#spoonfeeding

[1-800-pog-champ]

sweet flavor!!

jinbe x gn!reader

tags: gn!reader, fluff, mutual pining, spoon feeding or somethinf

"Jinbe, come quick before Chopper eats everything!" you exclaim, dragging the large fishman behind you into the dining room. Sanji had made alot of different parfaits for no particular occasion. You excitedly grab 5 different ones and return to Jinbe who was still standing by the door. "Parfaits!"

The two of you sat down together but you noticed Jinbe hadn't taken any for himself. "How come you didn't take any? We're you hoping I'd share mine? huh?" you added the last part jokingly. Jinbe chuckled heartily. "Nothing of the sort, I just don't particularly like them."

You looked at him a little puzzled, he didn't seem to have any problems with other sweet foods. "Why so?" you asked curiously.

"Well... they're kind of hard to eat."

"So it's not because of the taste?"

Jinbe shook his head in response. "I don't actually remember what they taste like, I haven't eaten one in ages since I've been avoiding them."

"That does make sense I suppose. But it is a shame." you look away a little dejected. But then you had an idea. What if you just fed him!

"I don't think it's that bad." Jinbe responded with a soft smile. He was so optimistic even though he didn't enjoy parfaits!

"If you think so... which one do you think I should start with though? Which parfait looks the tastiest?" Jinbe looks at the different parfaits for a moment before pointing at one. "This one, I'd say." He smiled softly. His gentle smile was enough to make the entire arctic hemisphere melt!

You take a spoonful of the parfait Jinbe pointed at. It was very tasty and overall rather smooth. You take another spoonful and offer it to Jinbe.

He looked a little taken aback. "You said they're hard to eat, so let me help you?" you gave him a great big smile.

Reluctantly, he agreed and leaned toward the spoon, a gentle purple blush creeping up on his cheeks. He was so cute when flustered. You proceeded to feed him the spoonful, then waited for his reaction.

"It's quite good" he spoke. You smile at him "do you want some more?" you offer him another spoonful. Still flustered, Jinbe proceeds to eat it. This process continues until the two of you emptied the glass! Only 4 more to go!

"You've got some cream on your face." you instinctively reach for his face to wipe it off, only after which you realized how weird that might've been. "Oh, sorry!"

"It's alright!" he gives you his toothy smile "You have some on yours aswell." he leaned forward and with his large hand swiftly wiped it off. You could feel your cheeks getting hot. He was so considerate, making you feel less awkward! But with his looks? You couldn't help but blush at his gentle touch. You enjoyed the rest of your parfaits together, feeding each other alternately.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Hi, could you write something about a Villain taking care of a Hero with pneumonia?

Hi Anon! Sure I can! Thanks for your patience while I got around to this, and for requesting it! Here you go!

“Come on, you need to take your medicine,” Villain coaxed.

Hero’s breaths came in short little gasps, a sheen of sweat coated their forehead, and their eyes were glassy and unfocused.

“You probably can’t even tell I’m here,” Villain sighed.

Without warning, Villain sat Hero up against the pillows, eliciting a heart-breaking whine from the incapacitated crime-fighter. Villain poured some medicine onto a spoon and pushed it past Hero’s lips.

“Mmmf?” Hero mumbled with a grimace.

“Swallow for me,” Villain said, “you can do it.”

Hero held the medicine in their mouth for a few moments, then eventually acquiesced and swallowed the bitter liquid. Villain let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m gonna take your temperature now,” Villain said, “hopefully the fever’s gone down some.”

Villain pulled out a thermometer and gently shoved it in Hero’s mouth. After a few moments, a loud beeping broke the silence. Villain pulled the thermometer out and their face fell as they read the number.

“Not much better,” they muttered, “I might need to take you to a hospital.”

Just the one word was enough to bring Hero back to some semblance of lucidity.

“N-no!” they said weakly, “no hospital!”

“Hero, I know you have a thing about hospitals,” Villain reasoned, “but this is serious. If your fever gets much higher, you’re not coming back from this.”

“You s-said you’d take care of me,” Hero pleaded, “please, Villain, no hospital.”

Villain looked at Hero’s pitiful expression. They groaned loudly.

“Alright,” Villain conceded, “but I swear, if your temperature goes up by so much as a decimal of a degree, I’m taking you to the hospital. No arguments. Deal?”

Hero sniffled and nodded. They suddenly lurched forward as they let out a string of wet coughs. Villain rubbed their back soothingly. Hero fell back against the pillows, blinking slowly as though their eyelids were made of lead. Villain adjusted Hero’s covers and left the room so they could rest.

…

Villain entered Hero’s room with a tray in hand. On the tray was a bowl of soup and a tall glass of water with a straw. The sound of whimpering made Villain practically run to Hero’s bedside. They set the tray down and caught sight of Hero tossing and turning in their sleep.

“N-no,” they mumbled.

Their fever-addled mind had conjured up some sort of nightmare, Villain guessed. Villain shook Hero a few times to wake them.

“Stop it!” Hero cried in their sleep.

“Hero, it’s me,” Villain said, “you’re alright. It’s just a dream.”

Hero’s eyes flew open, and they screamed, bolting upright in bed. Their wide eyes darted around the room until they fell on Villain. They hugged Villain as tight as their weakened state would allow.

“Shhh, you’re alright, you’re alright,” Villain soothed, carding a hand through Hero’s sweat-dampened hair.

“I-I- it was so real,” Hero muttered.

“I know,” Villain said softly, “it’s over now, okay? It’s all over.”

Villain adjusted the pillows and sat Hero up against them. They set the tray of food in Hero’s lap.

“I need you to eat,” Villain said, “you need fluids.”

Hero nodded. They tried to lift the spoon, but their hand was shaking, and their grip was so weak that it fell back down on the tray with a clatter.

“It’s okay,” Villain said quickly, seeing the tears form in Hero’s eyes, “let me.”

Villain quietly fed Hero small spoonfuls of the soup. Once or twice Hero reached for the water, so Villain held it steady for them to drink. Once the bowl was empty, Villain set the tray back on the nightstand.

“Thank you, Villain,” Hero said quietly.

The corner of Villain’s mouth curled up into a small smile.

“Of course, Hero,” they said.

It would be another week before Hero fully recovered, and Villain was there every step of the way.

ko-fi

tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm

[scrimblobimblowhump]

i’m so weak for weak, fragile whumpees being taken care of in an infant-like manner. like fuck yeah, carry them against your chest if they’re too weak to walk, hold them skin-to-skin (for comfort or rewarming from hypothermia - or both!), bathe them, spoon-feed them broth or gruel if they cannot digest any solids or need gentle rewarming from the inside, swaddle them in blankets and cradle them in your arms, gently rocking them back and forth so they can fall into deep sleep, contact-sleep with them to help them feel safe…

in a way, being rescued and starting your life anew - having so many things to relearn how to do or heal from - is like being newborn

[whump-tr0pes]

Soup for the Sick

@badthingshappenbingo

Red X for posted, white X for requested! Send in your requests! If you don’t see a prompt here that you already requested, please send it again!

Lux in Tenebris masterlist here

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 of a (no longer little) arc of Dee having a fever

This comes about a month or so into the First Recovery arc.

Contents: sickfic, demon whumpee, delirium, nonsexual nudity, bathing, dehumanization, language whump, misunderstanding whump, begging, past torture, spoonfeeding

~

“And I thought I was a heavy sleeper,” Ilya said in a weak attempt at humor. It was better than letting the worry eat them alive in silence.

Dara helped brace the demon upright in the tub as Ilya gently towel dried his short-cropped hair. The demon was limp in her arms, and Ilya wasn’t sure if it was unconscious or just completely lost within his own mind. His eyes lazed under his half-closed lids and he was completely slumped over in the empty tub, the only movement of his body coming from his incessant shivering. Still, at least he was clean, and soon he would be dry.

Dara grimaced as Dee’s head lolled back onto her shoulder and a patch of the demon’s hair sizzled against her exposed cheek. She was clad from the neck down in long sleeves and pants and leather gloves, but they still had to be so careful. The smell of sulfur and burning hair filled the bathroom. The demon let out a plaintive whimper and curled away from Dara’s arms.

“Shh, Dee,” Ilya whispered, taking his hands in theirs. “It’s okay, you’re safe—”

“It’ll feel safe a lot sooner if we dry it off and—”

“Dara,” Ilya snapped, ignoring their better judgment. “They’re the ones who called him it, it’s probably not making him feeling any safer if you—”

“Apologies,” Dara said stiffly. The demon in her arms stirred, whimpered again. Ilya met her eyes and saw real penitence there. “Truly. It’s a habit I have cultivated over… well, let’s say millennia doesn’t cover it. I’m trying to remember.”

Ilya bit their lip and looked down at the towel crumpled in their hands. They swallowed hard and carefully dried the demon’s chest, his arms, his back. They made quick work of drying the rest of him, trying to keep their eyes averted as best they could.

Dee moaned softly as Dara gathered him into her arms. Gooseflesh rippled over his skin as he pulled away, eyes still half-open, brows pulled together in foggy confusion. Ilya understood why – Dara emitted no body heat. Instead, she absorbed heat from the air around her and exhaled cool breath. Being held by her, fevered and naked and still damp, must feel unbearably cold.

“M-misericordia, potestates,” Dee croaked.

Ilya looked to Dara. “What—” They fell silent when they saw a muscle standing out in her jaw.

“Ego sum amicus, Dee,” Dara whispered, her breath ruffling his damp hair. He shivered again and opened sightless eyes, whimpering softly. The sound echoed pitifully off the tiles.

“Shh,” Ilya murmured. Their stomach lurched as tears rolled down Dee’s cheeks.

“Let’s just get him into bed,” Dara said through her teeth. “No use letting him freeze. I think he’s beyond us explaining any of this to him. He’s tapped out.”

Ilya nodded, hand darting out to help as Dara effortlessly lifted Dee in her arms. As she passed them, Dee’s fingers trailed behind, as if he was reaching back towards them. When Ilya’s fingers brushed his, he flinched.

∴

With Dee bathed and with fresh sheets on the bed, the room didn’t smell so much like sickness. Dara laid Dee gently in the bed, being careful not to let his head loll and brush her neck. Ilya helped her prop him up on the pillows, although Ilya doubted he could eat anything.

Still. It had been days and days since he’d eaten a single thing, and that frightened them. Perhaps the soup Evangeline had made would help him feel better.

Once Dee was settled on the bed, Evangeline sat next to him with the bowl of soup she had brought from the kitchen and scooped a bit of it onto the spoon. Ilya’s mouth watered at the aroma – they’d barely eaten in days, either. Still, as Evangeline held the spoon to Dee’s lips, Ilya and Dara watching her on either side like anxious sentinels, something in Ilya’s chest ached.

The spoon gently touched Dee’s mouth. Dee flinched and shied away, blinking rapidly. He made a broken, confused sound in his throat, not even seeming to see the angel in front of him.

“N-non,” he rasped. “Obsecro, non. Flagello me, vet…” Silent tears streamed down his face. “…sed obsecro non aqua sancta.”

Evangeline slowly lowered the spoon as Dara blew out a hissing breath through her nose.

“Do you think those unholy fuckers ever let him have anything that wasn’t spiked with holy water?” Dara said through her teeth.

“It would appear not,” Evangeline said, her placid tone belying the fury beneath. The spoon trembled in her hand.

Ilya stepped forward. “Let me see if it would help if I…” They moved to take the bowl from Evangeline’s hands. “Let me see.”

Evangeline passed the bowl to Ilya and let them take her spot on the bed. “Sometimes I wonder how much our presence hurts rather than harms,” she muttered. Louder, she said, “Especially the way it – I mean he – is now, perhaps we’re just making things… worse for him?”

Ilya wet their lips as they gathered a spoonful of the thin broth. It smelled of spices and onions and beef, and their traitor stomach rumbled. Still, they gripped the spoon and brought it to Dee’s lips. “Dee,” they said softly. “It’s alright. It’s… it’s soup. Not holy water. I promise. Will you give it a try? Dee?”

The demon’s eyes fluttered, as if opening them was taking a gargantuan effort that he could barely manage. Encouraged, Ilya help the spoon against Dee’s lips, hoping he would notice the taste of the soup and forget to expect the burn of holy water.

Dee whimpered, but opened his mouth obediently. Ilya hated themself for what they must look like to the demon: another tormentor, pouring holy water into his mouth. Dee swallowed weakly and cried out in anticipation of the pain.

Ilya drew in a tight breath, then another. Fogged, slitted eyes moved under half-closed lids. Dee’s fingers tightened in the sheets as if he was bracing for the blow that surely must have been coming instead of the holy water.

“It’s okay, Dee,” Ilya whispered. They reached out with their free hand and gently stroked Dee’s fist. “No more pain. We’re just trying to get you feeling better.”

Slowly, slowly, fevered eyes settled on Ilya. Dee’s lips trembled as he made a small, broken noise in his throat. “Bene facis,” he breathed. “Enim misericordia.”

Ilya glanced at Dara and Evangeline for a translation.

“I think he gets that you aren’t here to hurt him,” Dara said, voice husky. She nodded at Evangeline. “Now… I think it might be for the best if we leave him alone. While he’s in this state of mind, at least. He seems to do better when we’re not here.”

Ilya nodded jerkily.

“Once he’s been fed, though,” Evangeline cut in, “Come get us. We’ll take over watching him so you can sleep.”

The exhaustion nearly claimed Ilya then. They nodded again and loaded the spoon with more broth. “Yeah,” they said distractedly. “Sounds good.” This time, when they held it to Dee’s lips, he took the bite almost eagerly.

Translation of the Latin lines here:

“Mercy, powers,” Dee croaked.

…

“I am a friend, Dee,” Dara whispered, her breath ruffling his damp hair. He shivered again and opened sightless eyes, whimpering softly. The sound echoed pitifully off the tiles.

…

“N-no,” he rasped. “Please, no. Whip me, or…” Silent tears streamed down his face. “…but please not the holy water.”

…

Slowly, slowly, fevered eyes settled on Ilya. Dee’s lips trembled as he made a small, broken noise in his throat. “Thank you,” he breathed. “For mercy.”

Continued here

@womping-grounds , @free-2bmee , @quirkykayleetam , @walkingchemicalfire , @inpainandsuffering , @redwingedwhump , @burtlederp , @castielamigos-whump-side-blog , @whatwhumpcomments , @whumpywhumper , @stxck-fxck ,  @whumps-the-word , @justwhumpitwhumpitgood,  @inky-whump ,  @orchidscript , @inkyinsanity , @this-mightaswell-happen , @newandfiguringitout , @whumpkitty , @pebbledriscoll , @im-just-here-for-the-whump , @endless-whump , @grizzlie70 , @oops-its-whump , @kixngiggles, @1phoenixfeather , @butwhatifyouwrite , @carnagecardinal , @laves-here, @mylifeisonthebookshelf , @wolfeyedwitch , @batfacedliar , @also-finder-of-rings , @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @extrabitterbrain

[msboutofcontext]

[scuderiamint]

max' brand accounts posting charles again ? more likely then you think

[ardentpoop]

freak.

[lucreziagiovane]

"You are too much like me. A man feels less… favour for his own image reflected." [Give him his sanction…His support…His powder, his army, his control. His love. He is made in your image.] "Do you think we don't know that? He is me. All the fire and the fury, the drive. The pitiless ambition. I look into his eyes, I see myself. Do you expect me to love that?" — Rodrigo Borgia, The Borgias (2011-2013) // "You aren’t my son, you’re myself. The love I have for you is awkward for both of us. But it is greater than any love known. Even if you can’t understand it.” — Agustín Gómez-Arcos, The Carnivorous Lamb (1975)

The relationship between Rodrigo and his children is complex, but his love for his eldest son, Cesare, is the most intense of all. Cesare is a representation of Rodrigo's own generational trauma and personal flaws. Rodrigo loves Cesare deeply, but at the same time, he feels frustrated with him because Cesare serves as a mirror reflecting Rodrigo's own self-worth issues and flaws. Cesare's presence reminds Rodrigo of his own shortcomings and self-loathing, which created a complex dynamic between them. His intense love for Cesare is intertwined with this frustration, stemming from the recognition of their shared imperfections. Despite these challenges, Rodrigo still holds Cesare in high regard and has chosen him as his successor because Cesare represents both the best and worst aspects of himself.

[watzuu-lmk]

Self-indulgent shadowpeach doodles cuz im starving and my brain is vacant of anything but them

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Can't believe Old Moon, within a week that he got back,

Confirmed that he's nonbinary.

Confirmed more or less he is romance or sex neutral. (He's the one who suggested the kiss. He didn't back away from Monty. Monty chickened out. The two idiots forgot Monty is dating Earth. But Moon just met her, so I don't know Monty's excuse. Probably why he backed off to be fair. But OMoon wouldn't mind a kiss, if a partner wanted one. He just thinks it's a bit odd, but would do it anyway. He's so sex-neutral he 100 percent doesn't care.)

Hinted at the Monty and Puppet podcast that he might be into Poly. But not direct confirmation. Just that he got really defensive of Poly when he was judged by Puppet for liking a Harem anime.

So still an Aroace King.

Really happy pride.

[steven-has-exploded]

yes fyodor is definitely just using nikolai for his own goals and toying with his emotions and doesnt care for him that much BUT. imagine how fucking funny itd be if their relationship was genuine

you have this superterrorist guy of unknown age unknown origin unknown everything with an iq of like 300 whose trying to casually destroy an entire city with a kill count likely in the thousands by now, and his only weakness is this horrible little clown he found who also wants to kill him. and hes just fine with it. theyre two cartoonishly murderous and insidious megaultracriminals public enemies #1, and the second theyre not out killing people they act like a middle school couple who dont know how to just not do pda. IMAGINE

[loreensdarling]

hello people let's take a moment to thank our lord and savior @kalevalakryze 🙏🙏

for the content they provide us with, the content they spoonfeed us, the content they put so much work into so we can gobble it up like we're starving (factually we are starving for content, we're not seeing them for like two whole years...) 🙏🙏

[bugflies00]

i would like to sadly inform you all that luke @blissfali and i have decided to take our distances from each other and have broken up. please be patient in these trying times

[lastlymatt]

Can we please remember the time that John basically played at being Yassen's sugar daddy on Scorpia's dime? Because I do.

[triedpklove]

[silusvesuius]

fictional female characters and characters with insanely obvious cluster B personality disorders will never know peace as long as te/s fans keep making posts about them i mean it