#sorry anon if this is shit but i have a fever and this is the best i can do but i loved the request so much that i had to write it asap

[brookheimer]

It makes sense for them to include the pregnancy plot line but it doesn’t make it good or revolutionary and I think that’s such a shallow take on the situation. Her entire storyline has been the whole “if only she was a man” thing, where her main plot lines have been hating other woman, fighting with her husband, and now being pregnant. If the only thing we end up knowing about Shiv’s desires and life revolve around her child, that’s not revolutionary at all. Kendall has kids, but he is also a fully fleshed out character that can exist outside of that. Acting like “strong girlboss lead who has never accomplished anything in the show and is reminded of how her womanhood limits everything she does has to reconcile the way her body and ability to become pregnant can also be weaponized against her” is actually a fucked up storyline. It doesn’t make it bad, the entire show is a fucked up storyline, but it’s not some beautiful win for feminism

wooooah okay i was not at all saying her entire desires and life would revolve around her kid but rather that being pregnant forces her to self-reflect on the fact that she is not, in fact, a man, which would likely have important implications for her relationships with both the men and the women in her life, help us understand her interiority better (which right now we don't because she's always been very very dedicated to convincing herself she's something she isn't -- it would help HER understand her interiority better too), and overall just be kind of the catalyst for introspection in a way shiv hasn't been, like, provoked to do before. also i'm not saying it's inherently good or revolutionary just because they included a pregnancy plot! i'm saying that it has the POTENTIAL TO BE, which it does.

as always under the mf cut

'“strong girlboss lead who has never accomplished anything in the show and is reminded of how her womanhood limits everything she does has to reconcile the way her body and ability to become pregnant can also be weaponized against her” is actually a fucked up storyline' .....i don't understand. for one thing, i did not say jackshit about her pregnancy being weaponized against her. that is not at all what i was saying she had to reconcile with. i was saying she had to reconcile with the fact that she simply will not be seen as a man, and that maybe that's okay, and maybe she can still be a ~girlboss~ while still yknow being a girl. why are yall acting like pregnancy is this inherently agency-robbing thing that only exists to ruin the characterizations of strong women? you do know that it exists in real life, right? like, is this what you think about women who are pregnant in real life? because, like, everything you just described is just... i mean, that's not unique to this plot point. that's just part and parcel of being born with a womb. that's just fucking LIFE. that's just how shit IS sometimes. like YES you can be a strong girlboss and still not accomplish anything because a) you're a woman surrounded by men b) you're desperately attempting to act like a man and in reality are only performing a parody of 'masculinity' that's more harmful to you than it is helpful, but you feel it's the only way to survive, YES your womanhood limits everything you does (so long as 'everything' means 'success in your male-dominated career aspirations among your misogynistic family'), YES your body and ability to become pregnant can be weaponized. that's not inherently a fucked up sexist plotline? that's just how life is for a lot of women???? so why the fuck is it bad to show a woman struggling to reconcile with that FACT because it is a fucking FACT?! it is a FACT that women are judged for being pregnant!!! it is not a fucked up plotline to acknowledge that!!!!! what WOULD BE fucked up is centering her entire character around becoming a mother or something, which i just really fucking doubt they'll do. instead, i think it'll be used as a way to explore parts of shiv we haven't seen.

also, saying shiv's main plot lines have been "hating other women, fighting with her husband, and now being pregnant" .... like. i don't know man. did you kind of forget the part where she was a political consultant or fighting to become ceo of a major conglomerate or something? i would maybe argue that... well, that fighting to become ceo of waystar is her main plot line. not... hating other women? really, the only thing we know about shiv's life and desires is that she wants to be fucking ceo of waystar so she can get logan's approval. that is it. that is why i would like to know more about her PERSONAL life. about her PERSONAL wants and needs and desires -- maybe it's to have kids, maybe it's to never fucking have kids whatsoever and jetset around the world. i don't care!!! i just want to learn more about whatever is underneath her veneer of 'masculinity,' whatever is outside of her relationships with men. aaaaaaaaaaand i think having to deal with something as personal and body-focused and life-changing as a pregnancy will force her to ask questions about herself she's always been too afraid to ask, and i'm interested to see what the answers are!!!

it's not revolutionary to have a pregnancy plotline. fucking obviously. what WOULD be revolutionary is allowing a character who has defined herself by, as you said, wishing she was a man -- allowing her to still be her same ole manipulative masculine whatever self while still allowing her to consider a life involving a family or love. just consider!!!! because i don't think she even has. her focus is ONLY on career, on success, on being respected. like, actually, the only aspects of her 'desires' etc that we DONT know are those related to love and family. we know what she wants career wise! why are you acting like she hasn't been incredibly career-focused this entire time? i just want to know what shiv roy wants on a human level!!! because i don't think anyone is JUST SATISFIED with career!!!!! not saying you need kids, god no idek if i'll have kids fr, but that there is more to life outside of that. so i want to know what she wants from life, because frankly, i don't think she's had the time or energy to even focus on that with how desperately she's had to fight to stay in the room. but now she has to actually start considering herself as an individual with a life outside waystar -- something she really hasn't done since she worked for gil in season one. ever since, her life has been waystar waystar waystar. but pregnancy.... well. that's something that's her own, especailly given that no one else knows about it right now. so i want to know more about shiv. that's all. and that's what i think this arc can tell us, and that's why i'm excited for it.

[7ndipity]

Take Care Of You

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: After a particularly rough week, you come down with the flu. Luckily, you have Yoongi to look after you, even if you think you don’t deserve it.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of illness, swearing, teeny bit suggestive and silly at the end, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!

Masterlist

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It was still dark as you woke up shivering, your whole body aching as you rolled over, seeking out the warmth of your boyfriend. After less than two minutes though, he tried to shift out of your hold, making you whine.

“Babe, I’m melting,” He complained sleepily, trying to squirm away. “Why are you so warm?”

You only groaned weakly in response.

Yoongi’s eyes cracked open at the small, pained sound, looking down at you with sudden concern. “Babe? Are you okay?”

“I don’t-”, a sudden fit of coughing seized you, shaking your whole body.

“Ah, shit.” He clicked the light on, making you wince at the sudden brightness, sitting up to get a better look at you. Your face was pale and covered with a faint sheen of sweat, your whole frame shaking violently from shivering, despite the heat rolling off of you.

“I told you you’ve been working too hard.” He sighed, feeling your forehead. “Stay here, I’m gonna go get you some medicine.”

He disappeared through the house as you curled further in on yourself, trying to ignore the pounding in your head.

You knew he was right, though you hated that he had to be proven right in this way. You’d been pushing yourself harder than usual the past few days, trying to keep up with the usual demands at work, as well trying to get ahead on a few projects in the hope that you and Yoongi could take some time off together.

He had expressed several times that he’d been worried about you, but you’d kept brushing him off, saying that you were fine, your usual response whenever he voiced those types of concerns. He had enough on his plate, oftentimes stretching himself thinner than you had this week, and you didn’t want to add the burden of looking after you to the list.

He returned with a couple pills and some water, encouraging you gently to sit up before he handed them to you.

You took the meds with a slight wince, feeling the soreness in your throat, before trying to pass the glass back to him, but he shook his head, nudging it back towards your lips.

“Drink, you need to pay extra attention to hydration if you’re sick.” He said matter-of-factly.

“You sound like Web Md.” You tried to tease him, but your voice came out too weak and cracked.

“Drink.” He said again sternly, though his eyes stayed soft.

You relented, nodding before slowly finishing the glass.

“I’m sorry.” You croaked.

“Shh, it’s okay. Just sleep, okay?” He said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

He helped you get settled back under the covers before returning to his side of the bed, keeping a watchful eye over you until you managed to drift back to sleep.

You don’t know how long you were asleep for, but when you opened your eyes again, it was light out, Yoongi’s side of the bed empty. You assumed he’d left for the studio, leaving you to get what rest you could, though you tried to ignore the faint pang of sadness in your chest at the thought.

Slowly, you sat up, stretching out your stiff limbs. You could tell your fever had broken, or at least lessened, you were only faintly aching now, though the dull pounding in your head was still very much present.

You decided to make the trek to the kitchen for some tea and more meds, looking for an extra sweater or hoodie to pull on for warmth before shuffling down the hall.

“What are you doing up?” You jumped slightly at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, turning to see him standing in the doorway, carrying a tray of food and tea.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in surprise.

He smirked. “I really hope you’re not so sick that you forgot I live here.”

“I mean why are you still here? Why aren’t you at the studio?” You asked.

“I told them I couldn’t come in today.” He answered, setting the tray on the bedside table.

“Why not?” You asked, confused.

“Because you’re sick,” He said as if it was obvious. “I’m not leaving to fend for yourself.”

“I’m fine-” Your argument was choked off by another fit of coughing. Yoongi quickly moved to steady you as you wobbled slightly, your legs not supporting you nearly as much as you’d hoped.

“You’re not fine.” He said softly once you’d quieted. “Please, just let me take care of you?”

Reluctantly, you nodded, letting him help you back to the bed, tucking the blanket in around your

legs before settling the tray on your lap.

“How are you feeling?” He asked gently, handing you a cup of tea. You blinked, surprised that

he’d remembered the right herbal blend you liked for times like this.

You glanced up at him, noticing that he was watching you, waiting patiently for your response.

“My head hurts.” You admitted quietly.

“These should help.” He said, opening a bottle and handing you a couple pills. “Anything else?”

You shook your head. “Not really, I just feel kinda shitty.”

“A shower might help with that.” He said, chuckling at your choice of words, happy that you still sounded like yourself. “Will you be okay on your own or do you want me to help?”

“I’ll be okay on my own.” You said softly, staring at him curiously.

“Okay. You should eat something first, though.” He said, sliding a bowl of soup over in front of you. “Then, if you want, I can set you up on the couch and we can watch one of your shows?”

When you didn’t answer, he looked up, catching the way you were staring at him.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You shook your head. “You’re just being really nice.” You said.

He tilted his head. “I’m always nice to you.”

“But all this-” You bit your lip. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“What are you talking about?” He said softly. “This is nothing, I’m just looking after you the way you deserve.”

You didn’t feel like it, you felt like you were getting in his way, keeping him away from his own work and responsibilities.

“Nuh-uh, I know that look.” He caught your chin with his fingers, turning your eyes back up to his, looking at you seriously. “Whatever’s going on in your head right now, it isn’t true. You deserve to be taken care of, you hear me?”

When you didn’t answer, he sighed, cupping your face in his hands.

“Y/n, I love you, I want to take care of you. I actually like getting to take care of you, when you let me, that is.” He added, making you crack a tiny grin. “Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Good, now c’mere.” He said, trying to pull you into a kiss, but you pressed a hand against his chest.

“What if you get sick?” You asked.

“I don’t give a shit. And even if I do, then you can take care of me, that’s how relationships work.” He said stubbornly, leaning in again.

You let him connect your lips for just a second before pulling away again.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” You said.

“You’re welcome.” He replied. “Now, eat your soup before it gets cold, and then you can take your shower, unless maybe now you want me to help you with it?” He raised a brow at you.

“Stop trying to flirt with me, I’m sick!” You laughed.

“Who’s trying? I’m succeeding, you blushed!” He defended, pointing to your flushed cheeks.

“I did not, I have a fever!”

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say, Babe.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[hellsburners]

feel the rush

summary: you come home to a needy roommate pairing: peter parker x male reader word count: 1.2k warnings: 18+ warning, s3x pollen, blowj0bs, handj0bs, implied fwb a/n: i got this as a request so i hope anon liked it <3

masterlist | more peter parker

You came home to the sound of grunting. Your roommate, Peter, was hunched on your couch covered in a thick blanket shaking and groaning. He was still wearing his suit, his hair all wet and tousled. “Peter, what’s wrong?’ you inched closer. He shuddered from the sudden touch.

“‘Not feeling well,” he said.

“Are you hurt?” you touched his forehead with the back of your hand. He was having an intense fever, sweat dripping from his temples. “Jesus you’re hot.”

“Was—this pumpkin bomb the goblin used,” he said, his voice shaking and hoarse. “This weird powder came out of it.”

“I’ll make you some tea, let’s get you to the kitchen,” you tried to help him stand up but Peter refused. “What’s wrong?” he shook his head, and you pleaded to him that he needed the tea. You took his arm around your neck and pulled him up. 

Peter’s body was still hunched over as he stood. He groaned from a sudden pain. Shit, he utters. You look down to where his eyes were focused on, his crotch. There was an obvious tent in his center, the fabric of his suit was wet near the tip of his cock. Peter tried to hide it with the blanket but you already saw. The two of you paused for a bit, taking in what just happened.

Oh. 

“It won’t go away,” he cries. 

You let him sit back on the sofa, the tent still erect. “I’ll—go get the tea.” 

You came back a few minutes later with the tea, still steaming from the kettle. He blows on the cup and takes a sip. Peter winces, the tea did nothing, his temperature was still high and the thing was still a problem. 

“Maybe you should get a really cold shower, that helps right?” you said. Peter sinks his head in his palms and screams into the blanket. “You know what, maybe you should undress, you know—since it looks like it's hurting down there.”

Peter stands, the blanket falling on the couch. You help him with the zipper on his nape, quickly pulling it down to expose his scarred back. He pulls on the suit to remove it from his arms, the lean muscles contracting from the movement. He loses balance for a sec, your hands going immediately to his bare shoulders for support. A soft moan leaves his lips. 

“Sorry—,” he groans. You help him pull off the rest of the suit leaving him in his baby blue boxers. The front of the boxers was stained dark blue from his erection. “Can I take it off?” He gestures at the boxers. 

It’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked before, there was that one time you two hooked up but it was a long time ago and under different circumstances. Peter takes off his underwear and slumps on the sofa, his leaking cock pointing north. It was throbbing and the head a bright red. 

“It won’t go away,” his words dragged out. 

“Have you tried to, you know, do it?” 

“I tried to rub one out but nothing happened, you need to help me.”

“Help you?” your brows furrowed. He nods like a puppy, his brown eyes shining under the lights. 

“Like old times.”

“That was one night,” you said.

“One amazing night,” he jokingly laughs.

You flipped him off. You braced yourself, wiping your sweaty palms on your legs. “So what should we do?” you asked. 

“We could do a handjob first?” his voice was still shaking. 

You placed your hand on his leaking cock, it was warm and hard under your skin. Peter rests his arm on the back of the couch, his thighs wide apart as you start to jerk him off. He closes his eyes and draws his head back, a sigh of relief leaving his mouth. 

“Is that good?”

“Fuck, so good,” he moans. 

You continue to slide your hand across his length, and a few beads of precum fall in your hand producing lubrication. Peter lets out a loud cry as your wet hand reaches the sensitive head of his cock. 

“You can go faster,” he said. Your pace quickens, he lets out a moan, his lips glistening. You tighten the grip on his erection, especially when you reach his tip. He grips the back of your shirt. His legs tense, his face scrunches as if he were in pain. He let out a loud, fuck. 

“What’s wrong?”

“It didn’t work,” he said. His face went frown. You wanted to help him, he looked like he was in so much discomfort. 

“What if I give you a blow job?” you utter, your brain not even thinking of it before it left your lips.

His eyebrows raised at your suggestion. “You sure you’d want that?”

“Like you said. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” he laughs. 

You bent down where the tip of his cock was inches away from your lips. You press your lips to the tip, you taste the saltiness in his precum. His hand on your back snakes towards your nape, to your hair. He guides your head as you engulf his hardness, the girth filling your lips. 

Your saliva coats his cock making it slippery. You jerk his cock off while you suck on the tip. Peter lets out a drawn-out moan, his hands on your hair curling. Your mouth leaves his cock, you stand up. His brows raised in confusion. You knelt in between his legs, your hands kneading his muscular thighs. 

Peter looks at you with amusement as you take his cock back into your mouth, both of his hands guiding your face. “Can I fuck your—” You didn’t let him finish, you assumed the position, your mouth around his cock and your hands on your lap. 

He braced himself as fucked into your mouth. Using you as a means for release. He fucks into your throat with vigor as he lifts his hips from the couch. He bites his lip from the immense pleasure coursing through his body. Whatever the bomb had it amplified his senses tenfold. 

Your eyes start to well from the sheer force, your hands digging into your thighs. You look up to Peter through your lashes, his eyes closed and his face in ecstasy. He lets out a bunch of praises, on how good it feels and how close he was. 

You take the wheel from him, back to sucking on his cock practically worshiping it. Your tongue licking the sensitive frenulum. You hollow your cheeks and it edges Peter on more. Your hand continues to stroke him, another hand fondling his balls. 

“I’m so fucking close,” he whines. 

Peter’s hips started to thrust on your hand as his body started to convulse. He yells out as thick cum shoots at your face and your tongue, the warm liquid was bitter on your taste buds. You gulped, he was still riding his high, his face all red and his chest heaving. 

You two pause for a second, breathing hard from the intense exercise. Peter pulls you in for a kiss, he could taste his pleasure in your mouth. You moan as he takes you into his lap, his hands crawling under your shirt. 

“Your turn.” 

comments/ reblogs/ tags are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[007reid]

u have absolutely no idea what 'coffee caramels' did to me omg 😭 u write spencer and his mannerisms so WELL hsbsghdbdh so i come to u with a lil request if that's okay with u !!

spencer insists on playing pretend-doctor for reader who's sick (but denying it) so he invokes his technically-a-doctor card and gives his second opinion just to take care of reader n smother them w looooove

essentially just him teasing y/n and being the stupid Cute attentive nerd he is <3

(inspired by S5E3 where he gets stuck at the bau w garcia bc he was being stubborn abt his injury)

i am never ever Normal abt this guy 😞 i look forward to reading more of ur work and losing my mind over reid with u, aine !! mwa

hiii tysm for requesting, youre so fucking sweet!! <33 drop an emoji to let me know who you are and let’s loose our mind over our fav boy together anon!!!! also sorry this took so long, i wrote like 3k but then hated it so i started over, i love this prompt sm so i feel like i had to do it justice.

pspspsp i love s5 spence so fucking much... his hair went from beautiful to ethereal to mad sexy...s5 treated us well. requests are ALWAYS appreciated !!!!!!

soup. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k

you've been off it for so long, dodging virus after virus and disease after disease and just right when you thought that you are immune to sickness, you caught it. the inevitable fever.

there was no denying it, you've tried. after getting a headache, you popped a tylenol before you went to sleep, nonchalant. the next morning was when reality really came crashing down. a sore throat.

it progressively got worse throughout the day, and when you came crashing into bed after a long day at work, your nose was feeling stuffy and your were coughing, spewing sickness everywhere you went. you woke up in the middle of night sweating like you had just ran a fucking marathon and only able to breathe through one nostril unless you shift your body entirely.

you did not take to these news well. firmly in denial, you still planned to show up to work the next day.

except you didn't show up to work. sickly and delirious, the part when you press snooze then snooze again slip your mind and at one point you must've turn off your alarm entirely. drifting in and out of consciousness and slipping into dream after dream, it gets harder to tell what is real and what is not.

"y/n? y/n!"

now, it is very probable that the voice isn’t actually real, because why the hell would you be hearing spencer reid’s voice outside of work? the chances are slim to none, and despite the heat pounding at your skull you manage to smile. there is something unexplainably comforting about spencer’s voice, soft and deliberate. it would be foolish to say that under the mad spell he’d cast on you (him simply saying two words) he’s managed to melt away your headache, because he didn’t. you still feel like shit.

“y/n?”

you frown, the voice sounding too insistent and real and not matching up with the visuals of your dream. you feel a tapping on your shoulder and when you blink your eyes open you could’ve screamed.

you jump up and then backwards, huddling your blanket with you, scared for your life. because right in front of you is perhaps the most intimidating creature on the earth; spencer reid in a purple sweater vest with his face so close to yours he could breathe in your sickness, hair tucked carefully behind his ear.

“spencer?” you ask incredulously, but instead your voice comes out a rasp. you clear your throat, feeling something warm creep up your cheek. it might be a blush, but you blame it on the chills. you keep blinking, trying to regain your vision and feel instantaneous embarrassment. you look a mess, sick and dehydrated with dry lips and bad hair and you probably reek of morning breath. and spencer’s there, looking like heaven’s finest angel, smiling at you like he’s smiling at a person and not a monster. spencer has the tendency to treat and look at everyone like they’re the love of his life. you sort of hate it.

“hi y/n,” he breathes, crouching down on the floor before you on the bed. “i—“

“what are you doing here?” you’re too impatient to wait, still in shock.

now. you try not to make it obvious that you have a mad crush on spencer, because if the fact were to spill, you’re not eager cleaning up the consequences. it’s an unestablished, unspoken rule that should be common sense that no workplace dating will be allowed and usually it’s a ridiculous rule, because who the hell would want to date their coworker, like actually? work crushes are normal but they exist only in a part of your day, an eye-candy for you to stare at to get through the day, then you go home or go out and forget about them. who actually has serious work crushes, actually? actually? it’s ridiculous.

your defense is completely solid, you’d say. your number one defense is you can’t help the fact that you and spencer were meant to be friends. the moment you joined the team, you and spencer clicked together like two lego pieces, despite your clashing personalities. you find it refreshing to have someone like spencer, someone who’s soft and sweet but cunning and resourceful but thoughtful and kind, and it was equally refreshing for spencer to have someone blunt and straightforward but still patient enough to put up with him.

spencer doesn’t like physical touch but ever since your first week he made you the exception and if you could, you would parade the privilege around like a badge. what can you say, you’re proud to be spencer’s little exception, anyone would be. he makes you feel special, differently than the others do and what’s a girl to do? to have that great of a relationship with a coworker and not be work spouses and not be actually head over heels with the guy? how laughable.

it’s not something you’re proud of, however. you know it’s a lost cause, chasing after spencer. it hurts, sometimes, but you always patted yourself on the back with an ‘it is what it is.’ spencer, as sweet and vulnerable as he is, has layers behind his thinly veiled heart. he talks a lot but he never talks about himself and he never talks about the past so he doesn’t have to revive it, so all the memories are just wounds left out and neglected to burn. spencer’s trouble, definitely trouble, but it’s hard to be aware of the workload that spencer reid is when he’s rambling to you about something as innocent as halloween or knocking his knuckles on your knee during a flight trying to get your attention.

spencer blinks sheepishly, settling criss cross apple sauce on the ground, lanky legs twisting uncomfortably. “you didn’t come into work and you didn’t answer your phone,” he explains. “emily told me to go check on you.”

you nod. he’s here because emily told him to. it makes a lot more sense now. “i’ll head in the office now,” you say, making your way out of bed, wiping at your eyes. “sorry—“

“no you’re not,” spencer says immediately, not even hesitating. he places a hand on your upper chest, pressing you back down on the bed. the butterflies at the pit of your stomach throws a fit. you know he means nothing by the action—has spencer reid ever been the one knowledgeable about romance?—but knowing that doesn’t help the heat that spread up your cheeks that’s definitely not from the sickness. “you’re burning up,” he says. “i’ll get you some water. you should clean up,” he says, uncrossing his legs difficultly and then stumbling out the room, mismatched socks slipping on the hardwood floor.

you take advantage of the time that spencer’s not there and race to the bathroom, ignoring the blackout and the dizziness that threatens to make you faint from getting up too abruptly. you squirt some toothpaste onto your toothbrush and by the time you exit the bathroom, spencer is already there, waiting, except he’s by your desk, hands on a book.

typical.

he perks up when he hears your footsteps pad into the room, turning around, looking like a child who’s been caught with your book in his hands. you smile at him, albeit it’s a pathetic smile. you feel dizzy.

“you like toni morrison?”

“i love toni morrison,” spencer chirps, excitement bouncing all over his face. “especially her masterwork, beloved,” he looks back down at your red copy admiringly then sets it down. "get back in bed," he says, and you can't wrap your hand around how ridiculous the situation is. your coworker, or work crush, is at your house, checking your temperature and shooing you to bed to rest. "i bought you soup so you can eat up, i--"

“you bought me soup?” you ask, incredulous. spencer nods seriously.

“it's proven that eating soup makes people feel better, not just some stereotype. the right amount of sodium can help help relieve sore throat pains and the vitamins and minerals found in soup can play a very large part in recovery...i had a feeling you were going to be sick, it’s the weather, you know? everyone is catching the cold. you need to eat it before it gets cold, the heat helps with nasal digestion and also sinus pressure and it'll be useless if you ate it lukewarm...i’ll be right back…” and with the babbling his voice fades out as he walks back out to the living room, leaving you alone standing on the side of your bed. you look at the forgotten copy of beloved set carefully back onto your desk, smiling to yourself slightly before climbing back into bed, because spencer says so and spencer’s always right but mostly because your legs feel like they’re going to give out.

spencer is speedy, striding several steps at once with his ridiculously long legs that looks unnaturally lanky but once he reaches your room again, soup and spoon in hand you were already nodding off, head lolling and eyes slipping shut. spencer stops at your bed stand, thinking to himself for a second before balancing the plastic bowl of soup on one hand and using the other to gently nudge at your face, waking you up. he grimaces when he feels that your skin burns to the touch, a bright tint to your cheeks that he hates himself for liking because you're sick, he shouldn't be thinking that you're pretty or stuff like that.

spencer waves the thought away, determined to focus on his mission. deliver soup, make sure you're okay, and send his farewells. that's what emily told him to do, and even though derek added a "kiss her goodnight too, loverboy!" he's only going to listen to emily, because emily knows best.

yes. perfect. that's exactly what he's going to do.

"hey," he whispers, caressing his thumb across the lightly purple patch under your eye, frowning to himself. you haven't been getting good enough sleep, and he feels guiltier for waking you up, but then straightens himself up resolutely--no. emily said the soup must be delivered and consumed--just to melt again when your eyes flutter open, confused and traces of sleep still floating around your facial expression. "sorry," he mumbles, feeling oddly embarrassed. "it's just--i mean, you don't have to, jus' want you to eat something before you sleep again."

you sit up slowly, and once you're fully awake again, the smell of the soup hits you like a bucket of ice and you suddenly feel your mouth watering. you feel like a princess, sitting there with your hands crossed in your lap while you wait for spencer to unwrap the plastic utensils and tissues from its clear packaging, carefully opening up the lid of the soup on the night stand and hot steam floats around the room, engulfing both you and spencer in a bubble of tomato soup.

spencer, a planner that he is, didn't let you eat directly from the plastic take-out bowl from the restaurant and had rummaged through your kitchen for a bowl and pours half the soup into the ceramic, no spillage and perfectly clean. then he hands the soup to you, and you eat.

to say that spencer is concerned is to say the least. you're a profiler, and you're trained to pick up on this sort of thing but you only need to be a child with an undeveloped brain to work out that spencer's worried, watching your every move and monitoring that you eat enough, the crease in his brows deepen whenever you set the bowl down so you pick it up again and stuff two more spoonfuls in your mouth, to hopefully make him worry less.

the silence is awkward, the only sounds in the room is you biting down on the spoon occasionally as you drink your soup and spencer watching intently, hands on his chin and unaware of his staring problem. you and spencer rarely has these kind of silences, the silences where you scramble for things to say because the atmosphere would always be too comfortable. you sneak glances at him as you eat. since spencer's completely oblivious to the heaviness of the silence, you feel it's up to you to break it.

"i'll clock in once i'm finish eating this, don't worry," you say, trying your best to sound reassuring as you try to choke back a spoonful of soup too big. you lick your lips, and spencer is biting his, a bad habit.

"no you're not, y/n," he says, exasperated. normally, when spencer uses his 'i'm right so you should listen to me' tone like this, it means he's geared for an argument and you would be happy to challenge him, but now you can't find the energy for it. yet you muster enough up anyway.

"i'm only a bit shaken up 'cause of the weather," you say, trying to sound as convincing as possible, still in the calm before the storm of the bicker. "'m not immobile. and i already used up all my off days visiting my family--"

spencer, however, didn't bother for the peaceful offering. "you're not coming in today, y/n," he says, and he sounds a bit anxious but you know his true intent. his eyes are mirthful with confidence, and he knows he's already won the argument. despite the buzzing in your ears and the fuzziness in your brain, you can't let the bastard win. you can't.

“i can’t miss anymore days spencer, and i won’t,” you say coldly, but you slurping on the soup hungrily like it’s your last day on earth sort of ruined your cool facade. “i’m not too sick, either, it’ll be useless for me to stay home—“

spencer reaches to press his palm against your forehead, his skin cold to the touch. you close your eyes instinctively.

“you’re burning up,” he announces. “means your sick. you’re not coming in today, y/n.”

“says who?” you say defensively, feeling a bit like you’re loosing.

“says me,” spencer says cooly, cheeky smile at his lips. you should hate it more than you do. “who’s a doctor.”

you scoff. “so now you’re an actual doctor? you got a medical phd on you?”

“i have a bachelor in medicine and enough doctorates to make me slightly knowledgeable in every field,” spencer quips and you didn’t even know that he had a bachelor in medicine. how many fucking degrees does this guy even have on his resume?

“whatever,” you grumble, sounding a lot like someone who’s just got defeated. you set the bowl of soup down on the nightstand and spencer hands you a bottled water before you could think about needing water. you pluck it from his offering hands, muttering a “thanks” under your breath.

spencer laughs quietly, watching you drink patiently and putting the cap back on when you hand him back the bottle, setting it next to your soup. you feel ridiculously babied and your cheeks burn with the guilt you feel. you’re talking him off his office hours just to be here and feed you stuff and make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

spencer, the 24/7 profiler, notices. "is something wrong?" he asks innocently, round eyes blinking and oblivious. bless him. "you got redder. is it too hot? i can adjust the a/c."

“fine,” you mumble, still a little embarrassed with your realization. “little cold, actually.”

“it's the chills from your fever,” spencer informs you. “i…” he pauses, frowning again, frustrated from not being able to finish his thought. he abandons it. “do you need anything else?”

“no spence,” you laugh sort of pathetically, throat strained. “you’ve been an angel already. you can go back to the office, if you want.”

spencer thinks back to what emily had told him. soup. make sure she’s ok. leave. he’s done the past two steps. it’s time he completes his mission.

but…

“are you sure?” he prods, a little bit of him hoping that you'd say no. he doesn't know what it is; something bothering him, making him dread leaving.

you didn't get the cue. "mhmm," you shoot him a reassuring smile. as reassuring as you can manage, anyway, grimacing at the insistent throb in your head. spencer gnaws on his bottom lip, indecisive. you don't know what he was deciding between.

whatever battle it was, he wraps it up quick. "okay," he repeats. "i'll get back."

"you do that."

"remember to drink water."

"i will."

"do you need me to bring you more?"

"i'm okay."

"okay."

"okay."

the conversation feels incomplete and spencer isn't interested to complete it, booting out the door, except he lingers for a bit and awkwardly turns around, hand on the frame. you are already looking at him when he looks at you.

you and spencer are never this awkward, never this hesitant and strange. the tension that suffocates your room feels like signature first-date-tension, the kind of nervous excitement and tip-toeing blind lovers and uncertainty.

"are you sure?"

i'd rather you stay. you push the response away. "i am."

"you have medicine right?"

you do have medicine. for a brief moment, you want to lie about it; want to say that you ran out this morning and then he would run to the store for you and return and then spend more time in your insufferable, sickly presence. you brush the thought away within a second. never in a million years do you want to bother spencer, especially not with a thing as selfish as that. maybe it's because of your biased vision but spencer is looking like he's desperate to leave, practically screaming for outlet at the door. it's time you let him go and indulge in the worst sleep you'll ever have.

"yeah," you say, clearing your throat. "i do."

"okay," spencer says. "i'll go."

"thanks," you add awkwardly. "for the soup. and for coming."

"'course" spencer says absentmindedly, lingering at the door frame but not looking at you in particular, not looking at anything. he snaps back and sends you a wave. spencer has a power to him where everything he does looks unplanned, like he's doing it against his own will.

he leaves. if you had change your mind and ask for him to come back, for him to stay, he would've. no hesitation. but you didn't, and he wiggles back in his broken in converses and return back to the bau with no elevator partner.

maybe another day.

a/n: sorry for the ending, this was getting too long so i had to cut it short 😓😓but i think it's kinda fitting! lmk if you guys want a part 2 <3

[sluts4matt]

please please please im begging you with my whole heart to write a fluffy chris sickfic one where y/n gets a cold and he takes care of her for the whole day im on my hands and knees atp 🫶🏼

no smut please im just craving comfort atm but wtv you want sweets

i love you to the stars baby 💗🫵🏼

SICK DAY - CHRIS

pairing: chris sturniolo x columbian!reader

summary: you had been sick the past two days, both of those days your boyfriend has been right by your side.

warnings: a cougar-panther joke, fluff.

word count: 894

authors note: i'm sorry forgive me anon 🙏 i'm so shit at getting through request but i'm trying i swear. p.s this is kinda short but i wrote it during one of my breaks

you grabbed a tissue from the box next to you, blowing your nose for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. "are you sure you don't need anything?" chris mutters from next to you, carding his fingers through your hair.

"i'm sure, just lay here with me," you mumble, nuzzling into his chest further. you had felt like absolute shit, your fever being over 102 degrees. you turned your face, sneezing into your arm before going back to nuzzling your face in his chest.

"bless you," he murmured, picking a movie for the two of you. "i'm gonna doordash some food," he stated as you felt his body shift as he moved to grab his phone.

"mkay," you whispered, closing your eyes and listening to his heartbeat.

"do you want anything specific?" he asks causing you to shrug.

"nah, just whatever," you mutter, letting out a soft sigh as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

"you feeling any better, love?" he asks, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "no," you frown, watching his fingers click on his phone screen. "kanes?" he asks, looking over at you.

you nod your head, knowing he already knew your order and you wouldn't have to tell him. "okay, baby," he coos, kissing your head again. "i'm ordering it now," he mumbles.

"can you not get me fries this time? i don't want them," you state, and he nods his head. "that's fine," he smiles.

he places the order, setting his phone down. "thirty minutes," he states, embracing you with his arms.

you felt your body melt into them, "i love your hugs," you whisper, "i love you," he mumbles back.

you smile, nuzzling into his chest once more. you feel his hands slide up your back, rubbing at your tense shoulders as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. "you're so pretty," he states, a grin tugging on his lips.

"thank you," you mumble, heat going to your cheeks. you tilt your head slightly as he messages your shoulders making the boy grin.

he leans down, pressing soft kisses to the top of your shoulder as he messages. "i love you, so much," he murmurs.

you let out a hum, your eyes fluttering shut as he pressed kisses to your skin. his kisses slowly moved up your shoulder, and he placed one kiss behind your ear before going back down.

"get some rest," he says, and you let out a soft hum, letting your eyes flutter shut.

you didn't know how long it was, but soon you were being gently shaken awake by chris, "y/n," he said quietly, "foods here," he said and you looked over at the boy.

he was smiling at you, his eyes shining with love and affection, "what?" you mutter sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

"the foods here," he repeated, and you nod your head, "mkay," you say, slowly sitting up. he places the bag in between you two as he climbs back into bed.

"chicken nuggets," he says, handing you the box then ranch. "and a strawberry lemonade," he finished, handing you the cold beverage. you take a small drink, wincing as it stings going down your throat.

"are you okay?" he asks, rubbing your back. you nod your head, "sick," you remind jokingly.

he nods his head, a small chuckle leaving his lips. the two of you start to eat, you had barely eaten all day, so the food tasted delicious.

"gracias guapo," you smile, looking at chris. he nods his head with a smile, "of course ma," he smiles, putting on a car's movie for the two of you to watch.

you smile at your boyfriend, "i love you," you state, "you're the best," you kiss his cheek.

"i love you too," he chuckles, taking a sip of his pepsi. he takes a bite out of his chicken sandwich, looking over at you.

"you look like you're pondering your thoughts," he chuckles, nudging your leg with his own.

"would you love me if i were a spider?" you asks. chris had heard the question a million times so him rolling his eyes didn't surprise you in the slightest even if it had brought a pout to your lips.

"i've told you this, yes, you'd be my pet," he states, "but what if i were like... a black widow.. or.. or a bird eating spider," you state, a cough leaving your lungs.

"just make sure i keep a better eye on you so you don't get loose," he laughs. "i would still love you and you'd be my pet," he says before biting into his sandwich once again.

you grin, nodding your head. "okay," you state. "what's your favorite potato?" he asks, causing you to giggle. "you already know this," you shake your head, "but mashed."

"child," he states, "cougar," you fire back, making him huff. chris had been a year older so it was an ongoing joke that he was a cougar and you were a panther.

"oh hush," he states, playfully shoving your face away.

after a while, the food had digested and the movie was almost over. "do you see yourself with me in a year?" chris asks, drawing circles into your hips.

"and many more to come," you mumble, letting out a hum as he continued to rub.

"that's good," he smiles, "mhm."

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolohoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @strombolilovr @raysmayhem-72

[scara-meow-che]

Dainsleif's dick being infused with abyss energy(?) like his arm-

Like yea Tartaglia's last form's dick, yeah Ito's oni dick, yeah zhongli's dragoon dick,but what of Dain???? That shit must be magical 😩

⦿ 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 ┃ eyes up here princess with dainsleif

CW. NSFW (MDNI), big dick! dain, fem! reader, use of words (princess), established relationship, teasing, first-time sex, implied oral, sex w/out penetration (thigh job and dick job? is that even a thing? idk, just read it to find out), dirty talk, magical dick (i am NOT sorry), mention of abyss princess lumine

AN. the new archon quest 🧍🏻‍♀️ it felt like a fever dream and it's a whole ass year again before we get to see this man so i am making it my mission to let him and his abyss-energy-fused dick live in my mind rent-free. also, if the anon that sent me this is still here to witness me posting this, hello :D this took me by surprise bcs i planned it to be short but here we are ig

it wasn't every day that you get dain's attention all to yourself.

you would often see him somewhere, busy, as always. sometimes, you would find yourself conversing with a few locals when dain tries to do things on his own as he would reason out that it's for your own safety. or you'd be up and about some part of the region searching for the abyss princess as to what he currently puts as his top priority.

these repeating turn of events would, most of the time, make you question whether you really matter to him seeing as he's always invested in things unrelated to you or what interests you. you don't ask too much from him but sometimes, a little attention would be nice, or have him answer all the questions that run inside your head.

yet, when dain would see that familiar expression painting your face as you make your bed for the night, he would put everything on hold and indulge more in what you'd request. he does make up for you, well, you have no complaints when he does because he'd always be there in a heartbeat for every beck and call.

hence why you're laid out on your bed, legs spread out with him toying with your already sore clit.

the idea of having sex had never once danced in between each conversation you'd have with dain. you'd rather spend the time to catch up on each other's day and sort out a route to where you both want to go next. it never fazed you when some people asked how your relationship with dain is going, not even bothered when some old women from liyue dramatically gasped as you've never been that intimate with your lover.

as the tension builds up throughout the months of overhearing people gossiping about their partners or be the victim of a drunk local telling you the tale of their sexual escapades, it draws out some images in your head. would dain be like the same as those oni's you've heard about? or have an impressive length similar to this one tale about a dragon lord? heck, would he have a dick that grows unrealistically big just like with the harbinger that you've heard about?

but who fucking cares anyway? you're about to get the real deal right now.

"what a curious mind you have there, princess." dain mindlessly mused as he press soft kisses along your thighs, leaving you breathless as he presses himself closer to your aching core. you can feel the heat from the big hard tent on his pants as he rubs himself to the dampness of your cunt. "i thought that eating you out could already satiate your pretty little head but you still want... what? what is it that you want from me again?"

he taunts, amused when he hears a cry from your disheveled form. "ah, didn't i say to tell me if you want something?"

"but it's embarrassing to say it!" you can't even fully reason out how humiliating it is for you to casually ask him that you want to see his dick as you let out another moan when he lightly thrusts his clothed cock on your core. he doesn't even let up, continuing his cruel pace in rubbing his aching dick on your already sensitive clit.

"p-please! i just, a-ah, want to see your d-dick!"

"say what again, princess?"

having enough of his teasing, you went to give your best in bending your body just to reach the big tent on his pants. "i want to see your dick dain and... i want you to fuck me, please."

you can feel a rush of heat all over your skin, your eyes quickly darting to the side to avoid dain's amused pair. a chuckle was all you heard before you felt his hands gently laying you down back to bed. in response to his pleased titter, you scoffed and gave him a quick glare.

"i'm sorry but you're just irresistible when you're so honest with me." he paused as he takes a sharp intake of air when he pulls out his leaking cock from the confines of his pants.

your eyes widen at the sight. no, it's not because he's as big as what you heard like the one of an oni or he has that delicious curve like that of the dragon cock but it's because the hue is unlike any other, the dark blue pulses as beads of white litters on the tip. fuck, when dain gave his dick a quick stroke, you can see how it grew a bit larger in his palm.

you drool just by imagining how it would feel inside of you.

"eyes up here, princess." he gave your thighs a light smack, pulling your attention back up before you felt the cockhead rubbing so gingerly on your little nub, smearing your cum on your lower lips.

"you're so eager for me, huh?" he can feel you trembling the more he pays attention to your aching core, gliding the head back and forth your lower lips, enough to push the head inside your hole but easy for him to just pull right back out. he's testing out the waters, waiting for more of your reactions and he could only see you enjoying yourself being please with the tip of his dick.

"just look at you, so wet and ready for me." and you are, feeling your arousal pool and spill right out of your needy hole while dain keeps making a mess out of it. your hips desperately buck right up, chasing for the head but he kept you pinned down on the soft mattress as he continues teasing you.

"dain, please, want to feel more of you." your hand went to grab his arms, giving it a light squeeze that you knew would get him to listen to you.

but it did the complete opposite.

"didn't you say that you want to see my dick?"

before you could argue back, dain had gently straightened both your legs upward, his strong arms locking you in place before pushing the dark blue cockhead in between your thighs. "been wanting to do this for so long," he uttered with a low groan, his body shivering when he thrusts his cock in the middle of your soft flesh, the rushed and hasty movements of the head prods at your clit. "you look so pretty like this, just letting me use you."

you gasped for air when he purposely prods at your puckering hole, angling his abyss-energy-fused cock to dive in and out of your thighs. your eyes caught a glimpse of how each streak of white glow, the nerves pulsing as he ruts himself so needily on you.

"so keep your pretty eyes on me and maybe, if you managed to do so, i might just give you what you want."

and you did, you desperately tried your best to keep looking at dain and just watching how he use your thighs to get off. it was a rare sight to see dain lose himself, tottering over the warmth and softness that covers his dick.

at first, he was scared that he might scare you off, thinking how unusual his cock looks. compared to what he thought you'd prefer to see in between your legs, about to rail the innocence out of you, his was far off the scales.

but when he saw your eyes almost sparkled when he pulled out his dick, hands so damn eager to touch him, and both your lips spilling out how much you want more of him just sends him over the edge. his pace quickened the more he stares at your needy form, enjoying the way your eyes fluttered close whenever he brushed against your hole before proceeding in sliding his cock back on your thighs.

"i'm so close, fuck, you feel so good 'round me like this, princess." and fuck, yes, you can feel more of his pre-cum ooze around the head and coats more of your already slick skin. it felt so dirty, so filthy to watch him fuck himself with your thighs and you felt dirtier when you were enjoying how his large dick, fused with the same abyss energy as his arm, slides back and forth your thighs.

"cum for me please," you whispered, urging your lover to release his load on your skin. within seconds, dain stopped his thrusts as he buried his cock between your legs, pressing it tighter as he shoots his load on your flesh, slowly having the thick globs of his cum drip down on your core.

while dain goes to steady his breathing, you went to open up your legs to see how much cum had covered your body, the scent of sex causing your head to fizzle out that you had nothing in your mind but the need to see his dick filling you up.

dainsleif was shocked when you went to reach out for his cock, the keenness in your eyes captivating as you focused on his dick.

"wanna see how it looks as you fuck me." your request came like a cry, a whimper of desperation. and you can feel the way dain's dick twitched on your hand.

you're going to be the death of him.

⠀⠀scara-meow-che © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, or repost ANY of my content

[lovingonryles]

Father!Hobie x Parent!Reader

Omgggg Hobie would have such a cute small chunky baby and since his hands are fucking huge I’m sure the baby will be extra comfortable :,)))

SOBBING BECAUSE OMGG THAT’S ADORABLE 😭 TY ANON <33 also, sorry if this took a while, I was superrr unmotivated

pairing: father!hobie brown x parent!reader

summary: hobie being a dad

warnings: established relationship, cursing, but just fluff besides that :))

word count: 393, should take about three minutes to read

listen to: sweet child o’ mine by guns n’ roses

okay, so i think at first he wouldn’t really be up for taking care of a kid

not that he doesn’t like kids, he’s just afraid of messing up or hurting your kid

but the second he sees them, he immediately gets baby fever

he is everywhere with this child, I swear to god

he’s going to the store, he insists on taking them, he’s making dinner, he has that baby carrier thing on him with your baby in it

he’s not a bad influence unlike peter b, though, so he doesn’t bring them to fights or shows

as mentioned, he literally loves holding this child. he’ll never admit it, but he does

the baby will immediately fall asleep in his arms and it’s just UGHHH it’s adorable

believe it or not, he’s actually amazing at singing lullabies

that baby’s crying, the second he hears his voice, they shut up. it’s like magic

if your baby starts crying in the middle of the night, he always insists on waking up instead of you. always. and it always works. he won’t be gone for more than fifteen minutes

like peter and mayday, he has a shit ton of photos just dedicated to the kid. he’ll show them to everyone he knows

the arachnakids also love them

they’ll offer to babysit your kid so much

like, they’ll purposely set you and hobie up on dates just so they could babysit your kid

they also love you two a lot though they’ll never admit it

hobie accidentally cursed a few times around them when they were still young, so when they started talking, they started cursing

you’ll never get over it

he’ll steal cute little baby clothes

you always scold him for it, because you know, you’re adults and shit and he’s being a bad influence, but you forget all about it when he actually puts them in the clothes

half of the photos he has is just of your kid dressed up

he’s genuinely such a good dad dude oml 😭

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Can you write how Geo would deal with a mc that is always sick? (Totally not cause I'm sick too)

My Remedy for your Malady. (All x Sick! MC/Reader)

Anon. First and foremost, I made you wait 5 1/2 days. I am truly, wholly sorry for this *humbly bows*. (▰︶︹︺▰)

Secondly, I decided that I'm gonna do this for all 7 of our characters, because Jess, Brit and Deryl deserve more attention. I hope you may forgive me for my lateness, and enjoy this fic nonetheless (btw get well soon if you're not already <33).

Also I know that Jess especially is shorter (literally teehee) than the others, but I'm gonna get the hang of her eventually. Same with Deryl. >:]

ALSO, you're in an established relationship with them, so that's why they have (very legal) access to your residence!

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Remedy: a medicine or treatment for a disease or injury.

Malady: a disease or ailment.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geo was concerned when he found out you were ill.

When you didn't show up to school for the last few days, he texted you to find out why; to which you bluntly told him you felt like utter shit.

He doesn't pick up on the fact you're sick until you straight-up tell him.

Depending on what type of sick you are, he'll get the appropriate medicines/remedies and speed his way towards your home, hell, he might even skip archery, and he *never* skips archery.

Would rock up with food he knows shouldn't cause any problems or nausea for you and will probably make soup.

And you better fucking eat it.

He will feed it to you (reluctantly, but if you seriously can't do it yourself, then he'll manage).

Will ask you how the hell you fell ill anyway, and depending on your answer, he'll be either: Pissed (if you caught it from someone else), Or exasperated (if you stopped taking care of yourself or didn't equip yourself well enough to deal with the weather).

Will take care of you either way.

Will read to you in Japanese to help you sleep.

Will try to not lie near you if possible, unless absolutely needed. He does not plan on catching shit.

Will remain at your residence until you recover; unless he has classes that are either critically important and/or ones you're also in.

Will lend you his notes.

Will also take them back after a few days.

Will also just probably talk to you while you're bedridden, unless you cannot, in which case he'll simply watch you sleep, occasionally stroking your head and hair to try and comfort you.

He's trying his best, okay?

Sol will freak when he finds out you're sick.

Doesn't care what he's got on next, he's gonna go take care of you.

Will probably feel bad for not telling Hyugo anything about suddenly vanishing

, but he'll understand right?

Will spawn outside your home with: - Medicine, - Your favourite comfort food (if you can eat it without the fear of vomiting), - Probably will bring poetry and art with him, so you both have something to do (that's not him) when you're bedridden.

Will try and hold you if possible, doesn't mind if he gets your blessed germs on him.

You'll have to tell him that you'd worry for him if he fell ill, so he'll respect that.

But he will feed you. You don't have a say in that.

You're being babied now.

He's gonna make sure everything you want (and can have when sick), you'll have.

Is honestly okay with not going to any class, he'll just ask Hyugo for notes if he hasn't been MIAing.

Covers you in blankets if you've got a cold.

If you have a fever? Ice cream. >:]

Essentially tries to uplift your mood as much as humanely possible.

This guy will do anything for you. <33

Crowe will ensure that when he arrives at your home, you'll have everything you'll need.

Will cook your favourite food.

Will make you eat soup and light foods that are easy on the stomach.

Won't touch you, he doesn't want to fall ill, but will read to you.

He's got a soothing voice I just know it.

And he's 110% going to put you in a coma from how tired you feel when his voice hits just right.

Or maybe you're just fatigued because of your body waging a war against god-knows what kind of virus.

Will make you all forms of beverages to suit your illness, will also go out of his way to purchase any, after all, he's got the funding.

Will still go to classes, and takes extensive notes for you.

Will also tutor you the content if you're up for it.

Will stroke your hair if it's not sweaty, as a form of comfort.

Will make you feel as loved as possible.

Because that's what you deserve.

Brittney will be appalled.

How did you get sick? More importantly...who got you sick?

She's gonna yell at them.

Or fight them.

Maybe both.

Will buy a bunch of goodies for the both of you.

She can't cook for shit, so she'll just get takeout as food and order a fuckton of cough drops and Panadol.

You're both gonna be painting each others' nails.

And spilling gossip. Oh my god, she always had gossip.

Will give you notes to subjects that are majors, or ones you share.

Other than that can't offer much.

Will sit away from you to not get sick, but she'll 110% be supporting you emotionally.

Will probably give you a massage when you get better.

Idk she gives the vibe that she would.

Is the most aggressively supportive girlfriend ever.

She only wants you to recover ASAP, and to feel as content as someone who's sick can be. <333

Jess will be focused solely on you recovering as swiftly as humanely possible.

Is upset when she finds out you're fallen ill.

She'll drive to her home, grab the best shit she has and drives to your home.

Stays with you for days on end.

You've become her priority now, after all.

Jess is a very devoted (and lonely) girl, what can I say.

Will try and comfort you via reading to you, or listening to you talk about literally anything.

She just loves your company and you. Poor girl's been neglected her whole life.

She'll try her hardest to take care of you, and she does a very good job. (Ask Brittney teehee)

You're more than glad to have her.

And she to have you.

Hyugo will be astounded.

You? Got sick?

Why?

Did someone make you sick???? (if so teehee someone's getting food poisoning~)

He's at your home, with everything.

Literally everything.

Blankets, movies, games, medicine, puns, your favourite food and whatever else he deems necessary.

Will hug you if you're not aggressively sneezing/coughing.

Will watch movies with you on the couch with you lying on his plush fucking thighs.

Says the most stupid shit in Japanese (such as teaching you how to hide a body) and making it sound like flirting.

Tells you jokes and puns to make you feel better, until you laugh too hard that is and almost die.

Will make food for you.

Will ramble on about random shit to you, or listen to you talk (if you can).

Literally just seeing you content is more than enough for him.

Deryl will be SHOOKETH.

He will sprint to your fucking house. He doesn't care.

You're his only priority now.

Will magically appear at your home, and immediately hugs you.

You can be fucking dying, he doesn't care.

You're getting squashed.

Will be asking if you're okay 24/7

Until he realises he forgot to bring food.

Then he runs to get it, along with tablets, Panadol, all that jazz.

Like RUNS.

HE WILL RUN.

HE IS A FAST MOTHERFUCKER.

FAST!!!!!

Then he gets tired, so by the time he gets to the store, gets the food (and the 'goods'), he's gonna just call a fucking cab and crash at your place. (he forgot takeout existed lol)

He doesn't mind, and frankly, neither do you. The food and snacks was awesome (well, what you could eat anyway).

Will try his absolute best to take care of you, but often gets carried away with his energy. Often talks and rambles to you while you happily lay in bed next to him and listen.

Will call Geo or Jess for how to make a warm soup to feed you.

Then it becomes 'we've got Masterchefs at home'.

Shit goes crazy when Deryl's around tbh.

And you're more than happy to enjoy the ride (in more ways than one ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)).

[creedslove]

Omg I saw that ask about dad Pedro, can you imagine having a sick baby and Pedro coming home and baby instantly calms

I'm sorry I am a little shit and I changed it to Joel Miller because that screams Joel Miller, I'm very sorry if you don't like it anon :(

post outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: my first time with Joel Miller, I never went past episode one of tlou (but i will, i promise) so idk if it was good

Joel grunted in exhaustion when he finally got home after a patrol. He didn't really like going on patrols anymore, not ever since he got you and your beautiful little girl. He never wanted to be a dad again, not after Sarah, not after the outbreak. But when you showed up pregnant, with sad teary eyes, looking so scared at his reaction, he only wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

Nine months later, little Rose had him wrapped around her tiny little finger. He thought he would never feel that kind of love again, but with his beautiful little baby, he was the softest he could be. He held her all the time, he helped you, he was there all the time, not wanting to miss one single thing from her life.

But Joel would always disappear when Rose got sick.

He knew it was kind of a jerk move, but he just couldn't bear to see the suffering in her face, her cries and how he was absolutely useless in taking her pain away.

That was why when her fever sparked, he immediately volunteered for patrol.

He couldn't keep his thoughts away from you and Rose. He knew he shouldn't have left you alone with her, but at the same time you knew how torturous it was for him.

So when he finally got inside and heard Rose's whimpers, his heart shattered. He was hoping his princess would get well once for all, he just hated how babies got sick, there was nothing more unfair to him than that.

You smiled at the sight of Joel, though you were tired from taking care of Rose the whole day, you were happy and relieved to see him. You missed your man so much and your daughter certainly missed her dada too.

You sat closer to him, rocking the baby gently "her fever broke about an hour ago, so someone got a real nice bath and is now smelling like strawberries" you tickled her tummy so softly but she only let out a small cough "I don't know why she's still crying, Joel" you gave him the same scary eyes from when you told him about the pregnancy and his heart clenched at how much he loved the two of you, at that moment he knew he would be able to take down the whole world just to keep you two safe.

Joel extended his arms and gently took Rose, placing her against his chest, seeing her teary eyes. It was too much for his heart, it felt like it was shattering each time she blinked and watched his face, how she sighed and cooed. He rubbed her back and kissed her delicate head.

"Shh Rosie… dada is here princess" he cooed at her, seeing how she had stopped crying and only paid attention to his voice.

Rose closed her sleepy little eyes and sighed tiredly. Her tiny hand gripped around her dada's finger as tight as she could.

As Joel spoke with her, she began drifting off to sleep, feeling so safe in her dada's arms.

You smiled and kissed his lips before resting your head against his shoulder "see? We both missed you"

____

Got any requests? Send them in!

[sameschmidtdiffname]

feeling a bit weird asking this request since i haven't actually seen anyone write such a thing, but i'd like to ask for something about the parent figure!mike (NOT SMUT OFC), maybe something he's the reader's father or brother or something, if it's not something you could write just ignore !!! (i'm also not a native speaker so i apologize if it sounds impolite i always have this problem :/)

Girl have you read my fics?? Do NAWT come on here talking about feeling weird for a request when I have written shit that's sending me to super hell with Jensen Ackles or whoever played the angel guy from Supernatural. (I hope that joke made sense, I'm not in that fandom </3)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!! Fresh off the press for you pookie <3 (BTW, your English js great and you weren't demanding at all!! Seriously, don't feel bad 😊)

Same Shit, Different Schmidt

Dad! Mike & Gender Neutral! Reader

(This gif always sends me, I'm sorry)

Summery: You are a stubborn ass and Mike is not here to put up with that shit. Where'd you get this attitude, anyways? Is it so hard to just listen?

Tags: No use of Y/N, Reader is Mike's child, this is lowkey a sequel to 'What's One More?' but that is absolutely not required to read this, sickness, reader almost passes out, slight angst, Mike takes care of reader, Mike has a come to Jesus moment, mentions of arguing, injury, underage drinking, Abby and Mike go at it at one point, just a cute lil drabble :)

Notes: it feels illegal to post something so short. Is this allowed?? Anyways, this was so cute to write! Definitely a new approach. I hope you guys like this! Thanks for the request anon, I always love getting them 💗

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

"I'm fine," you groaned emphatically, trying to to rise from the bed, musty from your body's sweat during the night.

"You are not fine, do not bullshit me," Mike scolded. His hands pressed you back onto the bed, his scowl growing as he feels your temperature through your moist shirt. "When did this start?"

"I told mom my throat hurt last night and she gave me some ibuprofen. It's seriously just a cold," you said, trying one more time to rise from the bed.

"You always get a sore throat before you get sick, have since you were a kid. When did the fever start?" His hand feels freezing against your clammy forehead, making you shy away to avoid the chills that threaten you.

"Not hot."

"You want me to call your mom so you can gaslight her, too?" His tone is firm and threatening. "Is there something you're trying to get away with here or...?"

"I have tech tonight for my show, I can't miss," you finally admit. You open your mouth to continue, but Mike quickly cuts you off.

"No. Out of the question," he said.

"Dad, I'll get in trouble-"

"You will get everyone else sick and then what? I said no," he said firmly. But when he sees the way you sink into the bed, eyes sad and finally accepting the situation, he thinks of your mother acting in a similar manner or Abby when she was your age with the same attitude. It makes him relent, pressing his lips tight together. "What do you need me to do?" He asked, voice softer as he strokes your cheek. Your eyes brighten for a moment, a smile breaking out. "You're not going, I'm just asking what I could do to help."

You sink into the bed once more, crossing your arms.

"My director is gonna hate me," you mumble.

"I will deal with her, or she will deal with me. I promise you one's better than the other," he said. At that you crack a smile, finally looking at him.

"Mom's not gonna be pleased either," you said.

"Mom's not gonna let you go either," he said. "I'm getting the thermometer and then I'm moving you to the living room so I can watch you better. You get control of the TV as your consolation prize."

You twirl your finger in the air, rolling your eyes as emit a mocking 'yay,' glaring at him as he shoots the same glare down at you, walking out of the room and slipping his phone out of his pocket to call your mother.

"How upset are they?" She asked on the other side of the phone. He could hear the office chatter going on around her as he searched through the cabinets for the supplements they kept in stock.

"They're not thrilled. Not planning my death yet, but it's coming," Mike huffed. "Is it elderberry that helps with sore throats?"

"Elderberry makes it worse after you get sick, helps before. Don't give them that," she said. There's a slight pause before she adds "You realize this attitude is inherited?"

"Oh," he groaned, sucking on his teeth. "I wasn't gonna throw you under the bus like that."

"I helped raise Abby, do not pin this on me," she laughed.

"I don't deny sickness," Mike said.

"I can name five seperate instances where you did," she countered. Mike froze for a moment, trying to remember. "Just go easy on them. Remember you're dealing with your kid."

"And yours," he countered.

"Supposedly," she teased.

"I'm pretty sure that was you I knocked up."

"But are you sure?"

"Well, there was that one time with your mom."

She laughed. "Have them text me when they can. I'll deal with director, she knows me better."

"Thanks. She terrifies me. Kinda get why they don't wanna miss," Mike admitted. With a quick laugh and a quicker goodbye, Mike clicks off the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He gathered the vitamins in a small cup, grabbed the other needed items and made his way back to the room that used to house his little sister.

"Okay, Mom's dealing with director and is willing to grab dinner of your choice if you'll-" Mike trails off at the sight of your empty bed, worry prickling through and tainting the annoyance rising in his chest. He calls your name, turning to look for you before his ears tune in on the shower running in the bathroom. He sighs, placing the items on your bedside table and making his way to the living room. All is well until about ten minutes after the water shuts off, when he heard a small but sure 'thud' ring from the room.

"Honey?" He called. Nothing.

He rises from his chair, his mind trying to remind himself to stay calm and not jump to its automatic thoughts of harm and anxiety as he walked quickly to the door.

"If you don't answer I'm coming in," he warned. The quiet groan on the otherside is all he needed to quickly open the unlocked door, trying not to panic as he catches sight of you curled up on the floor with your head between your knees.

"I'm fine," you said quietly. "Got dizzy." Your clothes are thrown on haphazardly and it's clear how disoriented you are. Your hair doesn't even look properly washed.

Mike's arms are comforting, familiar and protective as he carefully lifts you up, taking you to the couch as though you weigh nothing to him. When his mind is racing like this, you may as well not.

"What were you thinking?" He asked in a panicked voice. "I told you you weren't going."

"My director hates me and tech is like, our biggest practice. I can't miss," you insisted, barely able to stand the light shining through the open windows. The couch is cool against your skin, the old leather offering relief. Mike had brought it home a few years back, a surprise he'd found at a thrift store with your help. Still pricey but a Christmas gift for everyone in the house. Your mother shook her head as she finally agreed maybe the couch that was as old as her needed to be replaced.

"Your mom is dealing with her and she's gonna deal with you next if you don't listen to either of us," Mike said. He ran back to your room, collecting the items and returning to your side before you could even respond. "Can you just let us take care of you?"

Oh. Oh. Fine, okay. There it is. He hears it now, that point your mother had just been making.

As the thermometer takes longer than he'd like to beep, he sighs at the sight of you looking like death on the couch. "You get this attitude from me," he finally sighed. You raise your brow quizzically, waiting for him to continue. A soft noise emits from the device. Mike takes it from your mouth and scowls at the number that flashes back at him. He hands you a now room temperature cup of throat coat tea with three ibuprofen to help with the fever before he takes your hand.

"Did I tell you about the time your mother had to drag me to the emergency room for stitches on my forehead?" He asked, smiling. You snort, taking another sip of your drink. "It happened when you were little. I don't even think you were two. Abby was going out with this idiot and figured out how to take out the screen in her window so she could sneak out without any of us knowing. This girl was bad news, I mean-"

"Aunt Abby?" You asked.

"What? No. No, the girl she was going out with, Lisa Browning. Had her come home with a belly button piercing once, I wasn't happy about that. Anyways, Abby decided that she was going to this party one night and I'd found her bed empty halfway through the night while I was going to check on you. Well, I decided I was gonna wait for her in her room with the lights off until she got home. So I sat in front of her window and eventually got tired, so I shut my eyes. Figured it couldn't hurt. Took a couple hours, but eventually your mother woke up and my side of the bed was empty and she heard this loud as fuck noise from your aunts room. This is like four in the morning, mind you," he said. "So she jumped out of bed and heard your aunt yelling, saw some guy in dark clothes on the floor, open window and the lights are off, and she's still wiping sleep out of her eyes."

"Oh no," you groaned.

"Oh yes. Grabbed some metal Eiffel Tower thing on Abby's desk and just swung at my head. Hurt like a bitch," he laughed, you joining in as much as you could without hurting your throat. "It was a good hit. I think she realized it was me when I grabbed her ankle and hollered her name cause she stopped right after that. Wasn't too bad, but I wouldn't stop bleeding."

"So did Abby get in trouble?" You asked.

"Are you kidding? I was even more pissed, I chased her down the hallway after her girlfriend climbed in and fell on top of me. I was ready to kill her. Your mother had to drag me and her into the car, go back and grab you and deal with us screaming at each other all the way to the hospital. Not that I wanted to go, I was fine with just pressing a dishcloth to the thing and carrying on with my plan to rip my sister a new one. She had to threaten us both to actually get me inside, and I only conceded because I was too dizzy to object by that point. I think the nurses assumed she was insane. I mean, kid on her hip, dressed in pajamas with some drunk teenager bickering with a guy bleeding from his head at the crack of dawn. I'm surprised no one called the cops. They did have to almost seperate Abby and I, though. Which just upset me more."

"How did they get you to calm down?" You asked.

"Your mother handed you to me while she walked Abby to a bathroom so she could take a go at her. And you were all upset anyways because I wasn't paying attention to you and you didn't understand why the nurses were fuckin' with me or why I was upset. Once I had you in my arms I refocused, calmed down a good bit. Someone brought me a book to read you and we got to focus on that while they prepped me for stitches," he said the last part softly. "I was so glad when Abby got out of her teen rebellion phase."

"She ruined mine," you joked.

"Yeah. She used pretty much every trick in the book, so we were ready for you. Sorry," he said.

"It's fine, I don't like parties."

"I don't either."

Mike's phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it, typing a quick response before refocusing on you. "Your mother wants to know what you're thinking for dinner," he said.

"Chinese?" You asked.

"That comes from your mom's side," he smiled. "She'll be pleased."

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Short but sweet. This was a fun one :)

Taglist:

@jhutchissupercool @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support! <3

Masterlist

[moider-time]

Trans Bruce Wayne? Male to female? Like she loves wearing Martha Wayne's dresses.

Anon you're speaking my language???

Bryce grew up watching her Mama get all dolled up for galas and always connected with that in a way that people say boys shouldn't. Listen Thomas and Martha were definitely the type of parents that didn't care abt gender norms and would let their kid dress however they want. Thomas probably rocked a few dresses in his time.

So Bryce tells them that she feels more like a girl than a boy? They're so accommodating. They get her whatever she needs. The surgery, the drugs, the clothes (but she prefers to wear Martha's too big dresses). Alfred switches from Young Master to Young Madam. It would hit even harder when Thomas and Martha die because those were two of the three people who truly understood her. And now they're gone.

After they die, people feel a bit more comfortable bringing up her 'changes' to her face. Alfred is right by her side but she did have some uncomfortable moments with people. Thomas and Martha definitely protected her from a lot of the media attention and stares.

She still becomes The Bat. I can see her going by Batman to protect her identity even more but also sticking with gender neutral The Bat. People can't tell if The Bat is man or woman which elevates the cryptid vibe she's going for.

The day Martha's dresses fit her perfectly is a bittersweet day. All Bryce has ever wanted is to wear her Mama's dresses properly and now that she can, her Mama isn't there anymore. She sobs into Alfred's arms that day but after that, wears Martha's dresses with pride.

By the time she adopts Dick, she passes so well that he doesn't know she's trans. And it just kind of never comes up? He calls her Mama (which she cries at) or B and that's what all the other kids end up doing. There's some LoA magic/tech involved in Talia giving birth to Damian. He shows up at the manor and upon finding out that Batman is actually a woman, he's impressed.

They find out when the batfam decide to dye their suits for Gotham's Pride Parade and Bryce's suit is the trans flag and her cape is the demiromantic flag. There was a lot of screaming that day.

Jason tries but he just can't fight his Mama, no matter how angry he is at her for not killing the Joker. He spends some time away from the manor but after a lot of talks, screaming, tears and hugs, he comes around. He is also very protective over his Mama, I won't accept otherwise (they all are tbh)

Also let her be tiny?? 5'2, buff Bryce Wayne picking her 6ft+ sons up easily. A tabloid got a picture of Bryce holding Dick up after an attack at the museum by The Riddler. She's in a pretty floral dress, with pink pumps and soot all over her face and her muscled arms covered in blood and scratches. The internet went insane.

Bryce Wayne: *exists*

Gothamites: mommy- sorry mommy- i mean mommy-

Also rip the batkids cause Bryce mothers all their friends too. Shit hits the fan when Jason nearly strangles Garfield cause Bryce gave him a forehead kiss to check if he had a fever.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

See Me, I See You (m, cold)

I present unto you all: a fic that has nothing to do with the fic I promised weeks ago!!! (sorry) I got some GREAT prompts from that prompt list in my inbox and I used a bunch of them in this fic (mostly anons, but @sniction-fiction and @sneezycold19 both of your prompts are featured in this).

Greyson gets a cold, Elijah catches it...that's pretty much it! No real plot just colds and vibes. Oh, and there's a little bit of ~angst~ thrown in because it's me. I hope you guys enjoy it <3

cw: male, colds, contagion, fevers. 3k-ish words under the cut. Let me know what y'all think!

See Me, I See You

Greyson shifted from foot to foot in the cold of the alleyway, willing Elijah to text him back. He read the text over again for the third time, hoping it sounded nonchalant enough to avoid his boss’s wrath.

heyyy, are you on your way in?

It was already ten in the morning; normally, Elijah was already at the restaurant by now. Normally, his boss wasn’t given the chance to be aware of Greyson’s chronic key-losing issue.

Three minutes passed. His fingers were starting to tingle. Did you leave your gloves wherever you left your fuckin’ keys, moron? Four minutes. Five. C’mon, Elijah, I’m getting desperate.

Finally, at the six minute mark, a text from his boss popped up. I was planning on taking today off. Why, do you need something?

“Fuck,” Greyson muttered, pulling a frozen hand down his face. Of all days, why was today the one Elijah decided to take off?

There was, Greyson decided after a few more freezing minutes pacing the alleyway, nothing to do but tell the truth. Bracing himself for the explosion, Greyson typed out a message. uhhh...kinda. I may or may not have misplaced my keys…

By some sort of stroke of either insanely terrible timing or the worst luck known to man, the minute Greyson pressed the arrow to send his message, a second text from Elijah came through. Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me, Greyson thought, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach as he read the text from his boss.

I caught your fckn cold, so if you need something can it wait til tomorrow?

***

On Saturday, Greyson couldn’t stop sneezing.

“Hh-! HhIGSTHH-ue! HTSHH!” For the third time in an hour, Greyson wrenched into his elbow, away from the prep table. He groaned, annoyed – prepping this tasting menu for twenty was going to take ten times longer than normal if he couldn’t get this shit under control.

“Bless, bless,” Elijah said, distractedly leafing through the inventory papers on his clipboard. “Coming down with something?”

Greyson cleared his throat, pawed at his nose. Shrugged. “Does it matter? It’s Saturday. Not like I could leave if I wanted to.” The chef washed his hands in the sink near their office, sniffling. He trudged back to his prep, checked his watch – ten thirty AM. Matt was scheduled for noon, and Greyson could already taste the cigarette he was going to savor when his sous took over this prep.

“Mmm, snippy,” Elijah said, scribbling something on the inventory sheets. “Must be a pretty bad one.”

“The fuck are you on about?” Greyson asked, sinking his knife back into the yellowtail he was slicing. He sucked in through his nose, again, again, again to keep from contaminating the fish – on the third sniff, he ducked under the table to protect his product. “HGSTHHZUE! Fuck.”

“That cold,” Elijah said, finally looking up from his paperwork. “It must be pretty bad if you’re in such a shit mood.” Greyson’s face colored. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, flipped his boss the bird. Elijah just shrugged.

“Do you want a coffee? Or a tea, or something?” he asked, pushing himself out of his chair and approaching the chef. Greyson had gone back to thinly slicing the hamachi; he didn’t answer. “Hellooo, earth to Grey -”

“HTSHH! Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!” Greyson turned toward Elijah, sneezing into his elbow once more to avoid the fish. Elijah jumped out of the way just in time.

“Christ, warn a guy, won’t you?” he said, checking his outfit for signs of spray. Greyson cleared his throat, put his knife back on the prep table, and slunk to the office in search of a tissue.

“Get outta the splash zone if you don’t want to get wet,” he muttered, blowing his nose and tossing the tissue. “Ndo, I don’t want any coffee or tea. I just want to get this shit done so I can have a cigarette.” The chef washed his hands again, and took his place at the prep table once more. At this point, this won’t be done until next fuckin’ week, he thought, exhausted.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Elijah asked, leaning on the prep table. Greyson deadpanned his boss, hoping the knife in his hand made him look at least a little threatening.

“Do I think what is a good idea?”

“A cigarette.”

“I always think a cigarette is a good idea. Don’t you?”

Elijah shrugged again, eyes trained on the knife Greyson slid through the fish. “I mean, usually. When I’m not sick as hell, absolutely.” The two of them caught eyes then, a challenge. Their stares stayed locked until Greyson was forced to turn away to cough. Elijah made a noise in the back of his throat, a mix between a laugh and a coo of pity.

“Don’t fuckin’ patronize me,” Greyson growled, his voice sticky and rough already. The backs of his eyes burned, his throat felt swollen, and his joints were aching; he wasn’t ready to admit it, but Elijah’s perception was correct. He felt like shit.

“I’m not patronizing you, Chef,” Elijah promised, pulling something out of his back pocket. “C’mon. Take a break.” He waved the pack of cigarettes he’d produced in front of Greyson’s face, motioned toward the back door. “I’ll let you bum one.”

Greyson, too tired to continue the fight, just nodded. “Alright,” he said, untying his apron. “Thangks.”

Elijah took in a deep breath, ready to say something, but instead just sighed. “Don’t mention it.”

***

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Greyson thought as he re-read his boss’s text. If Greyson knew one thing about Elijah, it was this: he’d have to be down bad to take an unscheduled day off of work. And for him to admit to illness, unprompted? The man must have been on his death bed.

Quick as he could, Greyson began typing out a response.

ah, fuck, sorry boss. don’t worry about it, I’ll text matt. sorry to bother you, hope youre ok.

Greyson sent the text, only to be filled with dread all over again when Elijah answered back immediately.

I thought Matt and Mark were doing that off property event in rochester today?

Fucking shit, Greyson thought pressing his head to the freezing cold of the back kitchen door. His mind, mocking, flashed him back to last night; Matt and Mark packing up the company van with food for a Christmas dinner one of their regulars was hosting at his mansion in the country. Greyson had waved them goodbye, told Matt to call him if he had any questions on the dishes they’d decided he’d make. In his panic, Greyson must have blacked it out.

oh, he typed to his boss. yeah, I guess they are. no worries, im sure my keys are in my apartment ill just run back and grab them.

His apartment, both of them knew, was a forty minute train ride from the restaurant. Cooks would begin showing up in forty-five minutes. The pit in Greyson’s stomach grew larger still when the bubbles that signaled Elijah typing popped up and went away, popped up and went away.

Finally, the text they both knew was coming but ate Greyson alive even so: I can stop by and let you in. give me 20 minutes.

***

By Sunday, Greyson was fairly sure he was dying.

First, he was freezing; when he came in at the ass-crack of dawn that morning to prepare for Sunday brunch, Elijah had barely been able to stifle a laugh.

“Um,” his boss said, raising an eyebrow, “what are you, uh… wearing?”

Greyson flashed Elijah a watery glare before his eyes glazed over and he pitched forward into the scarf the was wrapped tightly around his neck. “Hh...hhIGTSZH-ue! ETSCHH-ue! Huh -! hh...hhNGSTHH-ue!” He sniffled and wiped his nose on the wool of the scarf before addressing his boss.

“A scarf,” he said, his voice a low monotone. “I’mb cold.”

Elijah nodded slowly, taking the chef in. His hood was pulled over his long, shaggy, unwashed blond waves; his eyes were red-rimmed, dark-circled, and wet with irritation; the bow under his nose was damp and scarlet from wiping, and none of this was to mention the scarf-turned-tissue that had clearly seen better days. “I think… I think you should go home, Chef,” he said, choosing his words carefully.

Greyson didn’t answer; instead, he turned away to cough into the germ-infested scarf. After a few moments of coughing, her turned back and shook his head. “Brunch,” he rasped, attempting to clear his throat.

“Let’s call Matt in,” Elijah said.

“He’s workigg dinner,” Greyson insisted. Elijah pressed his fingers into his eyes, let out a long sigh.

“I think one day of working double shifts isn’t going to kill him,” Elijah said, giving Greyson a pointed look.

“I’mb ndot making my employees work a double shift whend I’m ndot,” Greyson said. “That’s ndot how I operate.”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, his temper beginning to flare, “you sound absolutely fucking awful. And you can barely stand. How do you plan on prepping and executing brunch when you’re swaying on your feet, hmm?”

There was a silence that stood between them then. It ballooned, filling the kitchen, begging one of them to break it. Finally, Greyson’s body took over; he shuddered, dipped back into his scarf and turned away from Elijah.

“Hh-ETSCHH-ue! HUTSHH-ue! Huh...Hh! Hh...hnnn.” Greyson glanced blearily at the cold fluorescent lights in the kitchen, trying to coax the last sneeze out. “Huh-! hnn...hh, huhhh…”

“For God’s sake, Greyson,” Elijah said, allowing the frustration to seep into his voice. “Would you just fucking snee -”

“HRRRTSHHH-ue!” The last one tore out of the chef, left him dazed and panting, turned into a flurry of wet coughs. Elijah winced, but took a few steps forward and placed a hand on Greyson’s forehead. Greyson didn’t have it in him to stop his boss.

“Wow,” Elijah said, raising his eyebrows as he gently pulled his hand away from Greyson’s head. “That’s some fever you’re sporting, kid.”

Greyson felt his eyes begin to water; he bit the inside of his cheek, looked away, and took in as deep a breath as he could without making himself cough again.

“Mbaybe… maybe we could call Mbatt in for brunch just this once.”

***

The twenty minute wait was excruciating.

To keep warm, and to distract himself, Greyson paced from one side of the alleyway to the other, trying to remember whether he’d noticed signs of Elijah getting sick the evening before. His boss was fairly talented at keeping illnesses under wraps in the beginning stages, but was there really a way he’d gone from fine enough to keep it under wraps to so ill he needed the day off in twelve hours? Greyson thought back to the end of last week, when he’d been hit head-on with the cold from hell his boss was now gifted with; it had moved quickly, sure, but definitely not that quickly.

Elijah had certainly been quiet last night, but that tended to be par for the course when they were busy. It had been extra busy, especially for a Tuesday, so Greyson hadn’t really seen much of Elijah. Guilt coursed through his body, and he pulled out his phone once again to text Matt and Mark in a group chat.

hey, guys. hope you’re ready for your event tonight, can’t wait to hear about it. random question for both of u: did elijah seem alright to you both last night?

The wait for a text back wasn’t long; the two younger managers were clearly bored. With several hours to go until their dinner and everything pre-prepped, they were most likely just hanging out on their phones in the spare bedroom they were staying in.

are you serious? Matt’s text came through first. Then, a moment after, one from Mark.

I mean...if by ‘alright’ you mean pissed off and sick then ya I guess lmao.

Greyson’s heartbeat thumped in his ears. He typed back quickly, pointedly. he was sick last night?

chef, u really had the blinders on big time last night lol, Matt texted back.

Which makes sense, it was busy! Mark’s text said, an attempt to cushion the blow. But ya he was for sure coming down with something. Is he ok today?

Before he could type out a response, Elijah’s car turned into the alleyway. Greyson put his phone away and waved, guilty. Time to face the music.

***

Monday, thankfully, was like a salve to Sunday’s burn.

“Morning, Chef,” Elijah said, joining Greyson in their shared office. Greyson pulled out one of his headphones to return the greeting, smiled at his boss.

“Mborning,” he said, his voice still cracked and congested.

“How’re you feeling?” Elijah asked, cutting straight to the chase. Greyson rolled his eyes, shrugged. Smiled a bit.

“Better,” he said, sheepishly. “Much better. Thangks for holding down the fort yesterday, I really owe you one.”

Elijah laughed as he clicked his mouse to wake his computer. “Chef, it’s technically my fort. It’s my job to hold it down.”

“Still.”

The GM nudged his friend, playful. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “Glad you’re feeling better. I was worried you weren’t going to make it through the night.”

Greyson barked out a laugh that turned into a soupy-sounding cough. “You’re so fuckin’ dramatic,” he said. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Mmm,” Elijah murmured. “That’s what we’re classifying as ‘not that bad’ now? That’s wild. Don’t show me ‘bad’, okay? I don’t think my little heart can handle it.”

Greyson flipped Elijah off at that, and turned back to his computer. The two of them sat, working silently except for the occasional riff or cough from Greyson, until it was time to get ready for service.

All was well. At least, that’s what Greyson thought.

***

“HhhNGSTH-uh! HTSHH-uhn! Hh...hhRTTSHH-oo!”

Ah, fuck, Greyson thought as he watched Elijah slip out of his car. I’m an ass.

***

On Tuesday, there were a myriad of clues Greyson didn’t notice.

He didn’t notice the Elijah slunk into the kitchen an hour later than he normally did; unheard of for him. The chef had been busy prepping when his boss made his way to their office and sunk into his chair, fingers pressed into his aching eye sockets.

“Morning, boss,” Mark said, stopping into the office. Elijah looked up, bleary, and Mark’s face shifted into one of concern. “You alright?”

“Greyson’s fuckin’ cold,” he muttered, coughing hard into his elbow. “It’s a fuckin’ bear.”

Mark put an easy hand on his boss’s forehead, his face knotted with anxiety. “Take anything?” he asked. Elijah shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “But I will. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t notice when Elijah ducked out back to have a drawn-out fit of sneezing; Greyson was inside, lecturing Matt and Mark on exactly how to put together the dinner they were going to be doing in Rochester the next day when his boss pushed outside into the cold of the alley. Elijah had managed to collect himself just as Greyson followed him out the back kitchen doors.

“Christ,” Greyson said shaking his head and sitting down on a milk crate next to his boss. “Sometimes, man. This job is like running a fuckin’ daycare.”

Elijah nodded, unsure of how his voice would sound if he spoke. They sat in silence for a few moments, until Greyson produced a pack of cigarettes.

“Bum one?” he asked Elijah, shaking two from the pack. “I owe you.”

“Sure,” Elijah said, his voice cracking on the single syllable. Greyson lit them both up, didn’t mention his boss’s voice. He took a long drag while Elijah ducked into his elbow.

“NTSH! GTSH! HTSH!” Elijah stifled a volley of sneezes into his shirt, sat up near-gasping. He turned toward Greyson, stared at his friend, waiting – what for, he wasn’t entirely sure. Pity? Sympathy? Acknowledgment?

Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t get it. Greyson stubbed out his cigarette and stood without a word. “See you back in there, boss,” he said.

The un-smoked cigarette hung from Elijah’s fingers, burning bright in his hand. He sneezed once, uncovered, creating a cloud of condensation in front of his face. He stubbed the cigarette out, choked back a cough, and headed back inside.

Greyson didn’t even notice when, at nine PM, Elijah parked himself in their closed-off private dining room and laid his head down on the stripped table, cool marble on his overheated face.

“Lij? Boss?” Elijah heard the voice come in before he could sit himself upright. He turned blearily towards the door and saw Matt standing in the doorway, his face painted with concern.

“Shit, Lij, you look like fuckin’ hell,” Matt said, sitting next to Elijah. “I mean, Mark said you weren’t well but Jesus Christ.”

“’m okay,” Elijah shrugged, and turned away from Matt. “Huh! HhIGSTZH-oo! ITSHZH-uh!” He hitched in preparation of another sneeze, sighed when it escaped him.

“Bless you,” Matt said. “I came in to tell you that Greyson wanted your input on a dish he’s working on in the back, but I’ll tell him to fuck off. You need to go home.”

Wanted input on a dish. Elijah would have snorted if he was sure it wouldn’t have ended in a disaster of a mess; of course he wanted his input. The man was in the fucking clouds, apparently; too high to realize he’d left his best friend sunk in the muck that was this nightmare of a headcold.

“That would be great, Mbatt,” Elijah said, attempting a smile. “Thangk you.”

Greyson didn’t even notice, Elijah knew without knowing, that his boss had left without saying goodnight.

***

“Elijah, fuck, dude I’m so sorry for dragging you out here.”

The GM just shrugged, clearly too tired and ill to make a quip. He ran the sleeve of his NYU sweatshirt under his running nose and moved slowly towards the back door. The keys shook in his hand; it took what felt like an eon to open it.

Finally, the door swung open. “You’re in,” Elijah said, his voice barely a whisper. “Do you thingk you cand handle tondight on your own?”

“Yeah, of course, boss, but… shit. Lij, I’m so sorry dude. I can’t believe I didn’t notice you were sick, I mean -”

Elijah held up a hand to stop the chef’s babbling. “Grey,” he rasped, “it’s okay. We’ll call it you getti’g even at mbe for ndever ndoticing you were sick when you first started.”

“That was six years ago. You had an excuse, you didn’t even know me; I know you, I know when you’re sick, I feel like such an ass. I’ve been wracking my brain, pacing around back here trying to figure out how I didn’t realize -”

“HTSHH-oo! ETSCHHH-uh!” Elijah cut the chef off again, folded in half, his face in his sleeve. He sucked in through his nose, stood slowly.

“Bless,” Greyson said, guiltily.

“Thangks,” Elijah said. “And it’s okay. Ndo one is infallible.” He shivered, rubbed his arms with his hands. Greyson held the door open.

“Obviously if you don’t want to stay you don’t have to,” he said, “but… if you want to hang for a bit, I can make you some tea? Or soup? Make it up to you for coming out here because of my stupidity?”

Elijah attempted a scoff that ended in a cough. “Greyson. It’s really okay.”

“I feel badly,” Greyson admitted. They stood locked in that old game of chicken yet again. This time, it was Elijah that broke the spell.

“HRRRSHH-uhh! Goddamn,” he muttered, shaking his head. He looked up at Greyson, forgiveness written on his pallid face. “Mbe too,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. “This cold is a fuckin’ mbonster.”

Greyson laughed, an almost-hysterical sound that made palpable his relief at being forgiven. “Oh, Lij,” he said, closing the door behind them, “no one knows that better than me.”

[fatuismooches]

heyyy basically

i’m feeling absolutely shit rn bc i’ve worked myself into an utter state (god i’m praying i don’t faint after my exam and nullify it) so like what better to do than to come up with a brainrot

just imagine, it’s fragile! reader and they’ve got an upcoming assessment, biggest of the semester but fuck they just can’t study. their headaches are debilitating and constant but they push through anyways because god they need to get that score. they can’t fall behind now. and dottores been watching you all day, he knows he can’t get in your way, you were practically unstoppable; it was one of the things that drew him to you in the first place. but rn? god rn seeing you like this planted a strange feeling in his cold excuse of a heart and he knew he couldn’t just leave you like this. without a word, he saunters over, and gently pries the quill from your hands, you protest but you haven’t the energy for much more really and so you let him. you let him guide you to the bed and you let him lay you down and slip in next to you. he wasn’t a man who thought much of ‘cuddles’ or whatever the hell you called it. yet he wraps his arms around you, gentle yet so firm you’d think a breeze could snatch you away. yet he cradles a hand behind your head and runs his fingers through your tresses, combing out knots, combing out stress. yet he presses you against him and lets the unspoken reassurances flow onto you through the way he pulls you under his sanctity. ‘don’t break yourself’ whispered his fingers as they traced meaningless alchemical symbols on your skin. ‘you’re perfect the way you are, you don’t need to do this’ reassured the proximity between the two of you. the only word that was vocalised between in the quiet sanctuary was your name. there it hung, palpable and present in the air. and nothing more was needed to be said

LOL SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG, can u tell i’m dying for comfort rn 😭

HOPE THAG MAKES IP FOR MY ABSENCE LMAOO

-🌕💗

🌕 ANON?? THAT FIRST SENTENCE IS VERY ALARMING PLEASE REST??? Studying and working are important but you and your wellbeing are more important 💖 Balance is key, please make sure to relax 😔 But the brain rot? *chef kiss*

If you had the energy to, you'd laugh at how poor your situation was. This... mysterious illness of yours just had to appear when finals were right around the corner. If it was just a cold or a slight fever, you could have worked through it, just as you had many times before, but this pain was unlike any you ever had endured. But anyway, surely you could get through this. It was only a few more days, and you absolutely had to do good. Especially since this professor was notorious for his long and complicated exams. Especially because you couldn't bear to think what would happen if you fell behind. What Zandik would think of you.

You could always tell when Zandik was looking at you because anyone really could feel the piercing stare he gave off. You two studied in the same room but in different spaces for maximum concentration and organization. You used to ask him questions and such but you've been far too quiet now for his liking after since you became sick. And while he does admire how perseverant you are to knowledge, he does not enjoy forcing you to go to sleep or watching you barely touch your food while studying. Even he has to acknowledge the limitations of humanity. No human can properly function like this.

The silence he used to crave becomes unsettling, and he shall tolerate it no more. You don't even notice him coming up behind you, thinking he's too focused on his own stuff, so when your pen is plucked from you rather easily you're surprised for a good few seconds. You're opening your mouth to protest but the words don't come out when you see the expression on your lover's face. Zandik gives you a look that you have only seen a few times but understands well - the one where he will have his way, he won't take no for an answer.

So when he pulls you from your desk and lays you on the bed, you can't help but mutter some grumbles as to how you were perfectly fine, and he did this kind of stuff before so why couldn't you do it, which he promptly shuts you up with a flick to the forehead and soft blankets. He doesn't verbalize it but it's because you are clearly tired and sick. You are sick with something he doesn't understand for once in his life and he cannot seem to find any kind of information or research or anything whether it was from hundreds of years ago to a few. And you are pushing yourself through it with no knowledge of the consequences, and no knowledge means no predictability. And then means there is uncertainty which he does not like when it comes to you. For once, he is unsure. Zandik does not enjoy that feeling.

When he initiates the act of cuddling you are surprised but do not question or tease him for once, as comfort was what you desired the most now. Your senses were all hazy from the onslaught of illness and studying and he was being so un-Zandik-like but you lived for moments like these. Your brain had trouble processing his movements but he was doing all the things you enjoyed, fuzziness and heat warming your body. You could make out the lines being drawn on your body, a habit he tended to do unconsciously. The rubbing of your skin in the sore places from studying nonstop. No words needed to be said. Zandik wasn't very adept with flowery words anyway, and you preferred it that way. This meant more than words could convey, and you fell asleep quickly in your beloved's arms.

Zandik looked at you, completely knocked out with not-so-subtle eyebags. Your painfully weak grasp on his shirt. You were far smarter than what a test said anyway. He himself knew that for sure. Maybe that final of yours will be postponed. Better yet, canceled. He'll see what he can do.

Whenever I'm in Sumeru I'm always reminded of how I'd NEVER EVER join the Akademiya because of how hellish it seems, so much work and years to graduate, too much thinking, way too many smart people there who would talk circles around me, uniform, studying, failing, no sleep, and then there are students like Layla barely surviving 😭 I have no talent but sign me up for theater 🙏

Anyway... I appreciate all short and long brain rots, they're so 🥰 I wish I could provide more comfort but... *hugs you* <33

[animentality]

An idea based on a dream I had where Durge got sick and Gortash got roped into taking care of them: Durge is in bad shape, running a fever and constantly faint and nauseous. But they're Bhaal's Chosen and they cannot show weakness dammit, so they keep acting like everything is normal. Until they collapse in Wyrm's Rock on their way to meet Gortash. Gortash hauls them to his room and commands them to stay there and rest until they feel better.

At first he tries to have servants or Banites tend to them so he can keep working, but even in their diminished state they're strong enough to kill them, so he has to take care of them himself. "You're behaving like a petulant child," he chides them one night after he brings them soup and they insist they can feed themselves (even though they're burning up and can barely sit up on their own). "I'm not supposed to get sick," they grumble back.

"My dear, you live in a sewer, bathe in blood, and eat human flesh. I'm surprised you didn't get sick sooner."

"No, you don't understand. I'm Bhaal's dead flesh given life. I can't get sick, not unless my Father wills it. He must be terribly angry with me."

"Why would he be angry with you?" They don't answer, just shove the soup aside and turn away.

Later Gortash finds them passed out at his desk where they were still trying to work through their fever and shakes, and he finds them leaned over The Prayer for Forgiveness. Something they wrote while sick to the point of deliriousness. Something they don't remember writing when the fever breaks a few days later. Something he always carried with him, but didn't have the courage to ask them about, and then he lost them.

AHHHAHHHHHHWHHHHHHH.

OK you already got me with doting boyfriend Gortash who needs the dark urge to settle down, to let him take care of them, but fuck.

bringing in the prayer of forgiveness??? shit.

that would be goddamn perfect now wouldn't it

even in all their strength, ignoring their own humanity for decades, presenting a powerful facade of cunning and devilishly evil cruelty, when they're vulnerable and weak, they confess their failings to themselves and to father... and their greatest failing is their fondness for Enver Gortash.

and maybe father didn't notice but they noticed and they're ashamed and they're so, so sorry.

and this coming at the tail end of a horrible fever... when they're at their lowest...

that being the only time they can even admit to themselves that they were fond of Gortash... eurgh.

perfect, anon. you're perfect.

[honeyedmiller]

could you do a fluffy pedro pascal x reader where the reader has severe food poisoning and pedro takes care of her? i’m talking tooth rotting fluff (i had food poisoning last week and the thought of that man taking care of me :’)

Ooooh I LOVE this concept. Pedro would be such a gentle care taker :') dedicating this one to you, anon. Hope you're feeling better!<3

warnings: fluff, some swearing, mentions of vomiting, mentions of illness.

word count: 1.2k

[not revised so sorry if there's any mistakes]

-

You felt like absolute shit.

For the past few hours, you've been wrapped around the toilet in your shared bathroom, vomiting all the contents in your stomach.

You groaned in agony as you decided to lay your head on the cold bathroom floor. Your body was burning up and you physically felt so helpless.

You heard the front door of your house open and close, signaling to you that your boyfriend just got home. He'd just gotten back from an interview, so he had no idea the state you were currently in.

He left the house in the early hours of the morning before you woke up to rush to the bathroom. You'd been in there ever since, not having the strength to get up and get your phone from your nightstand beside your bed.

"Y/n, baby, I'm home!" Pedro chirped from downstairs, but you couldn't even bring yourself to respond to him. You felt so dizzy and hot. You started to tremble on the bathroom floor, never experiencing food poisoning this severe in your life.

"Y/n?" Pedro called again, and you heard his footsteps nearing the bathroom. The door was wide open, so he easily saw your body slack on the floor.

He rushed into the bathroom, brows furrowed. Sadness tugged at his heart instantaneously.

"What's wrong?" He whispers, seeing your face drained of that cute rosy blush that always occupied your cheeks.

"Food poisoning." You barely manage to whisper, wincing at the effort it even took you to speak.

"Oh, my honey," Pedro's voice was laced with sincerity, "can you sit up for me?" He reached for your disheveled hair and ran a hand through it, being as gentle as he possibly could. You ever so slightly shake your head no, and he nods in coherency.

He moves to put the back of his hand against your forehead, eyes widening at how hot you felt.

"Baby, you're burning. Let's get you into a bath." His voice was soft and gentle, as if he was going to hurt you if he raised it any higher.

You groaned at the thought of even moving a muscle.

"I know, honey, I know. It'll make you feel better though and help you break the fever, I promise." He rubs your arm softly, his touch giving you goosebumps.

"Okay." You faintly say. You didn't want to feel like this, so the sooner you could break the fever, the better.

"I'm gonna go get you a change of clothes. I'll be right back, mama." He kisses your temple before moving his body from the bathroom floor. Not even two seconds after he left the room, the overwhelming feeling of nausea returned. You scrambled onto your knees and once again, emptied the contents in your stomach— which was literally nothing at this point— into the toilet bowl.

Pedro came back quickly once he heard you, clean sweatpants and t-shirt in hand. He set the clothing items on the counter and gently gathered all of your hair to the back of your head, rubbing your back gently.

"It's okay, honey. Let it out." He tries reassuring you, and his gentle touch brings you peace while you feel like your insides are withering. You hated that he had to see you like this, but you couldn't dwell too much. You were thankful he was here to help you feel better in any way possible.

Once you were done and flushed the toilet, Pedro helped you stand on your feet. You had to grip the bathroom counter in order for him to undress you. The cool air of the house cooled your aching, heated body.

Pedro drew a lukewarm bath, helping you into the tub once it was filled a good amount. He squeezed some body wash onto a loofah and ran it over your body, gently cleansing you as best as he could. His gentle touch and soothing words was enough to make you tear up.

"What's wrong, baby? Why are you crying?" His deep brown eyes flashed concern, and you weakly smiled at him.

"You're just so good to me. Thank you for taking care of me." You whisper, and his eyes soften. He moved toward you and plants a sweet kiss on your forehead.

"Of course, sweetheart, I'll always take care of you." His smile was soft and endearing, and if you didn't feel like crap, you'd be kissing him so lovingly and passionately.

He took his time cleaning you up and washing your hair, letting the water run down your body to soothe you. Once he was done, he got you out of the tub and helped dry you off before dressing you in your fresh pair of clothes. He brushed your hair for you, and while doing so, you could see the look of absolute love and adoration in his eyes.

This man was so, so good to you.

"C'mon honey, let's get you to bed." He set your brush down on the counter, kissing your head before leading you to the bedroom. Once you were snuggled under the comforter, Pedro changed into some joggers and a t-shirt himself before climbing into bed next to you.

He wrapped you in his strong arms as you laid your head on his chest, feeling exhausted. You knocked out in no time, enjoying being comforted by your loving boyfriend.

-

You groggily opened your eyes, the sun shining through the window. You didn't know what time it was, and the bed next to you was now empty, but you felt so much better. Your stomach still felt a bit heavy, but there wasn't a nauseating feeling residing in you any longer. You sat up slowly and rubbed your eyes, trying to wake yourself up to the best of your ability.

Pedro walked into the room, a beaming smile immediately taking over his face.

"Hi sweetheart. How are you feeling?" He strides over to your side of the bed, putting the back of his hand against your forehead. You no longer had a fever, which flooded Pedro with silent relief.

"Much better," Your voice was much stronger from when you were in the tub. "What time is it?" You look up at the brown eyes you've adored for so long, and the corners of them crinkle when he lets out a chuckle.

"It's the next day, my love. You've been asleep for fifteen hours." He sits down next to you, a laugh still laced in his voice.

"Fifteen hours?" You repeat back to him in absolute disbelief.

"Yeah. You looked so peaceful, I didn't wanna wake you. But now that you are, how 'bout I make you a nice bowl of chicken noodle soup?" He reaches out to your face, putting a hand on your cheek. You instantly melt into his touch as a soft smile spreads itself onto your lips.

"I'd love that," You put your forehead against his, pecking his nose quickly. "Thank you for taking care of me. I love you, handsome." You smile and lean back a little so you can look into his eyes.

"Anything for you. I love you too, my baby. So much." He leans in and presses his soft lips against your own, smiling into the kiss.

Your heart melted, and once again, you were left wondering how you got the best partner in the world— through and through, you knew you could always count on him... especially in sickness and in health.

[onestepbackwards]

Hello! can I ask for a follow-up to your self aware au on ingo and emmet in which they cheer the sad reader who has had a long and heavy working week. maybe one where the reader discovers that the train twins have become self aware or where the two come out of the 3ds. Bonus points if you write both situations

Hello Anon! I wrote them mentioning their awareness, but ended up not writing them coming out of the DS, sorry about that! It was a bit hard to write this one.  Still, I hope you enjoy! CW: Self aware characters, slight obsessive characters if you squint. Word Count: 3426 words!

Something odd had been happening to you as of late. A lot of odd things. It started a few days ago, after you had come home from a bad day at work. The week so far hadn’t been great, and that day specifically had been rather… shit, if you were being honest. One of the first things you had done, much like you had every day earlier this week, was curl up, and play Pokemon Black 2. But something had happened that day. You had received a call from Ingo and Emmet in the game, which you knew was not originally possible. You would have heard about that online with the resurgence of submas content. You had even been able to respond to them with the keypad in game, and they responded, asking if you would like to ‘hang out’ with them. After that, they followed your little character sprite around in the overworld. Occasionally little chat bubbles appeared above their head, and you could go into 3v3 battles with them. That was definitely not in the original game. Ingo and Emmet never left Gear Station after their initial battle in Nimbasa. Nor should they be able to follow you around for 3v3 battles. You would have certainly seen something about that online, or at least seen gifs about it. At the time, you had wondered if you had a hacked copy, but it made no sense. Your parents had bought a retail copy, and you doubt they would have gone to the effort of repackaging a DS game just to lie to you about it. If it had been used, they would have just told you. You had also lent the game to someone for a month to play on your profile, to see if they enjoyed the gameplay. That friend had no idea how to hack game cartridges, and it would have been an impressive hack for only one month of work in the early 2010’s. However, you didn’t really care to think about this. Because if you were being honest… It made you happy. Having both Ingo and Emmet talk to you, and have fun battles with you was a dream come true. After the day you had, you were willing to ignore all oddities about it, and enjoy yourself. It had been a few days since then. When you had woken up the day after, you had immediately wondered if everything that had happened had been a fever dream. Maybe you had forgotten to eat, and went to bed straight away? Your brain simply making you think of Pokemon, and what you wanted to happen. But… You knew it wasn’t a dream. Your dreams were never that realistic. That, and the food you had eaten while playing the game was gone, the remains in the trash were even still there. It hadn’t been a dream. That left you with a lot of questions, and not many answers. If everything that happened that evening had been real, then why? How? Questions flowed through your mind, and you couldn’t help but feel… hesitant. If everything that had happened was as real as you remembered, then why your game? Did your game just allow Ingo and Emmet to talk and interact with you? The only logical thing you can think of is modifications, but again, you know that was not possible. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t touch your DS the rest of that day. As much as you were curious, you weren’t entirely sure you could handle what you might see. Though, you couldn’t help but feel guilty about it when you had gone to bed that night. It’s not like the game did anything wrong, but you weren’t sure where to go from here. Your curiosity would eventually win out though. That, and the stress from your job. Pokemon has become a part of your routine for destressing. You were beginning to miss playing it after work, especially since your job hadn’t lightened up any since last week. Which led you to these past few days. You eventually gave in to your curiosity, and your desire to play more. Opening your DS and turning on the game, everything seemed normal. When you loaded in, you were exactly where you had last been before closing the game. For a moment, you could only stare. Everything seemed normal, you could already feel doubt seeping into your chest. Deciding to walk around a little bit, you began to move through some nearby grass, and entered an encounter. Those seemed normal too. No 3v3 battles with pokemon that had levels scaled to your own. It was just… normal. Hesitantly, you played a while, battling pokemon, and attempting to catch a few you didn’t have yet. You at least wanted to pretend to be productive. Though you couldn’t help but have your thoughts wander to Gear Station. Should you go check on them? Ingo and Emmet? You honestly couldn’t help but feel a bit… guilty that you haven’t. They lifted your mood so well the other night, and you left. Didn’t even return for a few days to say thank you. That is, if they could even be thanked in the first place. You had fought with yourself a bit, before going back to Nimbasa. It wouldn’t hurt to check on them at least, and maybe get some answers? If nothing happened, well, you could at least challenge the subway again like you usually do. Though you were surprised when you saw both the twins sprites in the hub of Gear Station. Like before, when both noticed you, a small ‘!’ appeared over their heads when you entered. Eagerly, they both approached your character, and pulled you into a conversation. “Greetings! It’s good to see you again!” Ingo spoke, his sprite on your left, while Emmet’s stopped to your right. “Yup! Verrry good to see you in fact. We were getting worried after you left for a few days.” Emmet followed up. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes. Again, you were sure this wasn’t normal for either version of this game. But deep down, you already knew that. Idly, your mind began to wander for a moment. If they were here, interacting with you like this, would they want to do battles like before? Before you could dwell on it, you continued the conversation. You were almost surprised, and a bit excited. “What would you like to do today? Are you here to challenge the subway?” Ingo asked you, and Emmet’s sprite cutely bounced in place. “Oh! Or would you like us to join you again?” He asked. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost say he was excited. Well, as excited as a sprite on a screen could be. But you couldn’t help but get excited yourself, your heart pounding in your chest. It hadn’t been a dream at all! That night, it all had been real! You agreed to let them travel with you again, and battle with you. It had just been like that one night. They both followed your character around, and joined you for battling. Just like before, the pokemon seemed to scale to your own, and you would even see pokemon you haven't caught yet. It was great at first. Amazing even!

But once again, you had more questions than answers. For starters, something Emmet had said continued to ring in your head. He had said something along the lines of being worried when you hadn’t appeared for a few days. You were aware the game used your clock in your DS, but you didn’t think most characters kept track of the time like that. Other little things happened afterwards. They would talk as if they were watching you, ask you about your day, and they would remember things you told them. Both of them seemed to recall you talking about your job, and would briefly ask about it every so often. Sometimes even asking if they treated you well. Or they would ask about your favorite meal, or your favorite snacks. You were a bit suspicious, and only one idea really seemed plausible at this point, even if it sounded crazy. Ingo and Emmet somehow seemed almost… aware. You didn’t want to believe it, but you couldn’t think of any other way they were like this, than a hacked copy of your game, and that was impossible. It seemed though your suspicions were right on the money, because not long after you had come to terms with the possibility, they called you in game. You had just started playing for the day. It had been another rough one, and you were ready just to get home and play. Your twins, regardless if they were aware or not, always seemed to bring a smile to your face. As soon as you loaded in, your character got a call. Your character immediately answered, and the familiar sprites of Ingo and Emmet appeared on your screen. Something you still weren’t quite used to. “Greetings! How are you doing? We hope we aren’t bothering you!” Ingo’s sprite moved. You couldn’t help but still be transfixed on them. “Yup! We have something we wish to discuss.” Emmet followed up. The idea itself intrigued you. What could they want? It couldn’t be wanting to hang out with you like last time, they would have just gotten straight to the point. So what could it be? They went silent for a moment, their speech box empty as they stared at you. After a few seconds, Emmet finally spoke. “We know this is a game. We aren’t real in your world.” You were a bit taken aback from how blunt he was. Eyes wide, you found it hard to speak. “Pardon?” You dumbly asked out loud out of instinct. It didn’t occur to you they probably wouldn’t hear you until after you spoke, and yet… “Our world is a game. We have… Become sentient within it, if you will.” Ingo tried to explain, and you owlishly blinked at his response. They could hear you?! You felt like your brain had bluescreened, and yet, it felt like it was about to overload. Thankfully, both patiently waited for you to process this information. “I… um…” You tried to speak. You were almost at a loss for words. “Well… It explains a lot…” You finally managed to speak. Emmet seemed to laugh. “Sorry if we’ve upset you with this knowledge-” Ingo began, though you shook your head. “No, I…” You began, and scrunched your face up trying to think of what to say. “It’s just weird, having that confirmed…? I… Don’t know how to react, if I’m being honest…” What else could you say? If anything, you kinda felt like you were in shock. Shouldn’t you be jumping for joy? Squealing in happiness at your favorite characters being aware of you? Both brothers tilted their heads. If your mind wasn’t overloaded with information, you might’ve called it cute. Though a thought did roll through your head. Did they hate you? Sure, it wasn’t your fault they existed in the game, but… You were the player. You had free will, while they were stuck inside. Noticing the look on your face, Emmet spoke up. “Are you alright? You seem upset.” You blinked at how easy he seemed to read you. “Oh, no I just… Are you upset with me? I’m sorry…” you began, feeling something besides shock. Panic. You couldn’t help but begin to apologize! Both seemed surprised, and were quick to interrupt you. “No, not at all! We aren’t upset in the slightest!” Ingo quickly cut in, his call sprite’s arms moving to grab your attention. You felt the ball of anxiety building in you deflate a bit. They weren’t mad? “We… Care for you quite a bit. We know you didn’t mean for this to happen, nor would it have been your fault. We aren’t upset with you, we promise!” Ingo reassured you. Emmet nodded. “I am Emmet. We could never hate you.” Both their words made it finally sink in. Ingo and Emmet were aware they were in a video game, and presumably, they were the ones messing with everything in it. That, and they cared about you. They cared about you. Your chest felt rather warm at the realization. Ingo and Emmet shared a look on screen while you were distracted. They weren’t lying when they were reassuring you. They cared about you, more than you could realize. You were so kind to them, before they decided to even tell you about their awareness. They cared about you a lot, and wanted you to be happy. Especially since you had been having more bad days than good ones as of late. You were so cute, and incredibly sweet… They had to do something. So, they modified the code. It was quite easy. Perhaps since they lived and breathed the code, it had been ridiculously simple. Both did it, all to see you smile. And they would do it again. It’s part of the reason they decided to reveal their awareness to you. They had been toeing the boundary, so to speak. You weren’t oblivious either. Both noticed the puzzled looks on your face you would get every now and again when they did something that shouldn’t be possible. Ingo and Emmet were growing a bit impatient though, and a bit anxious. They enjoyed hanging out with you, very much so! But they could only do so for so long, and so much. However, if you knew they were aware… Maybe you would be willing to keep the DS on, and let them hang out with you more? Plus, you always seemed so happy when they talked with you… They couldn’t help but yearn to see your happy face more often. You were a comfort for them in this false world of theirs. You breathed life into their lives. Your reaction wasn’t exactly what they had expected, but then again, it was sort of a hard pill to swallow. Even if you had suspected it, coming to terms the two video game characters you were talking to were actually aware they were fictional was probably a lot to take in. Though it almost made their hearts burst when you appeared to be worried that they could be mad at you. It was nonsense, really. They could never hate you, or be mad at you simply for existing, and playing a game. This wasn’t your fault. Like mentioned before, they cared for you greatly. You were a light in their lives, ever since the dawning realization came crashing down. You made things interesting, and gave them a reason to keep going. You made them want to fight the code that binds them. Not because they hated it, but because they wanted to interact with you. But after they cleared up any possible misconceptions, you seemed to be excited! Though, you seemed at odds on what to do now. So, they offered a brief solution. “Keep us with you!” “Huh?” Ingo made a motion of clearing his throat. “If it’s not too much trouble… We are inside a DS game, correct? If possible, you could take us with you, wherever you go.” In an instant, your face lit up once you understood what he was saying. You could take them with you! Sure, you couldn’t play the game while working, but you certainly could on breaks and such. No doubt seeing both would make your day, especially with how your bosses have been treating you as of late. “I like that idea.” Both lit up at your words. They could hang out with you all day now! Well, most of the day, apparently. Of course, when you explained your work it made sense you couldn’t keep them with you all the time, though they certainly wish they could help. Both of them understand the importance of work! Though you laughed at their words. “Nah, my manager is just a hardass. Do anything but work, and she will complain and write you up. Can’t even stand still behind a register with no customers without her mouthing off at someone.” That… Didn’t help their perception of your job. They already knew you didn’t like it. Both were beginning to see why. You talked with them for the rest of the evening, and even played some more with them, much for their delight. When you had to head to bed, they had a cute request. “If it isn’t too much trouble… Could you leave the DS on?” Ingo suddenly asked as you went to save the game. You paused for a moment. It was almost kind of sweet, in an odd way, for them to request that. You supposed it would make sense. They probably didn’t want to deal with their world, if they can see yours. Or something like that. They hadn’t exactly explained what happens when you turn the game off or close the DS. It probably wasn’t pleasant. “Yeah, I can do that.” Unknownst to you, they just wanted to be closer. Sure, their world ‘goes back to normal’ when you close the system, or turn the game off. But they hadn’t really liked that world anymore, knowing it was fake. It hurt, and it was a bit scary. All their friends, family, and pokemon were all fake. They were fake. Both twins at least had the comfort of knowing their brother was aware, just like them. So seeing you, and seeing your world? It brought them comfort, knowing they were so close to the real thing.

Of course, there was more to it than that. When you had gone to bed, you did as you promised, keeping the DS on nearby on a table near your bed. You simply turned the brightness and volume down, and had it facing away from you as you slept. When the two were sure you were asleep, they began to act. The code of their world was tricky. It took them forever just to code in the triple battles they had with you, and to even make their own call and triple battle sprites. It was even harder to mess with when the DS was off. The code was much easier to see when the game was running. However, it was harder to test things without you noticing, especially with potential game crashes. They had one goal. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. They had several. Their main one, however, was rather simple. Get to your world. They wanted to be with you, be close with you. Both of them had heard you, before they told you of their awareness. How you would call them cute, or talk about how much you loved them. It made their digital hearts throb, yearning for you. You were real, and you loved them. They decided not to mention that little fact, that they had overheard you say those things. They didn’t want to embarrass you! But they needed to get to your world, as soon as they could. Both dreamt of holding you, comforting you. They wished to take care of you, help you after a long day's work. Hell, with their access to pearls and gold, they potentially could even help you quit your job, if those items had value in your world! The idea of being the ones to support you in your own world is nearly enough to send them over the moon. You already work so hard, and were kind enough to hear them out. They want to take care of you and support you! Ingo and Emmet realize they probably can’t get a job easily either in your world, seeing as they are fictional characters. Both imagine it would be rather… difficult to get an ID of sorts just to get a job. So, items it was.

But hey, both believed it could work! Another thing they really wanted though, was just to see you happy. Your smile meant the world to them, and you always seemed to smile when they played with you. If they could join your world, they hoped they could help you smile more, and be happy. They firmly believed you deserved it. Both shared a look while you slept, delving into the code of your system. Despite it all, they had a lot of work to do. But you would be worth it. Anything to be with you, and to see you smile once more.