while. Saliva dripped down the front of Kinger's face, but he didn't care enough to stop. In an attempt to further chase the feeling of what he could only describe as his chest exploding from the inside, Caine bit Kinger's face, although harder than he intended.

"Ow-" Kinger pulled away, bringing a hand up to where he had been bit, but stopped before he touched it. There was no lasting mark on his wood, and the pain wasn't that bad. He started to think about how he wouldn't have minded Caine doing it again, but decided to leave that new feeling for another day.

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, my sweetness, are you okay?" Both of their faces were bright red and their collars were crumpled from where they had been grasping at each other to try and get closer.

The chess piece wiped at his face to clean off some of Caine's spit. "I-it's fine, I'm fine, I promise." Kinger put one of his hands on the ringmaster's shoulder and the other on his waist, while Caine encircle his 'neck' with his arms. "That was- it was a lot."

"Yes, a-a lot would be a good way of describing it." They continued to stand there in each other's embrace. Well, Kinger standing and Caine floating. "Did you like it, though?"

Kinger was silent for a moment before pressing his face to Caine's teeth. "Yes, I did. I'd love to do it again some time, sweetheart, if you don't mind."

Caine couldn't help but be flustered at the petname. Kinger knew how much of an effect it had on him. "O-oh! Ah, of- of course, yes, whatever you wish for, my dear."

#GUESS WHO ISN'T RE-READING THIS #it's me I'm not re-reading it #royalteeth #kinger x caine #caine x kinger #kingleader #this one's not my best but I still tried

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presidentbungus · 1 year

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“Well, in my medical opinion, the fact that you haven't eaten yet today is stupid.”

Engie chuckles at this—usually people laughing at things like this are being condescending, but something about him makes it hard to tell. Medic hopes that his face getting hotter is not reflected in any way externally.

Engie thinks for a second, smile quirking, and says: “You need a medical opinion to figure that?”

Okay, he was being condescending. Great thing to know.

… He is agreeing, though. Isn’t he?

“Good lord talking to you is like a puzzle,” Medic says, and he hopes that was an okay thing to say out loud. “Does that mean you’re going to eat?”

“Now, now. Never said that.”

“There is something wrong with you.”

“Could say the same,” Engie hums, smirking like he just told the best joke ever, which he obviously didn’t. “Hey, missing a meal now and again never killed anyone—“

“It did. Not eating is a statistically highly probable cause of death.”

Engie’s eyebrows knit together. He’s not mad yet, is he? “Well—“

“Some say that consuming food is actually required for your continued survival.”

Engie actually laughs for a really, really long time at this one, and Medic tries to ignore the various hormones rushing into his brain to tell him that is a very, very good thing.

“Jesus, fine. Fine! You got me! I'll eat.” It turns out there really is a fine line between laughing and coughing fits, at least applied to this specific context. Medic is rapidly becoming worried for the health of Engie’s respiratory system.

“Are you alright?”

Engie pounds on his chest with a fist, hacking up half a lung. “Yeah—hold on.”

“Take your time.”

“Appreciate—“ he wheezes—“your patience.”

#bird brains #science party #hi it's been like a year and a half since i posted a snippet. im like half back on my bullshit now so hopefully be able to post a bit more #bungus snippets #tf2 enginner #tf2 medic #tf2

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fayoftheforest · 1 year

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rating the main five based on how sickly i think they’d be <3

(AKA I’m on my fourth cold since september and if i have to suffer then so do my blorbos)

Stan: 4/10. He gets nauseous quite a lot, but that’s typically to do with his anxiety and less a stomach bug. When he does get sick, he will keep powering through his daily life as if nothing’s the matter, until some kind soul goes “Woah, dude, you don’t look so good,” upon which he will realise that he doesn’t feel so good either, and then he collapses into a heap and crawls into bed until he’s feeling better. He has asthma, so sometimes that makes respiratory-related illnesses stressful and potentially dangerous, but he’s got a reliable stock of inhalers, and 1+ very stressed out caretaker(s), so he’s alright in the end, and usually recovers pretty quickly.

Kyle: 8/10. With canon and fanon as my witness, I do declare that is one sickly motherfucker. From the first snowfall he’s sniffling, and it doesn’t stop until the last of it has melted. But shitty immune system be damned, this boy can work a cold denial! He will keep strutting around no matter how down bad he is, insisting that he’s fine, like he’s genuinely fine, like no that wasn’t a sneeze followed by a painful coughing fit, you must have misheard, and yes his nose has always been that red, that’s perfectly normal actually, and get your fucking hand away from his forehead he’s not FEVERISH he’s FINE. Once he’s finally been wrestled into bed, he will lay there feeling deeply sorry for himself and worrying that he’s going to infect his caretaker(s), until he gets sidetracked contemplating all the things he has left to do today, and before you know it he’s puttering about the house again, and the cycle continues.

Cartman: 3/10. He rarely gets ill, but you wouldn’t know it. It’d be too easy to dismiss him for a hypochondriac, but he knows exactly what he’s doing when he starts his woe-is-me speil over some suposed sickness. Over the years he has perfected faking illnesses into a fine art, to the point where unless you had good reason to be suspicious, you couldn’t separate his coughs, sneezes and general sickly presentation from the real deal. We’re talking Ferris Beuler level trickery here folks!! He generally abuses his talent to get out of school, work, or any unwanted responsibilities, but when the opportunity presents itself he will conveniently accidentally “sneeze” right on the back of germaphobic Kyle’s neck. Which is received about as well as you’d expect it to. (With rage, and threats of violence :)

Kenny: 6/10. The total opposite to Cartman, Kenny gets sick a little more than most, but is a master at concealing his illnesses. Kyle wishes he was on Kenny’s level. This guy could be on the brink of death and the only thing that would call attention to it is him ever so slightly clearing his throat, and then quietly apologising for it. If anyone does figure out that he’s sick, he won’t deny it, but he’ll certainly downplay it. He does not no how to handle sympathy directed his way, and reacts to any attempts at caring for him with awkward gratitude and a constant reminder that they really don’t have to be doing this right now. But, if shown just the right amount of kindness, he will break down sobbing because everything hurts and he’s just so exhausted and he misses being able to breath through his nose. After that he will fall asleep, and when he wakes up he’ll feel a bit better but extremely embarassed, and start apologising all over again.

Butters: 5/10. For once, he’s the most sensible of the bunch, because when he comes down with something, he’ll take a few days off until he’s back on his feet. But by god is he clingy when he’s sick. If you are not with him, he will be constantly texting you. If you are with him he will still be texting you because he may have lost his voice, but he’s still got plenty to tell you!! He also begins to feel very touch-starved, and becomes a lot more touchy-feely with others, which is welcomed by some, tolerated by others, and loathed by Kyle, because god fucking damn it Butters keep your icky germs away from him :(((

Anyway yeah those are my headcanons! I’d love to hear your own personal ratings too. Might make a part two for CATG if people are interested in my soft, loving sadism :)

#south park #headcanons #sp stan #sp kyle #sp cartman #sp kenny #sp butters #i'm so fucking tired of being ill i simply want to be well again #but failing that this is the next best thing :D

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feverishfatale · 2 years

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ERROR: 2848 (Sick)

I've officially fallen in love with the AI Iz/zy stuff I've seen around here lately!

—

"Edward! What in the world was that noise just now?"

Ed glanced up from the tablet screen, letting his eyes adjust back to the ambient glow of the ship rather than the harsh blue that made up all the auxiliary screens.

"What was what, mate?" He asked.

Stede frowned from where he had suddenly appeared in the captain's quarters.

"The … flickering."

"Flickering?"

"The lights. They seem to be out of order, somehow. I haven't seen anything like it on any ship I've encountered. One moment they were perfectly functional … and then–"

Stede broke off with a suspicious glance towards the ceiling. His eyes were practically boring holes in the upper paneling that ran along the ship and his mouth was set in a pout as he regarded the AI's wiring placement.

"Then, there was an absolutely awful noise and everything went dark for a moment or two."

"Ah, yeah." Ed huffed. "Makes sense, I suppose."

"It does?"

Stede looked even more off-put by the idea that the system failure was routine enough to be recognized, and Ed fought down a chuckle at his indignation.

"Yep." He shrugged, letting a few of the knots in his shoulders relax after hours of work on a screen no larger than his palm. "Happens sometimes."

"What exactly was it?" Stede asked pointedly.

"Iz must've sneezed."

"I'm sorry … did you just insinuate that IS-R43L, the AI who is functionally in charge of all the ship's mechanisms, can sneeze?"

Ed shrugged again.

"I mean, more or less, man. It isn't quite the same since he doesn't exactly have sinuses to clear or a respiratory tract like we know it, but it's still the same idea."

Stede only blinked.

Slowly, his eyes narrowed and he glanced back at the ceiling.

"He … sneezed."

Ed nodded, letting the tablet finally go dark and glancing upward himself at the silvery lines that traced all the ship's ceilings.

They were all glowing faintly, the pink luminescence bathing the room in a pleasing shade and providing a perfect atmosphere for the finicky system maintenance he had been doing before Stede had showed up.

The equipment didn't appear out of order upon first look … yet if Izzy had sneezed earlier.

"Hey, Iz?" Ed called out.

A pulsing flash from the lighting panels answered before Izzy's eerily raspy hum echoed through the room.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Everything alright?"

"Based on what parameters?" Izzy replied hoarsely. "There are several minor issues to be resolved, but nothing that compromises crucial systems or safety."

Ed ignored the slightly horrified look that Stede was shooting him at the casual conversation with the AI, instead stroking one hand down the nearest wall and letting the faint warmth it emitted soothe any lingering joint pains from hours of typing.

"How about temperature regulators, Iz?"

"They are satisfactory."

"For the crew's quarters or for your personal servers?"

There was an awkward pause as Izzy made a faint whirring in lieu of replying.

"Izzy, answer me." Ed repeated, putting a hint of command into his voice and pointedly pressing against the wall where his hand rested. "I really gotta know."

"The crew's quarters are satisfactory. My personal servers are … marginally overheated."

Even Stede frowned at the response.

Ed found himself copying the motion.

"Iz, full status report on your servers."

"Is that–"

"Yeah, it's necessary, mate."

A soft whuff of air rippled from the ship's air ventilation systems– the IS-R43L version of a sigh.

"Overall function is uncompromised, Captain." Izzy droned. "But there are several minor issues, like I reported earlier. It seems to be a technical problem that has resulted in temporary temperature fluctuations, increased air ventilation due to clogging of my ducts, and a reduced capacity for rapid calculation."

Ed frowned deeper at the admissions. While none were critical, it also was not ideal.

"You have the flu?" Stede blurted out in the sudden quiet.

"I do not." Izzy snipped back almost instantly. "I am incapable of contracting a human virus."

"Yet, somehow, you seem to have developed a fever, stuffy nose, and are fatigued."

"That is not an accurate paraphrasing of my report, guest crew member Bonnet."

"I don't know about that, mate." Edward said slowly, letting the dots connect in his mind. "Think he might be onto something."

Another whuff of air echoed from the vents. It felt oddly warm in the chilly air of the cabin.

"What time did the system errors pop up, Iz?"

"Approximately two and one quarter hours ago."

Ed nodded to himself.

"In that case, I gotta say it's probably my fault. That's about when I tried a new section of code."

"I am aware." Izzy droned.

"Do you think that's what made you get sick?"

"It is … possible."

Meaning it was the exact cause, but since it was Edward's actions, IS-R43L would never admit that it was the issue.

Another gust of air wooshed down from the ceiling, followed by a brief flicker of the lights and an oddly mechanical grinding noise.

"My apologies, Captain." Izzy said curtly.

"S'fine, Iz."

Ed carefully scooped the tablet back up, clicking at the new section of coding until it showed the error warning he had missed previously.

It showed a clearly flawed string of code. Not quite a fatal error, but enough of a malfunction that Izzy had to be miserable with the havoc it was wrecking on his system.

"Ah, Ed?" Stede asked pointedly.

"Yeah, mate?"

"What is plaguing IS-43L is not contagious, correct?"

"Huh?"

Ed glanced up from the screen again.

A brief whir sounded above his head as Izzy echoed the confused noise.

"Well, er, I just wanted to make sure." Stede shuffled in place awkwardly. "Since I wasn't aware an AI could even be ill."

"Nah, it's not contagious." Ed chuckled. "Just give me a sec."

Quickly, he tapped out a placeholder code and inserted it into the existing protocols. He made sure to permanently trash the previous error riddled section rather than let it be saved in any nook or cranny of Izzy's memory banks.

"And … here we go."

A brief flash of light filled the quarter's and another mechanical hum echoed loudly in the small space.

"That should feel better, yeah, Iz?"

"Much better, Captain." Izzy hummed, his vocal simulation sounding less strained even as it kept the usual hoarse undertone. "All systems appear to be functional again and negative effects are diminished significantly."

"Good, good."

Ed nodded at the tablet before carefully shelving it alongside the array of tools that kept IS-R43L in perfect order.

"That should take care of the sneezing too, mate." He added, nodding again at Stede.

"Oh, right, perfect. In that case." Stede stammered. "It truly frightened the crew. I believe there was talk of crashing into an asteroid or another disaster."

"Nah, Iz would never allow it. No matter how sick, he'd never put the ship into danger."

"That is rather reassuring."

"I suppose I ought to go let the crew know everything's alright, though." Ed continued, glancing at the open door to the hallway and the crew's quarters beyond. "Think it'll help 'em to know the bug is fixed."

Stede nodded eagerly.

"It would certainly help the overall morale!" He chirped.

"You okay if I go, Iz?" Ed called up to the ceiling. "Sure you're feeling better?"

"Of course, Captain. All parameters are restored."

"Cheers, mate."

Slowly, Ed stood and stretched, shaking off the hours of work with a long groan. He couldn't help but wonder how Izzy felt the sensation of muscle aches, even as he followed Stede out to the communal areas.

A question for another time.

#this is one of the odder things Ive written lately but it was so FUN #snz fic #snz fucker #snz #apologies for the sudden ending!

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unhindercd · 2 years

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Doing all the Ask Prompts Again this Time For a Different Lad

🍯 Food Headcanon

If something smells good, there is a good chance that Danny will give it a lick to see if it tastes as good as it smells.

🥛 Drink Headcanon

Despite almost being 200 years old he’s never learned to discern between blood humours and subsequently considers feeding a lucky dip in regards to the precise flavour of his meal.

🐢 Mental Health Headcanon

As a result of the trauma associated with his death and the isolation from the rest of the world both, mortal & kindred due to keeping himself hidden, Danny is prone to entering dissociative states where he’ll either clock out and disconnect from the situation or just stops being Danny. He refers both as being an element of Fish and refuses to see it as an issue.

🦄 Physical Health Headcanon & 😵 Sickness Headcanon

Before dying Danny grew up in the conditions of Victorian London, that in of itself probably says a lot. He was frequently exposed to toxins from the lack-luster sewage systems, restricted hygiene measures, and sooty acidic air.

Despite this - his health at time of death was good for the circumstances! He was the groups Artful Dodger, bringing in the lions share of goods, and subsequently maintained a healthy weight and alright health. He was a smoker though and his winnings got him the lions share of tobacco from the group as well, which can’t have done him many favours.

All this considered - he’s never suffered any major illness that’s knocked out of the game for longer than couple day or so. But that’s been down to luck more than anything else.

Were he revived however doctors would probably point at him and declare ‘Respiratory Issues’ due to the combination of effects from previously poor living conditions and smoking.

⌛ Sleep Headcanon

He’ll sleep anywhere. He’s even slept under his coat and nothing else when pressed. Regardless of where he’s snoozing, through instinct built up over centuries, he’ll make himself as small as possible.

💕 Love Headcanon

The first ever crush Danny had, and the only one he’d had prior to his embrace, was on rival boy outside of his crew. He does not recognize it as such. (Established via random rolls when I used him as a PC for a Things from The Flood oneshot.)

💣 Stress Headcanon

His standard stress response is to remove himself entirely from the situation. If he does not know how to deal with something or have a plan then he will withdraw, go into hiding, and avoid having to address the situation entirely.

🤲 Religious Headcanon

He’s really never gotten his head around it. Didn’t grow up in the habit of going to church or anything.

🏡 Home Headcanon

For many years after his death he would return to the place he’d been living beforehand. At first openly when the crew he’d been part of was still there. Later not so much. Once the building was gone he would still sometimes visit the location, sleeping during the day in the general vicinity out of a pang of sentimentality.

In general he deemed the whole of London his home, regardless of who’s hunting grounds he was meandering through. He’s never had claim to his own after all. So when you have none then all is fair game so long as you remain undetected.

🍬 Family Headcanon

His grandparents would of taken him in had they heard the news of his mothers death when it happened. But by the time the learned why correspondence from her had stopped he was lost amongst the system.

💼 Work Headcanon

Leo has him working as a courier alongside some of the Nossies of the domain - and he’s been quick to establish himself amongst those to have met him. If you need something, anything, from anywhere, you ask Fish.

So long as you understand the price will not be stated.

⛈️ Sadness Headcanon

On the surface it’s typically hard to tell if he’s sad or just zoned out. He’ll fidget and be busy with his hands but otherwise still. When sad it may seem like he’s being petulant and stubbornly ignoring people around him but really he just doesn’t know how to cope with negative emotions other than the linger in the melancholy till a distraction spawns.

😡 Anger Headcanon

With the short fuse flaw if Danny cannot remove or disconnect himself from a situation that’s angering or frustrating him then there is a good chance he will fly off the rails.

See his attack on Leo upon initially reuniting and finding himself NOT recognized immediately.

💩 Ridiculous Headcanon

He has been arrested before and before they could get him in the car he just vanished. He walked away obfuscated while the cops frantically looked around for where he’d run off to.

🌼 Happiness Headcanon

He is very excitable when happy yet unfocused on a task. He will ‘bounce slightly’ with a leg wiggle or shaking fists. Will get zoomy like a cat.

#ooc #about

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holdmecloser-gandydancer · 3 years

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team bonding

Taako dropped down onto the couch next to Lup and immediately draped his legs over her lap. He snorted to himself when he saw that one human on the team—Barney, he thought—look over at Lup with a soft, kinda goopy look. Gods above, the mission hadn’t even started and he couldn’t wait for it to be over.

The rest of the team slowly shuffled into the living area. The Institute had insisted on the seven of them all living in a shared apartment for the month leading up to the mission. Something about making sure the bond engine had enough fuel. Taako kinda thought that’s what the three months of training they’d been doing was for but hey, he wasn’t the expert on bond propulsion.

He scooted over slightly to give Lucretia a little more room to perch on the arm of the couch. Magnus sat on the floor, reclining slightly, and looking relaxed. Barclay (certainly that’s not his name, right? It’s been three months, he’s gotta get this. Barold? That’s not a name, Taako thought. It’s his name now, he decided after another moment of thought) leaned against the wall and glanced around the room. Merle commandeered the easy chair in the corner. Captain Davenport stood in front of the group, seemingly ready to give them all yet another rousing speech on the importance of their mission and of the importance of bonding during this time, yadda, yadda, yadda.

It wasn’t that Taako didn’t take the mission seriously, he just thought that everyone else seemed to take it a bit too seriously. He and Lup could probably power the bond engine by themselves, what good did it do making all of them live together for an extra month? Somehow he figured that being exposed to Merle’s snoring for an extra 30 days wouldn’t exactly improve group morale. It had barely been three days and Taako was ready to cast Mending on the dwarf’s entire respiratory system.

“Okay everyone, I think our flight simulation today went really well. I know we’re still hitting a few snags but I know that these next few weeks are really going to solidify us into a real team!” Davenport said, bouncing his gaze across the room. “Now, I think there are a couple more bonding exercises that have bee –“

Lup’s hand shoots into the air as she interrupts. “Hey, Dav, I wanted to circle back to what I asked in my interview.”

“Uh, you asked a lot of things in your interview, Lup. Remind me what you’re talking about?”

“Well, if we’re going to be a team, are we going to have some sick team uniforms?”

“Oh, she does raise a good point, Cap,” Taako said, lolling his head to give Davenport his full attention.

Davenport frowned and looked around. “There’s…there’s only seven of us,” he said slowly. “Do we really need uniforms?”

“I mean, nobody needs uniforms, they’re just cool,” Lup said, crossing her arms.

“What kinda uniforms are we talking? Because I think some matching coveralls might look cool,” Magnus said, suddenly seeming a little more interested in the conversation.

“Absolutely not, coveralls are far too utilitarian for me. What about some sick jackets? Like, ooh like some nice satin bomber jackets with ‘IPRE’ embroidered on the back?” Taako suggested, sitting up to engage in the conversation.

“Nah, what if we get capes? We’d look so badass with some capes!” Merle said, looking over at Magnus for support.

“I personally am vetoing capes, I think we’d all look ridiculous,” Davenport said, sitting down on the coffee table.

“Um, what about lab coats? Since we’re all scientists?”

“Speak for yourself, Barry!” Magnus said, shaking his head.

Barry, that’s it, Taako thought to himself.

“I think it’d be illegal if you put me in a lab coat,” Magnus continued, scooting closer to the circle that was forming.

“What about robes?”

Six heads swiveled to look at Lucretia, who blushed slightly at the sudden focus.

“Well, it feels very magicky but it’s also just kinda cool for those who either don’t do magic,” Lucretia motioned towards Magnus, who grinned. “Or those of us who don’t do it that often.”

“See, I like the idea of robes but I gotta say, I don’t know that I’d love driving in a robe. I feel like a jacket could be nice,” Davenport said with a shrug.

“Maybe a kind of military style jacket? Something with some cool pockets?” Merle offered.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Taako interrupted abruptly, putting a hand up. The other six looked at him quizzically. “Why can’t we just get both? Like I know that Captain and meathead might both feel a little better in jackets but I also know that me, Lup, and Bluejeans over there would rock some super spooky robes. But also, cha’boy wants options.”

Davenport seemed to mull this over for a moment. “We could probably find it in the budget…” he murmured aloud, the end of his tail twitching in thought. “Yeah, okay let’s try to get both!”

“What color?” Lucretia asked, a small smile forming on her face.

“Well, the official color palette of the Institute is ivory –“

“Oh definitely not any shade of white, please,” Barry interjected.

“Obsidian –“

“Boring!” Lup called out, laying back against the couch.

“Mauve, which I am personally opposed to. And crimson.”

“Crimson is mighty cool,” Taako relented, nodding at the rest of the group. Slowly, everyone began to nod.

Davenport smiled wide; he wasn’t prepared for this conversation but he had a feeling it’d have good consequences for the engine. “Alright, I’ll be sure to get us some red robes and jackets. Now, Barry, I think tonight’s your turn to cook?”

“Oh please gods no, I saw this man burn oatmeal this morning,” Lup blurted out. She sent Barry a meek, almost apologetic look. “No offense, dude.”

He shrugged and smiled, a gentle blush kissing his cheeks. “None taken.”

“Lup and I have a recipe for a real good soup. Everyone fall in, wash your hands, and get ready to cut a shit load of onions.” Taako stood up and waved everyone into the kitchen. Normally he hated other people in the kitchen with him, but he figured it probably couldn’t hurt to get that bond shit going while they all had time.

#taz #taz balance #tazb #ipre #taz fic #reese writes #the adventure zone #i just wanted to think about how they got their silly little robes!

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george-fabian-weasley · 4 years

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George Weasley — Wonder Part 2

PART 1: READ

Summary: Following George's perspective, follow on a journey where he realizes his feelings towards you is more than what best friends should feel.

Words: 3,893 word

Warnings ⚠ : Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: I try to be as vague as possible, so you can be whatever gender you like in this imagine! Have fun reading!

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

"I wonder."

George was lost in your eyes. As he hears every word that comes out of your lips, the only thing he heard was his heartbeat.

Strange, the rhythm was faster than usual. He watched you looking up, to get the tears back inside your system. You let out a forced chuckle, "Merlin, what's wrong with me." You muttered, yet George kept staring at you.

There was something bugging him. He wasn't sure what to call it.

Somehow, even without any light, you were glowing. Maybe it was from the rising moon or the little stars, but you were glowing.

At least to his eyes.

The glow highlighted all of your best features, kissing every single thing with a gentle light. If George didn't know any better, he'd think you took his breath away.

Merlin, you're stunningly beautiful.

"Did... Did he hurt you?" George found himself saying that, yet he kept on watching every little detail about you.

How come he never realized this before?

You shrugged, watching the rising moon. "He didn't. He wouldn't dare to hurt me. Blimey, I don't think he would even hurt a fly." You let out a small chuckle, smiling softly.

"Then why?" Was all that George could muster to say. He had to look away, or else he would drown himself looking at your eyes.

There's something about those eyes of yours, that he just couldn't help but admire. Is it the stunning color? Or the perfect eyelashes you have?

George has no bloody idea.

You turned to look at him, the night breeze started to come as your hair slightly moved following the breeze. "Why I tear up? Well, maybe because I know if I say anything to him about my feelings... The friendship I have with him might be jeopardized."

As you turn your head back to the view, George's eyes returned to see your facial side. If anything, the night breeze made you look so... Delicate. How your hair slightly moved backward following the breeze, how your eyes were closed to feel the wind, how there was a gentle smile painted on your lips.

"I'm sure he likes you too." He said, reaching his hand to pat your head, he does that whenever he wants to comfort you, but this time, it feels different.

It feels... much more intimate.

His heartbeat increased as his hand touched your hair, how soft it was. You laughed, "Yeah? And why so, Weasley?"

You turned to him expecting him to crack a smile, yet his face was serious. George couldn't find himself smiling, despite his fast heartbeat.

"Because any boy who doesn't see your worth, is not worth it."

He watched your face frowned in shock and the soft hue of red flowing through your cheeks. He watched your eyes flicking left and right to each of his eyes, seemingly to him you're trying to see if he's bluffing or not.

He chuckled, "What? You don't think I couldn't be serious, do you?" He let his hand fall to his sides again, and you blinked, before gently smiling, “But he’s worth it though.”

Something about that statement made his heart ache. Who the bloody hell is this buffoon and how much does he worth until he’s allowed to hurt you like this?

Before George could say anything, you both heard Fred’s shout from downstairs, “Oi, lads! Aren’t you going back to the common room? Come on then!”

You laughed at Fred’s annoyed voice, shaking your head as you stood up. You looked down at the still-sitting George and held out your hand, “Come on, or else he’s going to throw a tantrum.”

He held your hand, and suddenly his cold hand was warm. The warmness you radiated was enough to warm his rather large hand, and seemingly warm his heart as well.

As he stood up holding your hand, he felt that you were going to pull away, so he gripped your hand tighter. He then quietly put your intertwined hands inside his sweater pocket. From the corner of his eyes, he saw you getting flustered and seemingly red.

He didn’t know why he did what he did, but it felt right. So, so right.

“W-what about the broom and mop?” He heard you stutter out. With a flick of his finger, the broom and mop had moved by themselves, moved past them and to downstairs, passing through Fred whom you heard cursing in surprise, “Bloody hell-”

“Oh,” was all you could say. George chuckled and turned to you, “Let me borrow your hand for a second, mine was freezing.” Finally, he said something. You let out a small chuckle, “I can see that, it was bloody cold. I’m starting to suspect you’re a Slytherin.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, and you scoffed, “Don’t tell me you don’t get the joke?” George hummed a bit at that, he had to understand this one. Jokes are his main expertise. Yet, nothing came to mind. The blank face he had made you burst into laughter.

“Slytherin? Snakes? Snakes are cold-blooded? Cold hands?” you gave him hints, and then he gave you a ‘really?’ look, making you laugh more.

“That was a bad joke.” “Still works.”

That night, George couldn’t sleep. He kept turning sides here and there, closing his eyes as tight as he could, counting almost 300 sheep already, yet to no avail. “What’s wrong with me?” George muttered to himself, sighing afterward. He decided to go down to the common room, perhaps the warm fire could be his lullaby for the night.

He plopped to the couch right in front of the fireplace, the sound of crackling wood instantly brought him relaxation. He tried closing his eyes, perhaps he could sleep here for a while, to get those energies at least.

But no, somehow his mind won’t let him rest. George opened his eyes with a heavy sigh, at this point he had given up the idea of sleep. “Alright, George Weasley’s brain, what do you want to think about so bad until I can’t bloody sleep for it?” George muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

The idea of someone might come down and see him talking to himself in the middle of the night wasn’t George’s idea of a pleasant time.

As if answering his question, his mind wandered to you. He recalled the moments at the Astronomy Tower, the way you stunningly took his breath away.

George felt heat rushing up his cheeks, he touched the warm skin and blinked. Suddenly it clicked. With widened eyes, George stood up and paced back and forth the common room, muttering, “Oh no, no no no no no no no....”

But wait, these feelings are familiar. This isn’t the first time he felt like this for you. He has been feeling these feelings since, bloody hell, since-

“Since third year...” George mumbled in horror. The hands that were raking his hair stopped. The sudden epiphany had him frozen in both horror and shock. George plopped back to the couch by the fireplace, his mind was still processing the newfound information.

George Weasley may have changed the way he looked at you that night.

Daylight comes and George hasn’t blinked one sleep since the revelation. He was slurping his daily cup of coffee at the Great Hall when you came by, looking cheerful. “Ah, Meredith looking good today, eh?” Fred chirped, and you just grinned at him. “I had a good sleep last night.” You said, cheerfully picking up the things you want to eat.

It’s as if George and you had switched places.

George couldn’t stop looking at you, the way your cheeks glow by the sunlight that seeped through the windows of the Great Hall, the way you made a little dance whenever you taste something so good, the way you would furrow your eyebrows when you drink that warm tea.

Goodness, you’re stunning.

As if the time had stopped, George analyzed each and every one of your features, head to toe. And he started wondering. He wondered about many things, the way his mind was running at full speed now that he had his shot of coffee was not helping.

He wondered how soft is your hair, the pat on the head he gave you yesterday seemed to have slipped his mind. How soft is your hair, and how would it smell? How cozy would it smell when he sleeps behind you while hugging your waist, your back to his chest?

He wondered about your eyes. How tender would they be, looking at him as if he’s the only thing that matters on Earth? How would your eyes squint when he tickled your sides, and you were laughing, begging him to stop?

He wondered about your lips. How would it curl into a smile whenever he’s around? How would it feel, if your lips came in contact with his? How would it taste like, when you were passionately kissing each other, slowly tearing off each other’s clothes-

It was only when Ron accidentally slapped George’s head while running that he was snapped back to reality. George choked out his coffee, the impact was more than enough to spill out his guts. Fred who was watching quickly stood up and slapped Ron’s head back as payback, “Watch where you’re going, you git! He could’ve choked!”

“Merlin, are you alright, George?!!” You quickly stood up to his aid, rubbing his back to ease up his coughing. George couldn’t stop coughing, yet he nodded.

He was more flustered by the fact that your hand was rubbing his back continuously than his respiratory system being endangered.

When his coughing slowed down, he had a few stray tears on his cheeks. Merlin, his throat felt like burning. He quickly downed a glass of water, sighing in relief that he could breathe again.

Ron better fucking watch his pillows tonight for tarantulas.

“Blimey, George, thought I would lose you there for a bit.” You let a relieved laugh, still being next to him, slowly rubbing his back. George wouldn’t admit it, but your hand on his back felt so comfortable, and cozy.

You patted his back a couple more times before returning to your seat, before you halted, “George.”

He turned to you, blinking, “Yeah?”

You tilted your head as you looked at him, worry etched at your face, “Your face is red,” you shrugged suddenly, “But then again, you almost died.”

“Don’t scare us like that again! I was bloody worried that I’ll have to send a letter to Mum about your death!” Fred returned and smacked George’s arm. “You git, that’s all you’re worried about.” George deadpan, but the teasing smile on his lips was visible.

“Should we send you to the Hospital wing?” You asked, a little bit of concern was still there. George couldn’t hide his small tiny smile, his heart was buzzing with joy when you asked him that. “Worried much about me, Y/N?” George gave you a charming smile with a wink.

He watched as the red hue entered your cheeks, the soft shade of pink somehow made you look... cuter. You scoffed in surprise and had to look away for a second before looking back at him, “Wouldn’t want you to die and leave me taking care of Fred alone. “

“Hey!” Fred complained and you three laughed.

As if everything was in slow motion, George’s eyes darted to you as you laugh. The way your eyes crinkle, the way your lips stretch to form that wide smile, the sound of your laugh could brighten up his days for a week. And somehow with the soft pink blush on your cheeks, it makes you look much more charming.

Bloody hell, George sure did change the way he looked at you.

“Look! It’s snowing!” A first-year’s shout echoed throughout the hall, and everyone snapped their heads to the windows. Small white orbs of snow floating down from the sky to the ground. “Pretty early for snow days, huh?” Fred muttered, George nodded, it was a bit early. But you weren’t listening. You were growing excited by the second.

“It’s snowing! That means we could make snow angels! And have snowball fights!” Fred and George had forgotten how much you loved snows, and was reminded as they saw your twinkling eyes.

They slightly flinched when your head snapped to look at them, “Can we go on a midnight picnic this weekend? Please, please, please!” Once you gave them the puppy-dog eyes, they knew they lost.

“But it’s going to be freezing outside, Y/N.” Fred whined. “I have a heating mat mum bought when she went to a muggle city once! Please?”

George couldn’t help but to chuckle, you looked so adorable.

“Don’t use your puppy-dog eyes too long, Y/N. Soon people will know what kind of power you possess.” George playfully said as he glanced at Neville who sat beside you, he was staring at you with his mouth agape. You followed his eyes and laughed at Neville. You pat the lad’s shoulder and quickly whispering, “Don’t tell anyone!”

Poor Neville nodded eagerly.

The weekend soon arrived, and you were all set for the midnight picnic. George had bribed the house elves for food, you brought out the heating mat and extra blankets, and Fred brought all the jumpers he could find. Your go to place? Right in front of Hagrid’s hut, again.

“Thank you so much, Hagrid!” You said as you give the half-giant a hug. “Make sure you don’t get caught this time! Argus will not be fooled twice!” He warned you, before patting your head goodnight.

George arrived a few minutes later with baskets of food. “Where’s Freddie-O?” you asked. George shrugged, “Turns out he had detention with Snape and had forgotten about it. He’ll come around later.”

“Well, seems like it’s just the two of us tonight.” You sighed in content, watching the white mist came out from your mouth. George gave you a dazzling smile, “Who’s complaining?”

George was actually nervous for that night. It’s not like it’s the first time he had hung out with you, so he had no idea why. But ever since he had acknowledged his feelings towards you, he felt this fuzzy buzzy feeling in his stomach whenever you’re around. And he may have told you a little tiny lie about Fred.

George and Fred are twins, they know everything about each other. Fred was pretending to be oblivious the whole time, when he knew everything. Fred had given George a head-start, like he said, “Get it done before I’m there, or I’ll tell Y/N myself.” George was horrified to say the least, and Fred just scoffed, “You think you could hide things from me? Your twin? Your older brother?”

So, now that he's forced to confess, George Weasley had never felt so nervous.

It's been an hour since you both started the midnight picnic, you were munching a sandwich while laying down and George was taking a sip on his hot chocolate, courtesy to Hagrid. He glanced at your way, listening to every bit of your words about the stars on the dark sky. You looked so fascinated and George felt his heartbeat doubled in pace.

"Y/N." He called. You turned your head to him, still laying down, "What's up, Georgie?" A small smile was playing on his lips, and his eyes were tender as he looked at you, "I just realized I like someone." He saw your expression dropped for a second, before you quickly put up a smile.

...What was that?

"Who's the unlucky one?" You imitated his way of talking, like the time at Astronomy Tower. George picked it up quickly and chuckled, "Can't tell you just yet." You chuckled, "Then why bother telling me?"

"I need to let out something, like you said." George stopped laughing, but his lips still have that soft smile. You sat up and face him properly. Your knees met his, and you were giving him a supportive smile, despite your slowly breaking heart. "Tell me everything about them."

The sparkle in your eyes were gone, and George wondered why.

"Well, where do I start?" George muttered to himself, sighing. The mist escaped his lips and came in contact with your face. He looked down to his hands that rested on his lap, then his eyes darted to your hands. Swiftly, he took your right hand and begin to rub small circles on it.

At first, you were stunned. Then you figured he may need an additional support, thus your hand. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you feel his skin softly brush against yours.

"Whenever they're around, I feel as if they radiate this kind of soft and cheerful energy. The way their eyes sparkle when they talk about something that excites them, the sound of their laugh when something is funny, the way when the sunset light kissed their face, it makes them look much more ethereal." George laid word by word carefully, he couldn't look up to you, or else he'd blush his head off.

And because he didn't look at you, he didn't see your faltering smile.

He continued to play with your hand when he said, "They're playful; as I am, but they know when to stop and be serious, to listen to things. They know which words to give when they're comforting me, and they give the best hugs a tall lad like me could possibly ask for," He chuckled, the faint blush on his cheeks saturated.

And you had lost your smile. You begin to wonder if your hugs are even enough? Were you that playful that you couldn't be serious? Did you not give advice the right way before? Suddenly, the insecurities swarmed you, and you were choking up. With your eyes watery, you muttered, "Tell me more, George."

Oblivious of your heartbroken state, George continued with a wide smile, both of his hands holding tight on yours, "I wonder sometimes, how happy could I make them be, the way they make me happy? How wonderful would life be, if I could call them mine? And, I wonder if someday they want to be my partner for life."

It hurt your heart, seeing George looking so happy telling you about that someone he likes, oblivious and ignorant to your state. It pained you, that you wanted him to be happy, even if he's happy without you. You would be happy for him, but Bloody Merlin, why does it hurt so much?

"You know, Y/N, right before I close my eyes," One and two stray tears rolled down your cheeks.

"The only thing that's on my mind," Subconsciously, you squeezed his hand, trying so hard not to let out a sob.

"I've been dreaming that you feel it too," Wait, you?

"I wonder what it's like to be loved by you." Finally, George looked up to you, with a wide smile. But that smile was drained right after he took in your state. You were looking at him with wide eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, your mouth was agape.

"W...What?" You let out a whisper. George was quick to let go of your hand to cup your face, wiping away your tears, "W-were you crying? I... I didn't mean to make you cry, Y/N." He let out softly, his face contorted with concern and regret.

You were speechless, frozen. George gulped as he saw your state, and moved away slowly. "I... I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I am, so... sorry." George was breaking on the inside. In his mind, he thought you were crying in denial, that that was your rejection to him.

"Do... Do you like me?" Your whisper sounds so loud to George. George looked at you in embarrassment and shame, before looking away, "Yeah, I do. But I knew you wouldn't like me back, so it's fine I guess-"

He likes you... He likes you. He likes you!!!

"So, everything you say about them, you were... talking about me?" You were still trying to process everything. A few seconds ago, you were so ready getting your heart broken, and now you're just confused.

You remembered the way he talked about that someone, and your face grew red. The tears in your eyes had dried up, George.... George Weasley likes you?

"George," You called. George was upset, yet he responded, "Yeah?"

"When I cried just now, do you know why?" You said slowly, your heartbeat increases. George gave you a sad and pained smile, "Because you were shocked and you were denying me?" His broken voice pained you. You slowly moved in front of him on your knees, while he was sitting with his legs crossed. He watched your every movement, somehow even with red eyes you still looked beautiful.

You slowly reached for his arms, and put them to your waist. The way his hands hugged your inches perfectly made the butterflies in your stomach grew wild. You could see it in him, that he was having butterflies as well. "I was crying because..." You trailed off, bringing your hands to each side his face, something that you've been wanting to do for quite a while. He was looking up to you slightly, and he could see your pink blush.

"Because I was heartbroken that you were talking about someone else rather than me." George blinked a few times, his heartbeat increased its pace like never before, "C-come again?" He stuttered. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It made you chuckle as you painted a gentle smile on your lips, "I like you too, George. I always have."

Seeing how speechless you made him, you leaned down slightly, until your nose were touching. Your breaths, the cold mists hit both of your faces. You watched his eyes for a moment, before it lingered down to his lips. You watched him do the same to yours with a gulp.

"Kiss me, Weasley."

George's lips slowly formed a smile, "You don't have to ask me twice." And with that he leaned up and engulfed your lips with his. It was a soft kiss first, cautious and careful. And by time went on as you two got more comfortable, the kiss was hungry, passionate, just everything you could ask for. George's hands gripped tighter to your waist, engulfing more inches to pull your closer. You arms were wrapped around his head, hands playing with his hair, trying to take as much as you could.

Only when you need oxygen did you pull away, and even then George seemed eager for more as he stole a few pecks. Your heart was about to explode, bloody hell. George Weasley is a bloody good kisser.

Soon, you were on the ground with George hovering you, planting peppers of kisses onto your face. You were giggling non-stop, begging him to stop, yet you love the affection. Your heart swelled with joy. He stopped finally, but he stayed still, hovering you, taking in the view under him.

"Has anyone ever told you you're beautiful, Y/N?" He whispered, his smile mirroring yours perfectly. He was in euphoria, he had never felt so happy.

"Yeah," You grinned before leaning up to plant a soft kiss on his lips, "You have."

<COMPLETE!>

#georgeweasley #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george fabian weasley #fred and george #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfic #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fredweasley #fred gideon weasley #fred weasley #weasley #harry potter #harry potter imagines #george-fabian-weasley #wonder

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caramelfuzz · 3 years

Text

Sick Ai/zawa

Alright people, take the garbage man with a cold. I really wanted to make it erasermight so we’ve got an awkward All Might trying to take care of his disaster boyfriend.

It’s common knowledge among the UA faculty that Yagi Toshinori’s weakened physical state left him with a variety of vulnerabilities, most of which Aizawa Shouta became even more aware of once he began dating the man. Of these vulnerabilities, the increased susceptibility to sickness is what worries Aizawa the most. If he gets sick it inevitably goes straight to his chest, which causes even more severe respiratory issues. It’s frankly quite worrisome, even if Aizawa still has issues expressing his worry to the fragile man.

That’s why, the second Aizawa feels a prickle in his throat one night on patrol, he decides it would be best for him to go back to his own place instead of Toshinori’s as they’d planned.

He decides to forgo sending any form of message so he doesn’t have to lie to his boyfriend, instead opting to curl up in his sleeping bag and pray he’s being paranoid and that he’s not actually coming down with something.

When he awakens to a completely stuffed nose, a burning throat, and an incessant tickle in both he knows his prayers have gone unanswered.

He checks his phone, 4 texts and 2 missed calls from Toshi, great.

After an experimental sniff he finds his nose completely blocked, which won’t do at all.

Considering his options, Aizawa decides that avoiding Toshinori entirely would be the best plan of action. He would die of guilt if his simple head cold turned into bronchitis or pneumonia for the world’s symbol of peace.

“Hahh… Ih'CH-ISH! 'TSHIEW! Eh’nGXTCH’uh!”

He pitches miserably into his hands, wishing for a fleeting moment that he had the luxury of calling in sick. Nezu had requested that, short of the stomach flu, hospitalization, or death, no teacher is to miss class. There is far too much at stake for students to miss a day of learning. With that thought fresh in his mind, Aizawa drags himself out of bed to get ready for work.

As he walks toward his classroom he sees something flash in the corner of his eye. Crap, he’d recognize that hideous pinstriped suit anywhere. Before he can make any sort of escape, All Might, in all of his muscular glory, is in front of him. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Aizawa-kun, hello! Did you receive any of my messages last night?”

Aizawa stands frozen, unsure of what to do. If he speaks he’ll give himself away immediately, his voice is wrecked and it hasn’t even been a full day since he felt the cold coming on. He’ll have to find some sort of way out of this conversation that doesn’t involve speaking, breathing, or hurting Toshinori’s feelings.

Suddenly Midoriya comes bounding around the corner, panting and looking exceedingly concerned.

“Hey All Might! I, uh, need to talk to you?”

Toshinori, in his endlessly enthusiastic manner, whips around to face the young hero and bellows,

“What can I do for you, young Midoriya?”

Aizawa takes the opportunity and hurries away from them towards his classroom. He can’t hang out in the teacher’s lounge, not with the danger of his boyfriend going in there at any point during the day. If he were to cough or sneeze in that room he could potentially infect Toshinori if he went in there later.

He’s in desperate need of tissues, and considering how sore his nose already is, he feels a visit to pilfer some of Recovery Girl’s nice lotion-infused ones is in order.

****************

“What? Aizawa is sick?”

“Yes, and I would advise you to keep your distance or else you could catch it too, Toshinori. He only popped in for tissues earlier and he wouldn’t let me take his temperature but I’m positive that boy had a fever. Stubborn man.”

While Recovery Girl continues to complain about how stubborn the pro hero is, Toshinori can’t help but worry about his boyfriend. What if he tries to patrol while he’s sick? Recovery Girl said he had a fever earlier, what if he passes out somewhere?

He shakes the thoughts from his head. He realizes Shouta likely won’t allow him to come over and take care of him, but has to do something. Aizawa has already cared for him far too many times during their short relationship and he wants to repay the favor. There is something so intimate about taking care of an ailing partner that Toshinori doesn’t want to miss out on just because of his compromised immune system, so he devises a plan.

****************

By the end of the day Aizawa is ready to drop. His students can be a handful even when he is healthy, but with a raging head cold and a fever it’s a lot more difficult to deal with them. Not to mention the fact that he’s trying to suppress his symptoms so as not to infect his students on top of everything else.

“huh'EHSCCHH'uh! Ih'CHISSSH-xt! 'TSHIEWW! eh’nGXTCH’uh!”

He cringes at the unexpected sneezes, they’re getting harder to hold in. He’s walking home, shivering as the wind picks up. It looks like it might rain.

It does in fact rain, the sky opens up when he’s about 5 minutes from his apartment but he’s too exhausted to muster anything faster than a brisk walk which only shortens his journey by a minute or so.

When he arrives home all he can do is remove his wet scarf and curl up on the couch, pulling a thin afghan around himself as tightly as he can. He quickly drifts off as exhaustion takes over.

****************

Aizawa jolts from his half-sleep to a timid knock at his door. His first thought is that a villain had somehow found his place of residence, but it’s exceedingly unlikely for a villain to just knock on the door. Come to think of it, it’s exceedingly unlikely for anyone to visit him. Maybe it’s someone else’s door being knocked on. When the knocking persists, however, he clears his throat and tries to call out.

“I-ihh- I’mb cahh-cobigg,”

He rasps, grabbing onto his coffee table for support as he staggers through the living room. He grabs his scarf, it’s still wet but it will have to do, and approaches the door. His hitching breath forces him to detour to the tissue box.

“Godda sdihh-gh’hh! Ugh, sdeeze. Hh’mmph! Gktshhh! H’HCKCH!”

He dissolves into a coughing fit which he muffles into his arm as he approaches the door, not bothering to check who it is, which he immediately regrets when he sees a soaked Toshinori with two flu masks on his face.

Aizawa’s breath leaves his lungs and he staggers, feeling like he might pass out for a moment from the sheer shock of seeing Toshinori in such a state, why was he out in the cold rain? He can get really sick if he does that! He quickly comes back to his senses and ushers his boyfriend into his apartment, thoughts solely on getting Toshinori warm and dry as quickly as possible. He grabs a towel and begins to dab at his hair and arms, growing frustrated with himself as a sneeze builds within his sinuses and he’s forced to jerk away with a throat-wrenching triple.

“Hahh… Ih'CHISH! 'TSHIEWW! eh’nGXTCH’uh!”

He dabs at his nose with his scarf, once again turning his worried and exhausted gaze to the drowned rat he’s dating, only to see him with a mirrored expression.

“Aizawa? Shouta, I’m fine!”

Toshinori’s voice is muffled by the masks but still very audible, but his reassurance seems to fall on deaf ears. Aizawa is feverishly gathering an assortment of long sleeved shirts and thick socks and placing them onto the bed before them. Once he’s satisfied with his choices he starts to push his boyfriend toward the bathroom almost frantically.

“Warmb up, take a shower or sombethigg. You’ve got to be freezigg.”

“I’m really not,” Toshinori chuckles, pulling up his sleeve. Aizawa squints at his arm through blurry eyes, unsure of what he’s supposed to be looking at.

Upon closer inspection, it appears Toshinori is wearing thermals beneath his work clothes. It’s smart given how frail he’s become since his injury and Aizawa is relieved for a moment, but then he remembers that he’s a walking germ factory at the moment. He scrambles away from his boyfriend and shields his mouth with his damp scarf.

“Wh-what are you doigg h-hh-here, Toshi?”

“I heard you were sick so I brought things to take care of you. You don’t look so good, Shouta.”

“Who told you that? I’mb finde.”

“Then why are you avoiding me like the plague if not to avoid infecting me? I thought our relationship had been going well.”

He looks so sad and Aizawa feels his heart lurch at the knowledge that he is the cause of it, but he has to remind himself that this is ultimately for a good cause. He can’t infect the symbol of peace with his rotten head cold.

“I’mb finde. Just ndeed sombe space right ndow, that’s all. Could you still put ond sombethigg dry, please? Just ind case?”

Toshinori complies, selecting a pair of sweats and some socks from the pile and going to change. The moment Aizawa is alone in the room he coughs, keeping his face hidden in his scarf. His chest is much more congested than it was earlier and he’s once again reminded that he has to find a way to make his fragile boyfriend leave before he catches this.

When Toshinori emerges dressed in clothes just a little too big on him, his resolve almost breaks. His sweet boyfriend looks so cuddly like this and all he wants to do is snuggle up with him in bed and sleep for a year. A wrenching coughing fit forces him to double over into his scarf and he’s pulled out of his fantasy. He can’t do that.

When the coughing fit doesn’t let up Toshinori moves to pat his back, but Aizawa feels a small burst of panicked desperation course through him and he smacks his hand away with a bit more force than intended. He sees a small tear of hurt in the smaller man’s eyes and immediately regrets his split-second decision.

“I’mb-kff!-I’mb s-so sorry, Yagi-san.”

Toshinori’s heart breaks a little more at the sound of his boyfriend being so formal with him. Is this another tactic to drive him away so he won’t be infected? Or is it something worse?

He’d never been one to give up easily, though. He’s determined to go out with a bang. If Aizawa does want to break up Toshinori is at least determined to take care of him before he ends things.

Shouta drops his gaze to the floor guiltily, cold-dulled senses failing to pick up on Toshinori’s silent approach. He jerks when he feels a cool hand being pressed to his brow, looking up in shame at his boyfriend as he tuts gently at the heat. He doesn’t pull away, almost leaning into the cool touch before he stops himself.

Toshinori takes this as permission to speak freely.

“Now I know you’re worried about infecting me, which is why I'm wearing two masks, but if it will make you feel better you can wear one as well, I brought more.”

Aizawa snatches the offered mask and secures it over his mouth and nose before leaning away from his boyfriend to cough roughly.

“Are you going to let me take your temperature? I heard you were a bad patient for Recovery Girl earlier,”

Aizawa bites back a groan, so that’s how Toshi found him out.

He begrudgingly lifts the mask a bit, allowing his boyfriend to slip the device between his parted lips before shoving him toward the sink, aggressively miming hand washing. His boyfriend mimics his gestures in an equally exaggerated fashion, earning a weak chuckle from around the thermometer.

When it beeps, Aizawa yanks it away from his boyfriend’s reaching hands, shaking his head aggressively. At least Toshi looks amused instead of upset.

“You don’t want me to touch it again?”

Aizawa nods, squinting down at the blurry numbers flashing on the screen, 1… 107? No, that would be fatal. 100? The third number continues to evade him, which just goes to show that he probably has a fever, and he finds frustrated tears filling his eyes. Toshi sees his irritated squint and approaches his boyfriend, gently petting his hair as he peers over his shoulder.

“102.1, that’s not great, babe. Have you taken any medicine?”

Shouta ducks into his shoulder to stifle a harsh sneeze before shaking his head sheepishly. It’s honestly pathetic how incapable he is at taking care of himself and yet the school continues to entrust him with the lives of impressionable teenagers.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by a glass of water being pressed into his hand, but almost immediately after taking the glass the infernal tickle that has plagued him all day rears its head again.

“Hh’ghh… hah… ihh’hih!”

Before Toshinori can even process what is happening, Aizawa jerks to the side to sneeze, sloshing chilly water into his lap in the process,

“huh'EHSCCHH'uh! Ih'CHISSSH-xt! 'TSHIEWW! eh’nGXTCH’uh! Sdf! ‘Scuse be.”

He shivers violently and now it’s Toshinori’s turn to worry about keeping his boyfriend warm. He gathers a warm sweater and socks from the pile of clothing Aizawa had accumulated for him and returns to his boyfriend.

Shouta is desperately hacking into his sleeve when Toshi returns with the clothing and the few parts of his face that aren’t obscured by the mask or his hair are pink with exertion.

When he notices the worried presence looming before him he attempts to straighten up and appear healthy, but his lungs won’t grant him that luxury and he starts to cough again. He finally feels the urge die down along with a gush of phlegm in his mouth. Disgusted, he snatches the clothes from his boyfriend and stalks to the bathroom, ripping the mask off and spitting into the sink. He dons the mask once more to change his clothes, unwilling to breathe any of his germs on anything Toshi could potentially touch. He leaves his clothes in a damp heap on the bathroom floor but keeps his scarf wrapped around his neck. It’s still wet from the rain and causes goosebumps to break out on his skin. He dismisses the feeling with a single shiver and walks back out to his small living room.

Toshinori looks up from where he’s putting on the kettle and frowns, brows furrowing. It makes Shouta self conscious of his appearance. His nose tingles and he scrubs at it from over his mask to force the tickle away, a single hitch leaving his throat. He’s so focused on not sneezing that he doesn’t notice his boyfriend approach, again.

“Why are you still wearing that scarf? It’s all wet, Shouta. We both know you’d never let me wear something wet if I were sporting a head cold as bad as yours.”

He scolds softly, settling onto the couch and patting the cushion next to him. Aizawa hadn’t realized he was still standing, he must be more out of it than he thought.

The kettle sings from across the room and Toshinori gently guides Shouta to sit on the couch before going to turn it off. He returns with a mug of tea and a pack of medicine, which he presents to his boyfriend shyly. He’s usually the one being taken care of and it feels oddly intimate to take care of his boyfriend like this. Aizawa just stares at them blankly for a moment, another shiver wracking his thin frame. He takes them eventually and swallows the medicine before listing into Toshinori’s side, exhaustion creeping up his body.

“Sleep, Shouta.”

And he does.

#aa writes #i have finally gotten over my like three year long writers block apparently #and i'm currently obsessed over the garbage man again #i started this fic probably a year or so ago #the ending is a little rushed #i'm bad at endings tho #sick aizawa #aizawa sneeze #bnha

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 2 years

Text

Fading Falsehoods (Part 11)

It isn’t a comfortable thing to let the Avatar and his girlfriend tend to her. It leaves her feeling weaker than ever knowing that she has to rely on the mercy of those who’d send her off to her death.

She’s still a person, Zuko. We can’t just send her out there to die.

She watches him pour her a cup of tea. It does smell quite soothing. She thinks that it is wild cherry bark. He passes her the tea cup and she gives it a small sniff before holding it level with her lips.

“Go on.” He smiles, “try it.” He pours a glass for himself. “It’s really good, Air Nomads love it, its good for the respiratory system and it helps relax muscles. Also, Mai mentioned that you like cherries.”

Azula gives the cup a skeptical frown before ultimately deciding to give it a sip. She supposes that it isn’t terrible.

“Is the temperature comfortable?” He asks for the third time. And for the third time she tells him that it is fine. She puts her teacup to the side and dips her head under the water. Upon resurfacing she rubs the bubbles out of her eyes and readjusts her bathing suit straps.

“You ready for Katara then?”

Azula presses her lips firmly together, a familiar tickle working its way back into her tummy. She shifts and reaches for the teacup. Aang hands it to her and she takes another sip. Finally she brings herself to nod although she would rather not.

“Great, I’ll tell her that you’re ready.” He disappears through the door and, a few moments later, Katara enters in his place.

“Isn’t the Avatar coming back?” She asks, the fluttering grows worse.

“No, he’s starting on dinner.” Katara replies.

And those flutters grow worse still. She swallows. The water bender steps closer.

But fear isn’t a weakness she can afford right now so she grips the sides of the tub as Katara begins to bend the water around her.

It closes in around her.

And when it does the water no longer feels warm. It feels like ice on her skin, it feels like suffocation and failure. It feels like confinement and dread.

“You’re so tense.” Katara observes. “Try to relax.”

She grits her teeth. They always tell her to relax before ramming needles under her skin. They always tell her to just calm down when she is pinned to ground and struggling beneath some two-hundred pounds nurse. Just relax. And then the needle nips her skin. Just relax. And then she is dazed and dumb for hours.

Just relax.

Katara’s brows furrow. She dips her hand into the water. “Is this too cold for you?”

It is fine. She nods anyhow. Maybe if the water is too cold they will drain the tub and let her leave.

“Are you able to heat it up with your fire?”

Azula shrugs. She slides down the back of the tub until she is submerged to her chin. “Just…just finish.” She closes her eyes and squeezes her fists.

“This shouldn’t hurt, it might feel a little strange though.” Katara warns. Her voice is somehow distant. Azula nods anyhow. She feels the water shift around her and she remembers. Oh how vividly she remembers…

She shuts her eyes tighter, grits her teeth.

The water had closed in on her.

It was all around her and it was cold.

She couldn’t move.

But Katara could…

She couldn’t breathe.

She can’t breathe…

The water falls into its unbent state. “Are you alright?”

She’s not alright. She is drowning, suffocating. But her head is above the water.

“I-I’m going to go get Aang.”

She reaches out and catches Katara by the wrist. “No.” She shakes her head. “No, finish.” She have to get through this. They already think that she is weak. She isn’t afraid of them! She isn’t…

“Azula…” Her voice is so uncertain. And in its uncertainty she finds comfort.

“Finish.” Azula exhales. “I’m fine.”

Katara hesitates “Alright, tell me if you want me to stop.”

Azula allows herself to relax, at least just a little. She closes her eyes again and lets herself go distant–to that safe, empty place. To that deep quiet spot in her mind. To the place where she doesn’t feel, doesn’t think…

She finds herself a nice and cozy spot just on the very brink of it and she doesn’t re-emerge until the water settles once more.

“I’ll leave you alone so you can dry off.” Katara says. Azula waits for her to exit before rising from the tub, patting herself dry, and re-dressing herself. She wanders out of the bathroom and into the joint living area and kitchen.

“How do you feel?” Aang asks.

Azula finds herself a seat.

“Did the healing help?” Mai asks, “or are you still really stiff.”

Azula flexes her arms and legs, she supposes that they feel more flexible and durable. Of course the bar is quite low. “I suppose.” She replies at last.

“Good.” Mai replies.

“Well, dinner is all ready.” Aang gestures to the table. Katara takes her spot next to Aang and she finds her place next to Mai. Even if she hadn’t waited for everyone else to sit first she would have been able to find her spot with ease. Before her is more food than she can possibly eat, she hopes that the Avatar isn’t expecting her to finish everything.

.oOo.

“I think that it’ll be a good idea to do this for a few more days.” Aang suggests. “Or longer.”

Katara nods, “she’s still in pretty rough shape.” She pauses. “And isn’t just physical.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka asks.

“She…there was something, I don’t know, off. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Well, what was she doing?” Zuko asks.

“She was really tense.” Katara pauses. “Shaky. She didn’t like the water.”

“You were the one who defeated her by trapping her in a block of ice.” Mai shrugs. “She probably has an aversion to anything remotely similar.”

“So what?” Zuko rubs his face. “We just waif for her to heal on her own like we have been?”

Mai shakes her head, “believe me, Zuko, she’s aiming for a speedy recovery and if that means reliving a bad moment, she’ll do it.”

Suki wanders away from the table. The conversation is plenty discomforting. But no more discomforting that finding herself on the balcony with the princess. There is no point in turning around, not when Azula has already spared a look over her shoulder.

Suki offers a small wave. “Mai said that you were doing a little better tonight?”

“The standard is low.”

“Yeah…” Suki trails off. And she supposes that she hadn’t done anything to raise it. Not really. “I really was just trying to help.” She remarks. But she isn’t sure if it means anything at all or if she is just saying it to make herself feel better.

“You, the doctors, and Zuzu.”

Five words and she knows that it was just to make herself feel better. “If it means anything, I’m glad that Mai has been talking to you. It’s probably good to have a friend like that.”

To this she says nothing at all.

“I’m also glad that you’re…”

“What are you kissing my ass for?”

Between the uncharacteristically crass wording and the abruptness of her hostility, Suki finds herself physically staggering at the outburst. But then maybe it isn’t so uncharacteristic, she knows next to nothing about the princess other than the carefully curated glimpses that she had provided. And maybe it isn’t so abrupt. More likely, the animosity has been steadily building since their sparring match.

“Is it hard to believe that I don’t want you to be alone?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not trying to…suck up to you. I just want…”

“I’m not interested.”

“What?”

“In friendship. I’m not interested in making friends with any of you. Our association is a business partnership and nothing more.”

She supposes that she can appreciate her forwardness. “It doesn’t have to be. Why don’t you come inside and…”

Her fingers tighten around the railing. “Because then I’d have to be around all of you. Pitching myself over this balcony would feel more pleasant than sitting through another dinner with Zuko. Especially if he’s going to talk about how he’s such a kind and just Fire Lord.”

“I can come bring my food out here.” She tries.

Azula is silent again. Either the idea is too stupid to acknowledge or she doesn’t want to admit that she isn’t strictly opposed to company. Suki shakes her head and steps back inside. She looks around the table. Save for Mai, everyone is in good spirits. She looks back towards the balcony.

She decides to take a risk.

She picks up her plate and taps Mai’s shoulder…

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Suki #Azuki #Zuko #Mai #Fanfiction

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babymetaldoll · 4 years

Text

Getting down the germs (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Prompt: What if germs haven’t been discovered?

Summary: Spencer and Reader analyze a world where germs don’t exist, and how Reid’s life would be like...

Category: Fluff

Content Warning: none

Pairing: Spencer/Reader

Word count: 1.6K

Masterlist

- “I wonder how your life would be if germs had never been discovered”- (Y/N) thought out loud and gazed at Spencer, smiling playfully. They were waiting for their lunch in a small cafeteria they liked to go to whenever they had a slow paperwork day at the BAU. It felt almost unreal to be sharing a meal not thinking there was an unsub to catch in the next hour.

He hesitated for a second before answering. He was caught off guard by her smile, and for a second he forgot he could speak, words piling up in his tongue, not making his way from his lips. She made his brain turn into mush, that was a fact.

- “I don't understand how germs could never be discovered”- Spencer murmured a few seconds later.

Of all the answers he had in mind, which mostly referred to an endless amount of data and facts about germs, those words were the best he managed to say. (Y/N)'s smile had completely wiped off every functional brain cell he had.

- “Well, imagine all the things people haven't discovered yet”- she simply replied, and took a sip of her lemonade. Just like that, Spencer was left speechless.

All the things people haven't discovered yet. That was interesting, but though it was a thought Spencer could lose himself in for days and maybe weeks, at that minute all he could concentrate on was all the things he hadn't discovered yet, such as the taste of (Y/N)'s lips. Or how her warm skin could feel against his hand when he finally first touched her. He hadn't discovered how it would be to hold her hand. Just as simple as that. He lived in a world where germs existed, but all his dreams were a "what if".

- “That's overwhelming”- Spencer whispered, answering to (Y/N)'s earlier comment, and then looked down.

- “Would you shake people's hand if germs hadn't been discovered?”- his best friend asked, and her eyes didn't leave his. She felt how her whole body shook, staring at Spencer, but she couldn't stop doing it anyway. She didn't want to either, but it felt physically impossible to take her eyes from his. He was a magnet she couldn't move apart from.

It had been that way since day one, when the two of them started at the BAU, five years ago. They were both extremely young to be part of the elite of the FBI, but their abilities had put them where they belong. A few weeks into the job and Reid had finally managed to talk to her without stuttering. He wasn't good with people, especially with women. Least with a woman he found attractive. (Y/N) had no idea how to approach someone like Spencer. He had an IQ of 187, the guy could read 20.000 words per minute. She was dumb compared to him in any possible way. There was no way he could even notice her, so she did what anyone would do: she fell into the friendzone and stayed there for the next five years.

She was the girl he took to the museums every weekend, and he was the friend she crawled to random geek conventions. She loved to be there for him, even when it meant she was his best friend. (Y/N) knew Spencer had a thing for JJ when they first joined the BAU, they even were out on a date, but nothing came from it. It didn't matter to her anyway, she could see how Spencer looked at JJ, he never had those longing eyes when he talked to her. It was clear, she was just his best friend and JJ the object of his desires.

- “I don't know... I guess...”- Reid answered and (Y/N) nodded. Their food arrived and the two of them focused on their dishes for a few seconds. Silence fell between them, but it wasn’t awkward. It never was. They were perfectly comfortable in each other's company, being quiet wasn't something to worry about. They could perfectly spend a whole weekend in silence, reading, or watching movies.

Those were Spencer's favorite weekends, 'cos he didn't have to make his best effort to answer in a normal voice and like a normal human being each time (Y/N) talked to him.

Though he had managed to control himself and act normal when they were alone, inside Reid’s head there was in a deep and constant struggle. He knew he loved her. More than that: he was in love with her. And that was enough reason for him to act silly from time to time. Ok, all the time. He could ramble for hours when he talked to her, and it was worst 'cos she never cut him off, which meant he literally could go on, and on, and never shut up.

He was scared one day he could ramble for so long, he could end up telling her his true feelings. But he knew he was never going to have the guts to do it.

- “Why do germs freak you out so much?”- (Y/N) stopped eating. She was halfway into her salad, but she wasn't really enjoying it. The dressing wasn't real good. Besides, Spencer had gotten her a red velvet cupcake for breakfast, which had spoiled her appetite for the rest of the day.

- “We're estimated to have around 1,500 bacteria living on each square centimeter of skin on our hands, and although viruses don't set up shop on the skin the way bacteria do, the viruses that cause diarrhea and respiratory infections can hang around on the hands long enough to spread from person to person”

And Spencer hid behind what makes him feel secure the most: facts

- “It states that microorganisms known as pathogens or "germs" can lead to disease, they invade humans...”

- “But honey”- it gave him goosebumps each time (Y/N) called him that- “If you don't get sick from time to time, your immune system is gonna be as weak as the taste of this dressing.”

"Honey". It was just too sweet, too cute, too... endearing for him to handle. No one had ever called him a pet name before. Not her mother, not... anyone. Sure, JJ called him "Spence" from time to time, and some of her friends caught it as a BAU nickname, but it was nothing like being called "honey" by (Y/N). No, that was different. And when she used the whole "Honey bunny" surname to refer to him, he swore anyone could see him melt.

- “What if germs were the coolest thing on earth? and everybody was trying to get them?”- Spencer narrowed his eyes and made his best not to laugh. She was rambling on their way back to work, and for once he was glad to be the one listening to someone else rattle on.

- “What is it with you and germs today?”- he simply asked and chuckled lightly. He was happy that day. And he wanted to enjoy it before a case darkened his mind.

- “I don't know”- (Y/N) shrugged and smiled at him- “I guess I'm just... curious what is it with you and germs”

- “I just hate them”- Spencer answered looking at her, licking her ice cream- “You didn't finish your greens at lunch, you didn't earn that dessert”- he teased and she grinned

- “Want some?”- her words seemed to play with his mind, and make his cheek blush right away. He did, he wanted some. He wanted some so badly it ached him. So he didn't answer.

- “You didn't seem to be scared of Lila Archer's germs... we all saw you sharing your straw with her, among other things...”

- “(Y/N), that's...”- but he is flustered and his friend won't stop teasing him for it.

- “I don't have the cooties, but I know that won't make the difference 'cos she was half-naked and you were...”

And he snapped. He grabbed the ice cream cone from her hand and licked it all. His tongue traveled through every inch of sweet, tasting it and looking into (Y/N)'s eyes as he did. He had no idea what he was doing to her. She was having trouble keeping her thoughts in order, she had to remember they were on the street and that he was just her best friend in the world to stop herself from throwing herself to him.

Spencer had enough of the Lila teasing. It wasn't just this time, it has been years of listening to the same thing, over and over again. For a moment or two, he was almost sure (Y/N) was jealous, but after a few seconds, he remembered she was just his best friend having fun with him. That was it. So he grabbed the ice cream cone and lick it. It was his way to tell her he didn't care about her germs. In fact, he wanted to have her germs on him if it mean he could kiss her.

- “There! see? now we have the same cooties! end of the story”

(Y/N) held her ice cream cone again and licked it. Her best friend kept looking at her with the corner of his eyes.

- “So... germs exist, but you don't care about mine?”- she whispered after a few minutes. Her voice was almost untraceable, but Spencer knew that tone.

- “Germs exist and I hate them”- he explained and kept looking ahead- “But yours are ok...”

- “Oh...”- (Y/N) nodded and bit her lips, trying her best not to smile.

- “I mean... we've probably already shared them all, we've been friends for years, we can't keep track of everything we've done”

He can, he does. He knows. (Y/N) nodded her head again and continued eating her ice cream in silence until they reach the BAU again.

- “So my germs are ok then...”- she whispered and elbowed him as they waited for the elevator. Spencer chuckled looking down.

- “Yeah, your germs are alright.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfictions #spencer reid fanfics #criminal minds #one shots #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfictions #spencer reid fluff #matthew gray gubler fluff #spencer reid imagines #spencer x reader #doctor reid #babymetaldoll writes

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ladykatakuri · 3 years

Text

Alright, so there have been more then enough times that people would say that Echo is being mistreated by the Bad Batch and for some parts this seems to be the case indeed. He is not listened to as much as he deserves, especially considering everything he has been through and the knowledge he has. He has been used in ways that could only make his PTSD ( i am certain he suffers from this to at least a mediocre degree ) worse and he seems to be missing Rex a lot. To clarify, he is mis treated by the creators of the series the most in my opinion, but .....

When it comes to the sleeping arrangements we have seen i disagree that he is mistreated. When we saw the room of the guys back on Kamino, people tended to claim he is not considered a real part of the crew or is treated as not important enough to have his own bunk and that he has been reduced to someone who can sleep in a hammock.

But just take a good look at this guy! Before the Citadel he was just like all the other clones. A normal functioning guy who found a piece of individuality by having his own name and personality and who also added the hand print as a piece of his own unique armor. Then came the Citadel and he was taken by the Techno Union.

His body has been used and abused and altered so much. He has been plugged in into systems, lost limbs and has cybernetic implants and neural and respiratory systems. Sure, after all the care he has been given to restore to somewhat better health conditions on Kamino etc, there is still the fact that it can never be as easy to adjust to everything with an almost new body.mentally he is damaged and that is already something he will have to carry along non stop, but when you look at the placement of his implants, i can imagine that sleeping on a normal bunk would not be comfortable at all for him.Especially in the beginning i can imagine his replacment limbs would be painful at the very least, not to mention the implants on his head. He would need a special bunk that would have a matrass and pillow that would fully form to his body and implants to make it the least bit comfy for him to sleep in and a hammock seems to be the closes thing they could get for him that would do something like this. There is still pressure on the parts of his body, but i imagine that it is somewhat forming to his shape in a way that a normal bed does not.

Now I imagine that at some point, Tech and Echo worked together and have adjusted his implants and armor as much as they can to make it more comfy and perhaps they will come up with a way so that he can sleep normally on a bed ( some adjustments on the implants and perhaps on the materials he sleeps on and that he wears ). This sweetypie deserves a lot of love and care and his brothers will make sure he gets that ( and i include Crosshair with them as well because they better be getting him back with the crew !)

This was my little rant of the day and I would love to hear your opinion on it :D

@loth-wolffe @nahoney22 @hellothere-generalangsty

#Echo #TBB Echo #The Bad Batch #Echo deserves some lovin too !

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cullxtheherd · 3 years

Note

(I'm not an rp blog but I wanted to see how this would go with Jake or Heisenberg! Feel free to ignore this if you don't wanna do it 😅❤)

💆🏻+1

send me 💆🏻 + number to pamper or help out my muse.

↳ 1. brush or comb hair [🆇]

There are not many inside the gates of Saint Francis that are privy to the extent of his condition. Even less in Hope County as a whole and it has been weeks since he has visited the medical ward in his bunker. Now hacking, ragged and clinging to the edge of the bathroom sink he pays for his inability to care for himself despite knowing better.

He can hear Pratt rattling around behind him looking for the nebulizer they both know isn't there, "Giv-" Lungs a slogging, weighted mess he coughs until his cheeks are flushed and his lips pale. "Give 'er a rest, Staci."

Using the mounted mirror above the sink as a way to look Pratt in the eye he tries to catch his breath, "Make," He punctuates with inhales and exhales, "Arrangements. Bring the Ghh-"

This time he coughs until he unleashes a large, ruddy mouthful of partially clotted blood into the basin of the sink. A fine, crimson splattering of sputum clutches against the insides of his digits and palms, slogging as he opens the faucet to rinse off. It screams and bangs, summoning hot water from a heater several floors away. "Bring the God damned machine."

Though it is not at all hot and the windows are open providing sufficient cross ventilation he sweats, forehead shining and graying undershirt stubbornly stuck to the lines of his form. He struggles with his breathing at length, eyes closed and mouth agape, nostrils flaring.

"Hey."

A voice as gentle as the breeze spilling in startles him fully and he jumps, a knee smacking into the porcelain underbelly of the sink. "Dhh-" Jacob sways, feeling lightheaded as he coughs, once again deprived of air. "Dammit, Deputy."

One hand on the sink he watches her carefully from the corner mirror as he clutches the sides of the sink for support. Despite the trust he has put in his project and their training thus far, he does know her to be highly resourceful and unpredictable. "What are," His chest pops and rattles through a heavy inhale, "What are you doing?"

A more rust than metal stool is pulled over, bare peg-legs screaming against the peeling linoleum. "Sit," She fixes him roughly with a glare, "That's an order."

Jacob wants nothing more than to argue and spit vinegar, but his legs are shaking and, catching a side view of himself and his purpling lips in the mirror, he swallows a well of words that won't rise without agony.

The worn out seat groans when he deposits himself too-roughly and grimacing, "Don't generally," He pants, winded with the effort of righting himself, "Take orders from pissants, girl."

"And I don't generally help self righteous cunts, but there's a first for everything, dear."

He digs a canine into the side of his cheek, stopping a grin. "Fair enough, d-"

"I said shut up," Pointing the end of a washrag at him she does her best to look menacing, "And I mean it, ass-eyes."

That does make him grin but he puckers his lips, eyes boring a hole into the rounds of his undone, barely-on boots. Waving a hand he makes a motion of surrender before shifting in his spot to use the sink as a way to prop his exhausted body up.

She scrubs a warm, damp cloth against his face before reaching for the meager grooming tools he keeps in a cup on the sink. Carefully she starts on his beard, detangling the scraggly mess to which he winces and sucks in a breath in through his teeth with each snag. His mop is next, presumably, but by this time he is so in need of any kind of respiratory treatment that he sways, eyes sliding closed.

"It's alright," Words of encouragement were never passed between them in this manner or direction, but he is thankful that she senses the need for it, however fleeting. "I'll stay with you until Staci gets back with the lung."

Cold, familiar metal and plastic presses into the palm of his open hand on his knee and his brow aligns in hard, confused ridges, "Where-?"

"Relax," The comb moves against his bare scalp, catching the entirety of his do into a straight, sweaty line. "Found it at my place."

A thumb pops the cap and he shakes the inhaler, ready to prime the unit. "Must've," He's back to taking a breath between words, trying to spit it out before using the device, "Left it." A set of cool lips press to the crown of his dampened brow and he feels like crying; he doesn't feel he deserves this type of treatment.

It takes him a few, passing seconds to get the first dose into his respiratory system as the comb dredges through his matted mop again. Jacob isn't a man of many kind or romantic words, so he leans forward on the rickety stool, making it creak. Arms wrap, pulling her close and he presses chapped, discolored lips against the tattered fabric of her uniform.

#hi helloooo i love love loivveeereyouu for always sending me thingsskakskks #not only that but u are so kind and patient #i can not thank you enough 💜#also i had this done for a few days but every time i tried to proof read it???#fell asleep skskkdhsj #i hope this is okay!!#and i almost forgot!! i did want to answer this with Karl #i just dont know him that well yet aaaaaaa #s o o n #far cry 5 #jacob seed #jacob seed/female deputy

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norithepigeon · 2 years

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Update from the vet appointment today:

She said Nori appears to be in very good health and she thinks that because he’s young and just starting to try to court successfully he might have gotten excited and regurgitated a bit when biting my nose. I don’t know if this is accurate (it would make sense if it is true) but she encouraged me to come back if he starts showing symptoms like lethargy, lack of appetite, or diarrhea. I think she wanted to avoid what she deemed an unnecessary crop swab since he does not travel well and even an 8 minute drive made him very car sick, to the point where when he just looked in his mouth he was gagging a bit. She said his nose and throat looked clear, good physical condition, digestive tract and respiratory system sounded good. She trimmed his nails for me as well which I appreciate, as I do not have anyone to help me do it on my own. He didn’t bleed which is good. I will be monitoring his breath and looking out for other symptoms for the time being. We just bonded but I hope that getting a proper carrier that he has the ability to look out of and lots of patience and time will help him with the motion sickness issue. He went back to flirting with me through the cage bars after we got home so I’m hoping everything turns out alright.

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doodleimprovement · 3 years

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AHIT Victorian AU :: Act 2 :: A Realization Long Overdue

Lord Arelius finally has a breakthrough while the girls are sick - though it does, frankly, take a figurative slap to the face.

This is a longer one, folks <3

He couldn’t focus.

God, he couldn’t focus for anything or anyone.

He had contracts to renegotiate, people to contact, *things to do*

But his heart had been in his throat since the morning, when he was woken by Cecilia, telling him the girls had horrid fevers.

The flu. They had the flu.

There had been a small burst of infections in town, several people rendered bedridden but no deaths.

But no children had been infected. Not until Beatriz and Harriet.

Doctor Buonacci had been called immediately, with the physician telling them that the best that could be done was mitigating their symptoms and letting the virus take its course.

It hadn’t been what he wanted to hear, but he knew that if anyone was going to be honest with him, it would be the good doctor.

He stared down at the letter he was composing, a renegotiation with the house of lords concerning something-or-other that his jumbled brain couldn’t focus on. He brushed his hair back for what must have been the 10th time, and he stood up from his desk, grumbling “Damn it all”

There was a knock on the door, and his head whipped up “Come in”

Morgan pushed the door open “Uh, afternoon, m’lord”

He forced his shoulders to relax, he was used to such a conscious decision “Good afternoon, Morgan. Is something going on?”

“Missus Carlile is askin’ for ya. She says she need y’r help”

The Lord’s brow furrowed “alright” he answered, quickly clearing the papers on his desk “Tell her I will be right with her. Is she in the kitchen?” Morgan nodded before leaving down the hall.

He huffed at her sheepishness around him. Vanessa had really left her mark on the girl.

Putting his coat back on as he walked into the hall, a part of him wanted to veer left at the fork to check on the girls, but he resisted that want - an easy task that made him feel guilty - and walked right over to the kitchen’s side entrance.

“Cecilia?” He voiced as he opened the door, seeing her toiling over a pot of soup - the aroma alone making him feel sleepy and calm.

“Ah, there ya are!” She pointed her spoon at him “I need you to help me bring the girls somethin’ light to eat. The broth from this soup should be good for ‘em” She explained “Doc Bonnie said that addin’ pepper can help with their sinuses''

He smelled the slight spice in the air at her mention of it. “Harriet isn’t the biggest fan of pepper” he pointed out

“Which is why we’re not tellin’ her, and you’re helping me with it”

Well, he understood the logic there.

She filled two small bowls with the broth and handed one to him, along with a spoon

“M’lord, if I may..” Cecilia started

“As if i could ever stop you” he responded with a slight smirk. She smiled back.

“I know y’r worried about them” She continued “Morgan says you’re never sittin’ at your desk when she goes to you.”

“Well of course I’m worried” He argued “They’re just children. The flu is… well, it’s dangerous for everyone”

Cecilia gave him a knowing smile “Allow yourself the luxury of caring for them, Lord Lukas” She advised “You’ll feel better if you do”

A bit confused by her wise words, he didn’t get a chance to ask what she meant before she turned around and started for the double doors to the dining room - a more direct route to the girl’s room.

When they arrived, the only light was coming from half an open window. Harriet was half in-half out of the sheets, sleeping with her mouth open, a slight wheeze to her snore. Beatriz, meanwhile, was awake and staring at the ceiling, looking as if she hadn’t slept in days, despite the flu only hitting her this morning

“Hey there” Cecilia started, keeping her voice soft. Little Bow turned her head, raising her hand and waving a little bit. “How ya feeling?”

Bow’s expression - a slightly disgusted one - told the adults all they needed to know.

“Think you can drink some broth? You need to have somethin’ in your stomach. Doc Bonnie says its important” Cici explained “M’lord, can ye wake Harriet an’ see if she’ll have the broth?”

Lukas nodded, and placed the bowl on the side table, sitting carefully at the edge of the bed and cautiously reaching to her forehead, wiping her bangs away from her eyes. God, she was still burning up. He suppressed his worry once again, and quietly spoke

“Harriet? Can you wake up?” He requested, his hand going to her shoulder to shake her slightly.

She shifted, and stopped snoring, her eyes taking their time to open, she groaned a bit as she looked at him “Huh..?”

“Hello there, little fool” He brushed her hair back again “How are you feeling?”

She pouted, and responded with a pitiful whine, covering her eyes with her arm.

He chuckled a little “I know how that feels” he grabbed the broth “Are you able to sit up?”

Her eyes were watery, but she nodded and managed to sit up straight “M-m’cold…”

He frowned “I know you feel that way” He comforted, “Cecilia made you and Beatriz some warm broth to help” He glanced at Bow, watching Cici help Bow’s slightly shaking hands so that she didn’t spill.

He decided to copy her, and while Hattie still looked miserable, she did drink the broth. It spilled a bit, but he diligently used his kerchief to wipe her face.

“Does that feel better?” He asked, glancing at Bow, who was laying back down, and nodded at him. “Hattie?”

The girl just sniffled, leaning forward into his arm and groaning again. He chuckled just a little “I know, I know” he consoled, pulling her off and rubbing her arms “You’ll feel better soon”

She reached and grabbed his sleeve, tugging at it “C-can.. Stay..?”

He blinked “.. Stay?”

Bow turned on her side, looking half awake as Cici grabbed the now empty bowls. “... I’s lonely here” She admitted

The man blinked, his brain trying to catch up to the melty feeling going on in his chest.

Hattie’s hand gripped his sleeve a little tighter.

He took in a deep breath, and wiped at Hattie’s forehead again.

“I’ll be back” he told her, and watched as she let go of his sleeve, disappointment painting her features. “It’s okay.. I’ll be back”

He stood quickly, walking out of the room only to be stopped by Cici right outside the door, who was glaring at him with a disappointed frown.

“What are you doin’ Master Arelius?” She stared him down.

He didn’t respond at first, recalling what she’d said to him earlier

‘Give yourself the luxury of caring for them’

Well… He wasn’t getting any work done anyway.

“... Have my appointments cancelled” He announced to her, his head finally catching up to his heart.

“Shall I have Markus called in, Master?”

“... Yes”

She finally gives him a smile. “Hurry yourself then. Those girls need you”

Lukas nodded, determination set into his face and turning on his heel toward his own room.

He’d only be a minute

He returned to the girls room after a few minutes - seeing that Bow and Hattie were back to staring at the ceiling. A guilty feeling settling in his chest.

Enough, enough. You’re here now. Don’t linger on how long it took you.

He carefully came up to the side of the bed, Harriet catching his figure and looking up at him. She blinked tiredly, but reached out for him almost immediately.

Not hesitating, he reached back and pulled her up against him. Her feverish forehead pressed against his collarbone, and she let out a relieved sigh - his body running cold seeming to be a blessing for once.

Beatriz watched with some confusion in her eyes - she was seemingly much more aware than Harriet was.

Shifting Harriet over to one arm, he reached out to her with a questioning expression, keeping his voice calm and quiet.

“I’m not going anywhere”

That seemed to be exactly what she needed to hear, and she crawled herself out of the bed sheets and clung onto him like a koala, muttering a ‘thank you’ into his shirt as his arm when around her.

It took a little… finagling, but he eventually ended up in the middle of the bed, with Harriet on his right, and Beatriz on his left, the two girls curled up against him, Bow finally seeming relaxed enough to actually sleep. Harriet meanwhile, was about half awake, her breath wheezing slightly from her poor little respiratory system.

His hand gently rubbed her back “how are you feeling?” he whispered “Do you want some water?”

She shook her head, sniffling “..Why’r you here? Aren’t you- busy?” She asked, looking up at him with her tired eyes.

He let out a breath before answering “Because you and Bow need me” He answered succinctly “And you two are more important than a few letters and appointments. Those things can wait”

Her tired expression seemed surprised, but then it melted into an exhausted, but unmistakably happy smile as she readjusted herself to be more comfortable.

“Mmh… Mist’r Conners is right” She muttered, finally seeming to start to fall asleep. “Y’r a good papa..”

Just as her eyes closed, his heart stopped for a moment, before it started thudding in his chest.

Papa

Father. She said that he was a good… Father

His heart nearly overwhelmed him,and his vision blurred. He held the girls a little tighter

“.. Papa, huh?” he whispered, taking in a deep breath.

Those papers at the corner of his desk needed mailing as soon as they were recovered, then.

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helennorvilles · 3 years

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fic: don’t think twice, it’s alright

summary: the doctor just wants him to pay. the master just wants to show her a different path of revenge.

prompt is from the febuwhump prompts for day 27: “i wish i had never given you a chance”. this is short, not even 700 words, but does feature a bit of dark and angsty doctor. includes major character death, but not the doctor or master.

The Doctor threw herself at him, and he fell to the floor, her entire weight on top of him and her hands tight around his throat. “I wish I had never given you a chance. I wish I’d never stopped your execution. I wish I’d never wasted decades of my life trying to fix you. I wish I’d admitted that you were a lost cause and stopped you centuries ago, saving every one of those lives!”

The Master beneath her was still conscious, eyes watery as he blearily peered up at her, and face so desperately sad and accepting that it made her squeeze harder. Strangulation was a terrible way to try and kill a Time Lord. They had a respiratory bypass system and it took a long time for it to finally give up, but she didn’t care because as long as her hands were around his throat, tight and unforgiving, he was under her control.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” she growled, nails digging in now. “Why?!”

A smile crossed his lips and through a sob she pulled her hands back. She didn’t move from where she’d straddled his waist, but she did watch as he spluttered a moment, coughing and as he rubbed against his throat with a shaking hand. There were clear marks of her hands, dark and bruising, but it didn’t make her feel any better now.

Nothing would.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said softly.

She spluttered herself now, unknown words aching to leave her lips as the sobs wracked her body much deeper and keener now. His hands reached out for her face, gentle but firm as he cupped it, and she shook her head against his hold. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

He wouldn’t shut up, why wouldn’t he shut up? She didn’t care that he was sorry! Yaz was dead and it was all because of him. He’d dragged them to this planet, he’d separated them, he distracted the Doctor with his latest scheme while the inhabitants of the planet murdered Yaz.

She must have been babbling it all out loud. She didn’t care. She meant every word. He was quiet though, hands still on her face. “I’ll help you,” he said over her. “We can do this together, yes?”

The Doctor shook her head, indignant, exhausted, terrified, angry. He managed to sit up enough to rearrange them, so she was pushed from atop him to half-kneel, half-sit at his side, her legs sprawled beneath her with the Master sat up further, finally kneeling beside her.

He grabbed her hands, squeezing them in some attempt at comfort as he spoke. She tried to tune him out, letting the words drift over her, too caught up in her own grief, but he was determined, and they soon sounded sweet on his tongue.

“We’ll destroy them all, I promise. We’ll burn this planet to the ground, we’ll avenge Yaz. I will do this with you.”

We, we, we. The words slipped from his lips easy and familiar, and she laughed darkly. It was all so familiar.

“We can kill them all,” he continued. “Let me help you.”

The Doctor huffed through another laugh, and squeezed his hands back. He smiled at that, far warmer and kinder than one should smile when offering to help destroy a whole planet.

This wasn’t something the Doctor did, or even allowed herself to consider on the worse of days. But Yaz was dead and gone, and the Master was here and he was right! They needed to be punished! She would do this. He would help her.

“Come on, love,” he said, one foot poised to stand up. He would wait for her, apparently. She shifted and they both got to their feet, hands gripped tight together the whole time. “Where do you want to begin?”

#thirteenth doctor #dhawan!master #thoschei #spydoc #best enemies #dw fic #dw #writing tag #fic tag #my post tag #this is that fic i was talking about maybe posting early the other day - idk if ill do more prompts but this was fun to write #i knocked it out in one arvo so you Know i was feeling it

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excitedlysuffering · 4 years

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Quarantine Headcanons: Akatsuki Edition

I didn’t add Zetsu and Tobi cuz I don’t really know much about them🥴 anyways hope you enjoy this midnight post❤️

Pein~

• Oh, he’s ready to cry

• Even though he’s always holed up in his office anyways, all the members of his organization are not usually under the same roof

• After three days he’s seriously contemplating killing the whole group and starting fresh with a less chaotic group

• Thank Jashin for Konan

• He gets his work done a lot sooner since he has no meetings or missions to distract him

• Probably ends up with a few new piercings just cuz he’s that bored

• He loses count how many times he redoes his nails, just for some sort of stimulation

• Not like any disease could kill him so what’s the point of this again??

• Overall, his coping skills are practically non-existent

Konan~

• She’s not overly upset

• She knows how to avoid the stifling testosterone and put an end to conflict

• She bakes a lot at first to pass the time and learn something new

• That only lasts a little over a week before she gets bored (much to everyone’s dismay)

• Does TONS of origami

• Takes the time to learn extremely advanced designs she’d always been too busy for

• A lot of time spent with relaxing with Pein

• She kinda gives up on her nails for the time being

• No one’s going to marvel at them before they die, so what’s the point?

• She is okay with the quarantine but does struggle a little

Itachi~

• He’s worried

• He already has a respiratory disease, he does not need another one

• He plans on dying because of Sasuke, not some hyped up flu

• Is extremely careful

• Masks, gloves, sanitizer, and Lysol everywhere

• Germaphobe™

• If he can, he’ll stay in his room as much as possible

• That one stickler that is like “dId YoU wAsH yOuR hAnDs?”

• He’s usually so calm and collected, but he turns into a frantic hoarder

• Food, toilet paper, and everything he could need all in his room

• Did someone just cough twice?

• That person wakes up in an isolated room where they are locked in for 72 hrs

• His nails go to crap cause he bites them incessantly nowadays

• Poor Itachi is just miserable the whole time

Kisame~

• He has a healthy level of fear

• He’s not going to town every day and exposing himself to it, but he won’t stay completely isolated like his partner

• Really doesn’t care for everyone’s over the top reactions

• He realllyyyy hates being surrounded by all the conflicts amongst the team

• He def misses Itachi since his partner is literally avoiding everything that breathes

• Has to sneak to feed Samehada using his team’s chakra

• Spends a lot of time at the nearby lake since his spot is open

• Kinda confused what the hype is about

• ‘Most people don’t die, get over it’ type of attitude

• He won’t care and no one can make him care

• Okay, but he’s half-shark are human diseases really a problem for him?

• Kisame is chill is nails stay impeccable

• He’s doing alright

Kakuzu~

• Oh, he’s pissed

• He can’t go on missions and he can’t earn money

• Plus, his dramatic teammates destroying things costing him extra money

• Definitely has a few of Hidan’s body parts laying around

• “If you leave me alone you can have them back”

• At first, he’s okay

• He counts his money all day in self-isolation

• But except for losing money, his finances are stagnant

• He actually gets BORED of counting money. Quarantine is that bad

• He fights Hidan a lot so he can have something to do

• Lots of decapitation

• He makes someone else do his nails he has no patience left

• He copes better than most, but still has a bit of a hard time

Hidan~

• This annoying mofo

• He’s excited

• Spends sooooo much time praying to Jashin

• He tries so hard to convert the others that as soon as they see him they hide

• It only took two days for him to realize it’ll be harder to find sacrifices

• Definitely tries to sacrifice Deidara

• “C’mon, gender-bend, don’t you want to finally be useful?!”

•’He’s not so excited anymore after about a week

• Is more irritable and confrontational

• Being stuck in close confines with someone who likes to decapitate you for weeks tends to do that to a person

• This masochistic boi. He really exposes himself to it

• Wants to feel the pAiN

• This time Itachi cuts him up (full hazmat suit donned ofc)

• He ends up locking himself in his room

• Spends A LOT of time with Jashin because he knows he’s going crazy

• A stir-crazy Hidan is a more dangerous than usual Hidan

• He honestly has whole conversations with EACH INDIVIDUAL NAIL as he paints them

•He is 100% suffering the whole time

Sasori~

• “Wait, we’ve been under quarantine for a week?”

• Sasori is always self quarantined in his room working on puppets and avoiding the idiots he surrounded with

• He’s happy at first

• He literally doesn’t have to leave his room for anything

• That turns to dread real quick

• Deidara gets bored very easily and there are holes in his bedroom walls and destroyed puppets to prove it

• A little bit of poison puts an end to that problem

• No one really sees much of him during the quarantine

• “Hey… I haven’t seen Sasori in like a month. Is he even alive??”

• You know he collects bodies of the shinobi that died for new puppets

• He’s not scared in the slightest

• He doesn’t have a respiratory system so no worries there

• His nails are probably a new color everyday despite the fact that no one ever sees them

• Oh Sasori is thriving and surviving like nobodies businessss

Deidara~

• Ha! qUaRaNtInE!

• If Deidara wants to leave the base, you’d best believe he will leave the base sauntering out like a true diva

• No one wants to stop him tho

• Deidara doesn’t give two flying fricks if he’s inside or not, he will make ART

• Oh he’s extra chaotic

• Pranks 24/7

• Almost scares Itachi to death waltzing into his room coughing like he’s about to die

• Sasori realizes his puppets are going missing one by one and his poison is… juice?

• Deidara goes missing too

• Pein literally makes him leave for a week

• He destroyed a city so he’s back now

• He literally doesn’t care

• He’s a teen, no flu will kill him

• Goes out of his way to cause trouble

• Until he sees how actually panicked some of his teammates are

• He actually helps out, buying supplies and running a few errands here and there

• Actually takes time to decorate his nails. Explosions painted on and everything

• He’s two steps away from a bedazzled straight jacket and a padded room by the time this is over

#akatsuki #deidara #sasori #pein #konan #hidan #kakuzu #itachi #kisame #quarantine #headcanon #naruto scenarios

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