#the symptoms were not nice but i could handle it

[crescent-blades]

ᯓᡣ𐭩Kokushibo Romance Headcanons:

| Type: Fluff 💕 | Warnings: None | WC: 0.7k |

𖤐ˎˊ˗Masterlist

⌗ Okay, so this man is canonically implied to have been emotionally neglected since childhood which is why he gets obsessed with Yoriichi in the first place.

⌗ So if you ever manage to genuinely win Kokushibo's heart, he is genuinely going to cherish you so much.

⌗ Even though he might come off as stoic and tough on the outside, Kokushibo will express his love through his actions.

⌗ Like when you're both out in the cold, Kokushibo would wrap his arm around you, making sure you're warm, even though his expression would just remain as stoic as usual.

⌗ You can expect him to shower you with gifts—think elegant clothes, nice hairpins, and all sorts of sweets to spoil you with in private.

⌗ And contrary to what some fans think, I actually believe Kokushibo would be a lot more lenient towards you as well, rather than being a strict husband/s.o.

⌗He would also be quite protective of you, though. He has lived through 400+ years (and even as a human alone), so he has definitely witnessed many horrific and unsettling events affecting women considering how they were treated back then and even just humanity at large.

⌗ Especially in his role as a samurai.

⌗ Kokushibo would always position you next to Kyokokukamusari (his sword) when the two of you go outside on a walk side by side, ensuring that he is always on the outer side to protect you from the road.

⌗ In a crowded area, he would keep you close to him, making sure people don't bump into you. He prioritises your comfort in every situation, and if you ever feel uneasy, he promptly removes you from that setting.  

⌗ This does have exceptions, though. Especially in the case of a meeting with Muzan. Kokushibo would attempt to reassure you with his words, maintaining his usual formal tone, yet you can tell that he possesses deep affection for you.

⌗ If you're a human s/o, then admittedly, it would be quite difficult to spend time with him since he's only able to come out at night. 

⌗ And given Kokushibo's strong sense of duty and his personal expectations of honor, he would perceive it as his responsibility to protect and look after you. So he would encourage you to become a demon yourself, also ensuring that you stay by his side for the rest of his life.

⌗ If the s/o is a demon, however, he would not be overly concerned about your initial weakness (again, contrary to popupar belief). Although he would engage in training and sparring sessions with you to help you develop your strength, he might even bring some humans so you could devour them. Maybe even a few hashiras. 

⌗Trust me, if you succeed in winning Kokushibo's affection, it is likely that even Muzan would hesitate to kill you at Kokushibo's request. However, you would still be required to adhere to Muzan's commands, and Kokushibo would likely encourage you to comply with them as well. 

⌗ Just like Yoriichi, Kokushibo too has access to the transparent world. So if you ever manage to get sick, if you ever get your period, etc. he'd already know beforehand. Even before you yourself could even feel the symptoms.

⌗ If you ever were to become ill, he would ensure that you received the proper care you needed, as he considers it his duty. He would get you the best doctor in the land and try his best to accompany you during your hard times. 

⌗ In case you get attacked by anyone, let's say a demon—Kokushibo would have already taken the initiative to train you beforehand in handling adversaries. Therefore, he would not rush to your aid immediately; instead, he would carefully observe your ability to defend yourself. In case you are weaker or unable to manage the attacker for any reason, only then will he intervene. 

⌗And if you ever happen to hurt yourself, don’t even think about hiding it. He’s already aware and will probably ask how you ended up in that mess. 

⌗ Considering he's a samurai from the Sengoku era, he would definitely write some well-written love letters and even love poems for you from time to time. especially during times of separation.

⌗ When it comes to physical affection, Kokushibo lacks significant experience. Therefore, if you were to express such affection towards him (like cuddling, hugging, etc) he would be quite flustered on the inside, even though he'd still maintain his stoic demeanor.    

⌗He would definitely be uncomfortable amd against PDA (public display of affection), though. For him, expressions of love are reserved for private moments. 

⌗ But remember, just like he acts out his love as a duty towards you, he would also expect similar gestures in return from your side—such as preparing a bath for him and whatnot.

[adore-gregor]

How being sick messes with your mental health is sometimes worse than the illness itself honestly 😕

[b-blushes]

thursday quest - no physical therapy today - make and eat lunch sooooo early but i can do it!!!!! - get ready for wedding - attend wedding! yay! (: - decompress well when i get home <3

[dilatorywriting]

59 Leona, it'd take a lot for him to admit but he would say it eventually. (Also I know you'd recognize me but I'm shy, so anon it is)

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 59: "People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You are nice, and you are stupid. And those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Sometimes you’re nice because you’re stupid, and sometimes you do stupid things because you’re too nice for your own stupid, stupid good. And it drives Leona half insane.

Which it shouldn’t, because nice, stupid people like you are just as annoying as his brother. Goody-two-shoes with buttoned vests and sparkly, star-shaped stickers on their term papers.

“Did you remember your homework?”

Leona flicked his tail in your face and you scrunched your nose over your notebook.

“Well?”

“Of course I remembered,” he scoffed, lazing back against the roots of one of his favorite trees. This spot used to be so much quieter, so much more peaceful, before you decided to trail after him like a duck quacking for its mother.

“Did you do the homework?” you clarified, and Leona rolled his eyes.

You sighed and starting ruffling around in your bookbag. “I brought a spare copy of the worksheet. You’re going to drive Ruggie insane, y’know. If he winds up stuck with you for another year because you failed for not turning in assignments.”

“Yeah. Sure. Another three-hundred-and-sixty-five days to rifle through my wallet. Worst news of his life.”

You huffed good naturedly and handed him the sheet of crisp, white copy paper and a pen. “Get to work, Kingscholar.”

“Oh?” he drawled, closing his eyes and settling back, loose limbed and all long, lean leisure, against the tree trunk. Clearly ready for an afternoon snooze. “Make me.”

You sighed again and reached over to flick your own well-used pen against his ear. It twitched under your fingers—soft, and tufted. The finest of the pale, tan fur brushing up against your fingertips. “Fine. Be that way. See if I bring you lunch tomorrow.”

“You will,” he scoffed.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sounding resigned and foolishly fond. “I probably will.”

See? Stupid. So easy to manipulate. So willing to let yourself be squashed under his clawed thumb. It was a wonder you’d managed to survive in this school at all. Nevertheless by clinging onto the coattails of someone like him. He’d never made anyone’s existence easier a day in his life, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, just because you were too soft-hearted and slow to see a looming predator for what it was.

“Just give me that stupid fucking paper,” he snapped, sitting upright and swatting away your poking pen with a sneer. You laughed into your palms like a secret—bright, and merry, and dumb as a fucking rock.

“Whatever you say, Leona.”

.

.

You’d handled his Overblot with a strange sort of aplomb that at first Leona had attributed to perhaps a lingering, hidden confidence that he’d just never bothered to unearth. You were just some herbivore, and even the littlest rabbits could bite back when you put them in a corner. But then he’d come to the decision that that easy conviction was just another symptom of your rampant stupidity.

“I know you guys don’t want to hurt me, or any of us. Not really,” you shrugged around a wad of cotton—the blood dripping from your nose slowly drying up to a tacky, sticky dribble. Leona gaped at you outright.

That was your grand explanation. For why you’d been so eager to charge forward when he’d collapsed in a pool of inky nightmares and self-loathing. And the very same reason apparently thatyou’d felt so comfortable rushing forward to treat Azul Ashengrotto’s blubbering, hysterical, breakdown with the same urgency.

“That octo-prick would have ripped you in half,” he sneered, fingers twitching a nervous rhythm against his palms as he watched the nurse wrap another layer or bandages around your head.

You shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

You were going to give him an aneurism.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he snarled, ignoring the horrible, twisty thing curling like bile through his chest. “And I’m not going to bother paying for some self-sacrificing idiot’s funeral.”

Another shrug.

“That’s alright,” you hummed, a soft sort of crooked smile on your mouth. “Would’ve been a waste of money anyways.”

Leona didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Surely because your stupidity had reached such a fever pitch that it was no doubt contagious, and he needed to protect his far superior and more valuable brain. Not because the image of you smiling and nodding along to his declarations that he wouldn’t put the effort into mourning your death had soured something so deep in his gut that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scrape it out.

.

.

When he received a letter from home asking him to return for some shitty coronation nonsense for his equally shitty brother, Leona had debated just skipping it outright. Who was going to stop him? You?

Well. Yes, apparently.

“It sounds important,” you hummed, peering over his shoulder at the neat, formal scrawl of the summons. “You should go.”

He snorted. “I don’t want to be there, they don’t want me to be there. What’s the point.”

You frowned, brow crinkling in the middle.

“Well, that’s not true,” you said, perplexed. “They wouldn’t write to you if that was the case.”

Leona snorted, eyes darting away to glare bitterly off into the corner. “Not like they have a choice.”

“Well then you don’t have a choice either,” you argued, firm. “I’ll go with you. See? It says you can have a plus one. You can camp out in your fancy, princey, bedroom. And I can siphon you snacks from the fancy, princey hors d'oeuvres tables. That way we both win. You get to be a reclusive asshole and rub the fact that that you still went in everyone’s faces, and I can get access to some tasty, royal food that I’ll probably never be able to afford again for the rest of my life.”

“Should’ve known you’d be like Ruggie—only using me for the free food,” he sighed, melodramatic and obviously put on.

“Well, also because I thought you could use the emotional support,” you added, a touch too soft and far too genuine. “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear that bit.”

“You’re right,” he scoffed, turning onto his side to hide the strange, miserable heat pricking at his skin. “Don’t ever say corny shit like that again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you grinned, flicking at his ear, and Leona added another mental tab to his never-ending list of reasons that you were really far too brainless to keep functioning at all.

.

.

You were nice, and you were stupid. And Seven, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“My brother hasn’t ever brought someone to one of these events before,” Falena had said, to your face. Idiot to idiot communication.  

“I didn’t give him much of an option,” you’d chirped, perfectly pleasant. “I don’t think he wants me anywhere near here, to be fair. Or around him in general. But I’m like a cockroach. Can’t get rid of me.”

And Falena had laughed. Because he was terrible. And said, “I’m sure he must care about you very much, little cockroach.”

And then because you were more terrible, you laughed back and said very assuredly, “Oh, not at all.”

Which was—was—

“Do you really think that?” he snapped, once the two of you were alone. And you blinked back at him with wide, owlish eyes.

“Think what?”

Think at all,he wanted to sneer, but just glared silently and bitterly into the middle distance—fighting the nonsensical, irritated swishing of his tail.

But you just kept staring at him. Like he was the moron here. Which was unacceptable.

“Look,” he frowned, sharp and miserable. “I get it. People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you. Whatever gods exist out there were playing a shitty fucking joke on you when they dropped you in my lap. But you’re stuck with me. So stop—” he bit out, fighting that awful, twisty thing in his gut that never seemed to fully go away. “Stop talking like I can’t stand you.”

“…oh,” you mumbled, whisper quiet—that wide, startled gaze flicking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoed, sharp, and you snorted a laugh that seemed to surprise even you.

“You’re stuck with me too then, y’know,” you said after a long moment. “Even when I make you grumpy.”

“You don’t make me grumpy. I am grumpy. You make me—” he cut off quick, eyes darting away petulantly and an absolutely unfair heat rising along his cheekbones.  

“Itchy,” you piped in, and he gaped at you in shock.

“What?”

“You know,” you shrugged, awkward, and reached up to wiggle your fingers. “Cockroach. Many legs. Squirming. Itchy.”

“Never say any of those words again.”

You laughed into your palm—inelegant and a touch too loud. Leona felt his lips quirk.

“Thank you,” you said after a moment, once your giggles were a bit more under control. And leaned forward quick as a whip to press a nervous peck against his cheek. “For being kind to me.”

Kind.

Leona reached up to press a hand against the too-warm skin with a terrible, unfamiliar sensation in his head not unlike the fuzzy, white drone of TV static. And a horrible thought managed to filter its way through the floating, buzzing sensation curling through the whole of him.

Oh, fuck. It is contagious.

.

.

[fox-bright]

My covid post from last year is going around again, as I sit here debating how and what to write about HPAI H5N1.

I'm tired.

Things to know:

HPAI H5N1, Highly Pathogenic Avian Influenza H5N1, is so far wildly lethal when humans get it. Somewhere between 53% and 56% of the humans who have been found to have it have died.

Those people mainly got it from interacting with sick birds. A couple have gotten it from interacting with sick mammals. The one of those that's most important to US news right now is a worker at a milk cow farm who got sick very recently. That worker's only symptom before getting on antiviral medication was pinkeye.

(Keep your cats indoors; cats are getting it from sick birds. Don't have bird feeders this year. Do NOT interact with wild birds that are acting strangely; do not poke at dead wild birds.)

Humans are not yet giving it to humans. There are one or two cases where they might have done, in the last few years; those cases guttered out quickly, to the great good luck of our species, and did not spread.

Human-to-human transmission is the big concern.

We are not in any immediate danger of H2H transmission. When we're in immediate danger, you'll know.

When the flip happens, we will go from not being in immediate danger to being in immediate danger, very rapidly. This could happen this month, or in five months, or in five years, and we don't know when.

By the time we are in immediate danger, it is too late to do the greater bulk of your preparation.

So it's time to prepare now. This time we have is a blessing. We should not squander it. What would you have done differently in September, 2019, if you knew what was coming? Do that.

With some differences; a) flu can pass by fomite--that is, a sick person touches a doorknob, you touch a doorknob, you rub your face, you get sick--so you actually do need cleaning chemicals for this one. b) This one gets in through the eyeballs pretty easily in its current shape, so eye protection should be prepped for adding to masking in public spaces. c) this one is gonna call for fever reducers and we know how hard they were to get when covid hit; stock up. And stock up on pet food if you can keep it from going bad, because pet food gets its protein from cow and bird meat; there will be shortages.

With a lot of similarities; the flu is airborne so don't stop masking, if we have a proper lockdown this time you're going to wish you had flour and rice and canned fruit so keep stock of all your staples. If you have a nice big freezer, now is the time to get beef and chicken before the prices shoot to the ceiling. I'm also stocking up on powdered milk and powdered eggs for baking with.

We have made a lot, a LOT of mistakes with how we've handled covid. But one thing we didn't do wrong was all of the community-building in the early days. Think about what worked then, and what didn't really work. Now is the time to make sure community bonds are strong. As always, as in ANY potential disaster, there are two most-important questions?

Who can protect and support you?

Who can you support and protect?

Plan accordingly.

[idyllicwillowtree]

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 2)

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital

Author’s note: Thank you so much for the positive comments on part 1! I was feeling insecure about this fic so that was very nice y'all are so sweet <3

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.” 

All the Hellfire members whipped their heads toward you, witnessing an angry rash spreading across your skin and your breathing becoming audible as you tried to suck in as much oxygen as possible.

Eddie’s heart clenched painfully as he looked down at you, remembering the severity of your allergy after Dustin explained it to him one time. Still, Eddie was taken aback by the speed at which your symptoms were progressing.

You reached a hand out to Eddie as the choked coughs took over. He ignored your hand in favor of catching your body before it hit the ground. With trembling limbs he carefully lowered you to the grimy tile of the cafeteria floor.

“Fuck,” Eddie cursed, “Dustin! What do we do?!”

Dustin had froze. Panic set in as he watched his older sister struggle more and more to take in a full breath. A small crowd began to gather and the excited chatter of the cafeteria simmered into hushed whispers and gasps. Everyone was watching, and not in the way Eddie was used to.

“Henderson!” Eddie snapped. 

At that, Dustin went to work. “Mike, go call 911! Lucus, see if the nurse has an epipen. GO!” The sheep dispersed. Dustin picked up your bag with trembling hands and began digging through your books and school supplies, searching for the epinephrine injector he swears you kept in there.

Eddie turned his attention back to you, trusting that Dustin had the rest handled. At the look of panic in your blotchy and swollen face he almost froze too. A chilling dread spread through his veins as you began clawing at your throat, doing everything you could to open your airways. 

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me princess. You’re gonna be alright, gonna be just fine, you hear me? D-Dustin will getchu your meds and you’ll be good to go,” Eddie rambled, trying to convince himself just as much. He gently cradled your warm face and stroked your hair to try and soothe you.

With every second passing you became closer and closer to death. Eddie looked up in desperation. His red-headed neighbor (Max, he thinks her name is) snatched the backpack out of a distraught Dustin’s hands and turned it upside down, emptying its contents. Robin was there too and put a comforting arm around your brother while Max took over the search for the injector. Eddie was vaguely aware of a teacher trying to pry him off of you but he’d risk getting expelled for shoving a teacher if it meant staying by your side. 

“Got it!” Max exclaimed, holding the orange and clear tube triumphantly. She slid to her knees on your otherside, not hesitating to jam the needle into your leg and holding it there.

Eddie flinched at the force it took to inject you. You took your first full breath, allowing him to take one as well. Your eyes were drooping slightly as the medicine was introduced into your system.

“Hey, there she is,” Eddie said gently.

Your tired eyes met his and he could’ve sworn the corners of your lips twitched upwards.

The paramedics arrived and Eddie hesitantly let you go so they could treat you. It was a blur of navy blue and red as they hooked you up to numerous tubes and slid an oxygen mask over your head. 

You became slightly more alert at the sight of strangers surrounding you as the stretcher clicked into place, raising you a couple feet off the ground. You moved your head tiredly trying to catch sight of anyone you knew. Anyone to comfort you.

“Dustin, go with her,” Eddie told the curly haired boy. He looked up at him with wet eyes that clenched at Eddie’s heart. “She needs you, go on.”

Eddie watched the determination emerge on the freshman’s face as he walked through the paramedics declaring that he was your brother, allowing him to be by your side. 

Swallowing thickly past the dryness in his mouth, Eddie watched you get rolled out on the stretcher. 

He turned numbly to see that Lucas and Mike had returned and started digging through your lunch, in an attempt to find out what it was that could’ve caused your reaction. As the two predictably began to bicker, Eddie grabbed the cup of applesauce and slowly brought the spoon out. To his horror, he scooped out a few small round nuts mixed with the smooth texture of the applesauce. 

His darkened eyes snapped up, immediately finding Jason. He at least had the decency to look scared, his skin white as a sheet. True terror shining through as he came to realize the severity of what he did. He shook his head slightly, pleading with Eddie. For what, he wasn’t sure. But he could give a shit.

The grip on the applesauce tightened, causing it to tremble, before he launched it in Jason's general direction. A fire of rage lit up Eddie's entire being, consuming any reason or restraint within him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You could’ve killed her!!” Eddie roared, the words ripping from his throat like a thunderclap.  Every fiber in his being screamed for justice, determined to ensure that no harm would ever come to you again. 

“I-I-I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to-” Jason blubbered.

“Not good enough!” Eddie snapped. He charged forward, driven by the need to avenge your pain. Just when he was closing the distance between them a thick arm wrapped around his upper body. “LET ME GO!”

Eddie struggled against the firm grip that held him back from doing to Jason what he should've done a long time ago. If Eddie was strong enough, he could've saved you, stopped all of this bullying in its tracks before Jason had ever even looked in your direction. His strength never came from muscles or brute force, but from his anger—the primal need to protect those he loved. He was so consumed by his rage that a red haze blurred his vision. Or were those his tears?

“Eddie, man, don’t do this,” Doug said, doing his best to calm his friend.

“Please,” Eddie pleaded, losing some of his fight. “Just let me go.” 

“Dude, if you get into a fight you won’t be able to see Y/N in the hospital,” the bassist whispered in Eddie’s ear. He looked over and saw Principle Coleman closing in on them, there wasn’t much time left. “We can handle it, just go while you can.”

A wave of overwhelming frustration washed over Eddie as the struggle against Doug’s hold diminished. Tears welled up in his eyes as his chest released his rage and tightened back up with helplessness and despair.

He didn’t let it consume him though, taking off in the opposite direction of the principle, his sheep following close behind.

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

When the van ripped into the hospital parking lot, Eddie finally took notice of how many stowaways he had. Lucas, Mike, Max, Robin, and even Nancy all burst through the double doors at the back of his skunky smelling van and made their way to the emergency room entrance.

Eddie was the first one through the doors, eyes scanning the waiting area for his curly haired friend. What he wasn’t expecting to see was the one and only King Steve sitting with the boy. 

Steve noticed them first, taking the lead on letting them know what’s going on. He explained that you’d be fine but the doctors are running some tests and getting you hooked up to the necessary machines. It’ll be a little longer before Eddie gets to see you with his own eyes.

Eddie turned on his heel and walked through the doors he just came through as Steve explained that your mom was called but was on a trip with her girlfriends and won’t be able to make it back until tomorrow.

The disinfected smell of the hospital only offered to heighten Eddie’s desire for a cigarette. He finds solace in the only coping mechanism he has under his belt, even if he knew it was bad for him in the long run. The stress of the day weighed heavily on him as he leaned on the brick wall of the hospital outside. The familiar routine of lighting up offered a good distraction, the only way to momentarily ease his anxiety.

That was until your brother found him. He silently stood next to him, not feeling the need to fill the silence with anything but the gentle breeze and the birds chirping in the distance. But it made Eddie feel uneasy.

“I’d offer you a smoke, but I don’t want to corrupt you more than I already have,” Eddie said with a sad laugh.

Ignoring Eddie’s comment, Dustin asked, “you remember that one time when Hellfire came over to my house for a session? When the theater kids needed the drama room at school?”

Eddie nodded his head slowly, releasing the smoke from his lungs as he did so.

“I was still in middle school so I had only heard about you from Y/N. She had this weird way of speaking about you. It was in a way I had never heard her speak about anyone before.”

Eddie’s heart punched against his ribs painfully, his insecurities taking over.

“She was nice enough to let me watch your campaign so I could get ideas for the campaign I was doing with Mike and Lucas, and our other friend Will. I think she regretted it because of the Reese's Pieces incident.”

Eddie couldn’t help but start chuckling embarrassingly at the memory. “God, that was so stupid,” he smacked his forehead in an attempt to stop his mind from reliving one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. 

-

The Hellfire members flooded into your home, bringing chips, candy, and drinks to share. Your first time hosting the club was going great, until Dustin noticed the bag of Reese’s Pieces in Eddie’s hand.

“My sister is too nice to say anything but-” Dustin started.

“Stop, Dustin-”

“-we can’t have those in the house.”

Eddie’s eyebrows pinched beneath his bangs, “what? Why not?”

“She’s allergic to peanuts.”

Before you could roll your eyes at your little brother and reassure him it was fine, Eddie turned and chucked the bag out your kitchen’s open window leaving you standing there in shock and Eddie horrified by his own impulse.

-

“I think that’s when she fell in love with you.”

Eddie’s head whipped over to Dustin. The kid had the audacity to look smug after completely shattering his world view. His mind spun with the revelation.

Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clear–he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.

part 3

tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies

[coralinnii]

Is it alright if I request Ruggie, Deuce, Trey and Cater helping fem!reader with her period?

‧₊˚✧ To share our joys and abdominal pain ‧₊˚✧

↳ Helping fem!reader going through periods

feat: Ruggie ❋ Deuce ❋ Trey ❋ Cater  genre: fluff, humor note: no pronouns were used for reader (I just ended up not using any), symptoms of periods vary in stories to match the reality of different experiences in real life,

Fun fact, some of the scenarios in this post were inspired by real life experiences between me and my male friends. I missed those idiots, but now they’re somewhat smarter now. Me and my friends called it “the shining” cuz of the famous elevator scene xD

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Not gonna lie, he might be a little afraid of you whenever the time of the month comes around. 

Coming from a nation where women are revered as strong and aggressive as well as coming from a woman-dominated culture, Ruggie had learned an important lesson in not pissing anyone off when their body is going through what could be described as hell, blood included. 

Whether your symptoms are more tolerable or excruciating, it was still a surprise to suddenly see your nervous boyfriend carrying a gift basket with essentials like a peace offering of sorts. Appreciative, but a surprise nonetheless. 

It was also a surprise to see that Ruggie had built a little fort for you filled with fluffy blankets and pillows. Ruggie can’t imagine how painful cramps can get but if you need to curl yourself, he rather you have somewhere comfy and warm to do so. 

No one tell him he just essentially built a nest for his partner. He already knows.

Once you enter his nest fort, you’ll never leave. Not because you can’t but rather you never needed to. Anything you needed or had a craving for, the observant hyena caught on and was quick to make your wishes come true. 

Under his fears, he watches over you in worried awe as you brave through your pain the best you can. He always had respect for anyone who has to go through the day in so much pain but when you smiled at him so sweetly as you thanked him for bringing you some painkillers, his heart bleeds.

Whether he has to run 10 miles to get you something with his money or just to rub small circles on your stomach to ease the cramps, he’s willing to do any work to make you a little better.

"You hungry? I can whip up something good in the kitchen if you're hankerin' for something sweet. Leona'll understand me goin' missing for a while. Afterall, I gotta stay when my babe needs me. Shyeheehee~"

He was panicking so much, it’s almost comical. 

This lovable dummy won’t know what’s going on with you and simply you were sick or unhappy with him given how easily irritated and queasy you were throughout the first day. It was until you flat out told him that he finally put two and two together. 

“oh…Oh…OH SHI-!”

He wants to help so much but the former delinquent has no clue on anything regarding the female anatomy. He tried looking up some helpful advice but unfortunately he only got more confused because it’s the fricking internet. 

“Deuce, what are you doing?” 

“Protecting you. I read that bears and sharks can smell you and they’ll attack you!”

Thankfully, a call with his mom sent him in a better direction. The embarrassing flush of red of his cheeks was a cute contrast to his blue hair and eyes.

With guidance and some trial-and-error, Deuce was trying his darndest in helping you throughout these hellish days. Even if you’re the type to rather handle things yourself, it was nice to have someone by your side even if you get more irritable than usual. 

Like when a particularly bad wave of cramps suddenly hit you in the middle of the day.

The excruciating twisting and stabbing feeling in your abdomen brought you close to tears as you gritted your teeth to bear the pain. With swirling feelings of nausea and anger clouding your senses, your fight-or-flight senses kicked in as you growled out for people not to touch you in such a sensitive state. 

Almost everyone cowered at your seething words, except for Deuce. Instead, he wordlessly scooped you up in his arms and quickly made his way to the infirmary, only opening his mouth to apologize as you punched and yelled at him while in pain. 

It wasn’t until he finally laid you down onto the comforting bed of the infirmary that you apologized for your harsh behaviour, but the blue-haired freshman only grinned at you, fist to his chest like a show of confidence. 

“I may be an idiot, but I’m pretty strong and can take a punch. I’m gonna be right here if you ever need anything.”

One of the more level-headed students on campus, he wasn’t too panicked when you told him when your monthly visitor came around. 

Being someone with a younger sister, Trey at least has some basic understanding of what could happen during this time.

Since it shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own, he kept your predicament discrete for your privacy. If anyone in Heartslabyul did take notice and made any demeaning comments about it, they had a sudden flux of kitchen clean up duty because “since they happen to be so free to talk about someone else’s pain, they can do some good around the dorm.” 

He would take over your Grim duties during the first few hellish days, keeping your rambunctious dormmate distracted when he noticed that you’re not quite in the best mind or body to watch over him.

If you don’t specifically tell him though, he may go a little overboard with taking care of you. Trey is the type to be over prepared with everything and anything that involves you. Of course, he’ll bake you some of your favourite treats but he would also refill your hot bottle, remind you constantly to stay hydrated, and gently force you to lay down if you get migraines.  

Trey is a sweetheart through and through, ready to help with anything if it would turn your pain from a 100 to even a 99. Even if all you ask is for him to caress your head as you rest before he leaves, he’s sure he could probably talk his way out of his vice housewarden duties for the day, just to stay with you through it all.

“Are you awake? You should have something sweet to eat to ease the cramps. Ha ha, don’t be shy. What would you like me to make?"

None of this is new to him. He grew up with two older sisters for Seven’s sake, he understands and sees the sh*t the body goes through every month. He could watch you wreck an entire room or cry for hours on end and just go “hmm, valid.” 

He’ll still act like his typical fun and flirty self. Even when he had a feeling you were on your period, he doesn’t pry or hint his suspicion unless you told him yourself. He knew it wasn’t his place to comment on anything. 

If you do tell him, he will try his best to make you feel the best through this painful ride of hormones. He just doesn’t wanna make you feel like you’re getting unwanted attention during all of this.

The two of you would have sleepovers whenever you feel too tired or if your body feels too sore to move. If you’re prone to bad breakouts during periods and feeling unattractive, Cater would dispel your worries by making you feel so beautiful, leaving sweet kisses on your face as he’s pampering your aching body. 

Despite what people may think of his attention-seeking tendencies, Cater’s very intuitive and works to make you feel good throughout the monthly changes. Never is he the type to make you feel bad or burdensome for your unpredictable needs and aches. 

For you, the outgoing junior could spend the day away chatting about anything and everything just to distract you from the mood swings. If you feel too tired to talk, Cater would happily lend you his shoulder to rest on while the two of you bundle together under a warm blanket and watch cute animal videos on his phone.

“Don’t worry, your Cay-Cay is here for you, cutie~! Just relax and take care of your totes fab self, ‘kay?

[suw4]

Homesick

Terushima Yuji from Haikyuu!!

an/tw: that one training camp arc in s2 except johzenji was apart of it too;just for the plot. in need of angst, request some angst kskwkwjsdjj

requested on wattpad

Masterlist | Haikyuu!! Masterlist

"Oh my," Shirofuku, the reddish brown-haired Fukurodani manager, muttered. Clutching the big empty plate close to her chest. "Look at how he handles that knife," Suzumeda, the second manager added. The managers stood by the counter in the kitchen as they watched Johzenji's male manager sliced up the watermelon. He noticed the two and smiled softly at them, still handling the fruit. "Oh, are the plates ready? I'm finishing up soon. Give me a moment," he gently informed them, to which they nodded. Walking closer to where he stood, observing him.

The other Johzenji manager then walked into the kitchen. Wondering where her second year was. "Oh! [Name]-kun! There you are. I've been looking for you. Wow, where did these watermelons come from?" Misaki pondered. "The parents from Shinzen High gave us a few. They offered to cut them, but I volunteered instead. I didn’t want to trouble them," [Name] replied as he cut the last slice. After that, he asked the Fukurodani girls to plate them nicely. "Hey, [N/n]-kun. Don't you think you're helping us a lot already? You should take a break. We managers, need a break too, y'know?" his senior mumbled warily. Though, he only shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I'm actually trying to get away from the crowd a little,"

"Oh? Is it too much for you?" she tilted her head. The other managers listening in curiosity. "Not particularly. How do I put it?" he trailed off as he helped the girls to put the last piece onto the third plate. "Homesick? I don't know the exact term, but I can't really adjust here," he admitted embarrassingly, clearing his throat as the said symptom was acting up. Facing away from the others to wash his hands and the kitchen tools. "Is that foolish?" he continued. "Nope! It's a valid reason. There were a few players admitting to us about that before, it’s common," Suzumeda assured him, Shirofuku nodding as to agree with her. Chomping down a slice of watermelon. "If you're feeling unwell, you can always rely on us!" she beamed.

[Name] thanked the girls for the reassurance. They grinned and bid a short farewell before going out to the gymnasium to give out the fruits. Misaki then took the last plate and glanced over to the two who had walked out. She then heard the [h/c] haired sighed heavily. "[Name]-kun. Would you like me to call him over to check on you? I'm sure you'll feel better," she peeped closer to the male. Patting his back. "Nah. It's alright. I'll manage," he answered. The other exhaled. "Okay then. Don't overwork yourself!" she warned him before catching up with the other managers.

The three girls announced happily to the volleyball players about the fruits. Cheers erupted amongst the boys. Practice matches came to a stop, and everyone went outside to taste the heavenly juices of the watermelon. Freshly replenishing their thirst and hunger. Yuji then walked up to his manager, taking one slice for himself. "Hana-san. Where's [N/n]?" he asked, curious about the [h/c] head. "Oh. Hm... He's in the kitchen washing the bottles. You should go see him," she told him. This perked the wing spiker. "Why? Is he okay? Is he sick???" he blurted out, worried. Before Misaki could answer, he was already on the way to the kitchen. He wanted to see [Name] right away.

"[N/N]!!!!!!!!!!" Yuji yelled, rushing towards the kitchen area. Slamming the door open and jumping onto the male. Almost losing his balance. Luckily, he was able to react quickly. Dropping the bottles into the sink and caught him. "Yu?? Why are you here? Ow!" The volleyball player slapped a hand on [Name]'s forehead. "Do you feel good?!" he asked, close to yelling. "What?? Yeah, I am. Did Hana-senpai say something to you?" he felt the blond slipping from his grip, so he hopped to adjust the position. Supporting Yuji's weight under his butt. Letting the player sit comfortably on his arms. "Are you sick!?" The blond continued with his questions. [Name] stared at him for a few seconds and laughed. "Calm down, baby. I'm fine. I'm just a little nauseous. But overall, I'm doing okay," he grinned, kissing his boyfriend. Yuji huffed, getting off the [h/c] head while the said male carefully put him down. "What's wrong, huh? Did ya eat something funny?"

"No. I think I'm just homesick," [Name] shrugged. Yuji clicked his tongue and placed his hands onto his hips. "That's because you've been inside for too long!" he exclaimed. Sounding too confident with his statement. He then took his boyfriend's hand and pulled him out of the kitchen, and out of the building. "Wait, I have to do the--"

"Nope! You're coming with me!"

Yuji led his lover to the same hill that Karasuno did their running punishment. He was dragging the male forward. Bouncing about as he was excited being outside with the love of his life. He stopped at the top with [Name] following up behind. The volleyball player took a deep breath of the fresh air. Feeling refresh as ever. "You smell that, babe? Smells like paradise!"

"Smells like an average afternoon to me,"

"Don't be such a killjoy, [N/n]!" the blond groaned, snapping his head towards him. Earning a chuckle from him. Yuji then sat down on the green land. Tugging the other down. [Name] followed suit and sat beside him. Then the cold breeze brushes along their skin. Yuji shivered lightly, causing his boyfriend to glance over. He watched him lean back with his hands in the grass to support his weight. His blond locs flowing gracefully along with the wind. The smile that was plastered on his face made him unconsciously smile. It was honestly goofy.

Sensing the eyes on him, Yuji turn to look at its owner. The smile had turned into a toothy one. Making the [h/c] head smile further. Suddenly, he didn't feel nauseous anymore. "You're so cute, Yu. And annoyingly hot," he complimented. Yuji hummed cheekily. "Of course I am! I am the Terushima Yuji. The one and only,"

"Yeah..." [Name] uttered quietly. His loving gaze still fixated on his boyfriend. The blond raised his brows as he observed the manager's expression. He smirked. "You're so in love with me that you can't help it don't you? You want to kiss me so bad," he teased, sticking out his pierced tongue. [Name] scoffed and smirked. Leaning closer and placing his lips onto the other. It was short and sweet. Nothing more. As he parted from the kiss, he saw the baffled look on Yuji's face--which soon turned into disappointment. "That's it?!" he gaped. [Name] let out a laugh. "What? you can tease me, but I can't tease you, sweetheart?"

"Aw, c'mon, [N/n]!" Yuji whined as he shook his boyfriend. The two began to banter about. Pushing each other and laughing around like they were the only ones in the whole wide world. Once the chaos had finally calm down, Misaki came walking by to inform Yuji that practice has started. The male groaned in annoyance. He wanted to spend more time with his lover. So instead of separating, he forced the boy to watch him play. In that way, he could play at his top performance; he says. Instantly, he stood up and pulled the taller up. Dragging him once more, straight into the gym. Misaki watched them and sighed while shaking her head. "He looks better now... I'm glad," she mumbled to herself. Mentally thanking Johzenji's team captain.

[neteyamsilly]

Being Neteyam's Only Daughter...

pairing ;; dad!neteyam x daughter!reader

genre ;; headcanons

notes / explanations ;; i wrote this instead of i will soften every edge, the brainrot was too strong. SORRY . entirely unedited so i could get it off my system. not what you guys were waiting for but i hope you enjoy!

♯ After a whole tumultuous lifetime of playing guardian to his siblings that he might as well be called their third parent, getting a whisker’s away from death at his teens solely because his little brother was looking for some action, Neteyam is enervated — he cannot imagine a life with children, and doesn’t even want to. He has already raised three.

♯ He may be good with children in general but that doesn't mean he could handle raising multiple of his own. The thought alone gives him intense anxiety.

♯ A mate would be nice. Would mean privacy, and his own world free from the burden of having to look after his siblings. His own family. One thing belonging to Neteyam and Neteyam only.

♯ He does get a mate, eventually. Right after Tuktirey can be responsible for her own. It's not something his father tells him to do, Neteyam just couldn't trust Lo'ak with their youngest sister even when the boy became a man. Lo'ak was still Lo'ak.

♯ And then comes the dreaded, silent expectation his mother stares right into his soul every time she sees him and his mate together: I want grandchildren.

♯ Neteyam doesn’t. He really doesn’t. Some peace and quiet would be nice for a while, he really likes the mellowness of the present, feels so light now. He has his own life, finally. Home away from the Sullys. He doesn't have to wake himself up before his siblings. The silence and comfort of love is new and strange, but it's nice and it's his. They can pry it away from his cold, dead hands.

♯ No children.

♯ Neteyam finally has his peace.

♯ No children, mother, seriously.

♯ ...Not now, at least.

♯ And if it ever happens. Only one. That would be enough for Neteyam and his mate. The horror of having a big family enters his dreams sometimes even now, he startles awake with the sensation of Lo’ak having ditched him, none of his siblings around, and the trouble that would follow.

♯ Yeah, no. Neteyam isn’t going to spend his life running after another batch of children. No way.

♯ Only one. One is enough.

♯ Eywa, he hopes the child would be like him if it ever happens. Neteyam takes pride in his precocious childhood free of immaturity. Not that he's dying to be a father, but if he ever becomes one, he hopes the child is calm and easy to communicate with.

♯ He knows his mate wants to be a parent one day, and knows he also will be ready eventually, but having to give up how wonderful life has become... Neteyam just wants to be selfish for once.

♯ (Somehow he can't get used to the solitude of peace, but won't admit he misses the rowdiness of his siblings and how bright each and every day was with them. Neteyam doesn't realize it's loneliness.)

♯ He doesn't expect to be as excited when it happens. Neteyam knows before his mate does and it's not the usual pregnancy symptoms, but the change of scent, in the past, he had detected his own mother was with child that way, from what he knew, this was unique to him and him only, but it was conclusive and Neteyam was right every time.

♯ His stomach doesn't sink like he thought it would, and his mate gets scared with the scream that follows his dissociation.

♯ It has to be a girl. He wants it to be a little baby girl. The desire to coddle and pamper his baby the way none of the Sully siblings were overwhelms him. If it was a son, he'd love him all the same, make him feel loved and appreciated like the Sully patriarch never really did with him, it's just, the thought of another Lo'ak on his hands just worries him.

♯ Neteyam really underestimated how ready to be a father he really was. It shouldn't really be surprising to him given his big brother status, he already knows how to be a parent - but didn't know he wanted to be one, deep down, that he looks forward to the chaos his child would bring back to his life.

♯ His mother and father are nothing less than elated. It's going to be their first grandchildren, and Neteyam sees Jake Sully shed a couple tears for the first time in his life. They have a father-son hunting trip together for the offering to Eywa in the name for the safe arrival of his child, and have countless conversations about fatherhood. If it was Lo'ak, he'd be willing to learn the new knowledge, but Neteyam already knows all he should, and his father is guiltily aware of this too, his delivery is awkward, and Neteyam does his best to alleviate the talk.

♯ They don't know the gender until the day you're born.

♯ And his wishes have come true: a girl. You're healthy and fairly plump from how Neteyam kept feeding his mate throughout the pregnancy.

♯ He can't believe he has a child, and that he has his whole life together with you now. How scary it is that you have become his whole world the moment he holds you, that he is the protector of this tiny, little life. How will he be as a father? What kind of person will you become?

♯ It comes as second nature to hold you when it's fairly new to his mate, he knows how to handle you, how to calm you down, how to baby talk that it creeps his siblings out to see him openly loving that way.

♯ His father had talked about the sky person concept of monarchy in the past. He says how you're Neteyam's pretty little princess one day, and it sticks. Neteyam thinks so too, but Paskalin is what he calls you - sweet berry.

♯ Because you are very sweet, the calmest, most endearing baby he's ever known. The most adorable. He doesn't know anyone cuter than you that he catches playful aggression the whole time, wanting to bite into you and pinch you all around. Eywa help him, he hasn't felt like this in his life, ever. None of his siblings were close to being this delightful. His Paskalin is way too loveable.

♯ You don't cry at night, go to sleep easily, only fuss when you want or need something, and are full of smiles and laughter, you know how to entertain yourself. Neteyam can't believe how convenient everything is.

♯ His father says Neteyam was like this as a baby too, and you've taken after him. Usually, the first child's perfection tricks the parents into having more children, he says, and it's the easiest trap to fall into.

♯ Turns out, it's not something Neteyam is happy about. How flawlessly well-behaved you are as a baby, he means. He wished you would act out more, Neteyam would happily go along with your whims.

♯ It stems from his own childhood wounds, he wasn't allowed to be childish, so he hopes you would be. Neteyam wants to give you everything he wanted but couldn't have as a child.

♯ So he spoils you rotten. And it feels gratifying to make you happy.

♯ You and him are inseparable. Wherever he goes, you toddle behind him like a shadow.

♯ Neteyam is warned multiple times by his parents for overindulging you that you'd end up uninterested in the company of your peers, therefore experience isolation and loneliness, and end up hyper-independent because of those poor social skills, that you would end up selfish and entitled because he gave you whatever you wanted and become hyper-sensitive to criticism and in-family conflict due to not experiencing emotional toughening by interacting with friends and being too overly fond of him, your main source of affection.

♯ Some of those worries end up being realized, and some of them don't.

♯ As you grow up, Neteyam's wishes that you would want to be spoiled more get grander. His daughter is generous and loving. You aren't immature and childlike like he wants you to be. His Paskalin keeps getting sweeter as you get older and older. You don't ever ask for anything the more Neteyam wants to keep giving, always saying you had everything you could ask for in life, and if you wanted a specific something, you could get it yourself and wouldn't want to bother him with that.

♯ Neteyam really regrets praying to Eywa for an obedient child.

♯ He thinks of having more children at times, to give you companions, but gives up on it as soon as he entertains the idea. He would never want you to go through the same things as he did as the eldest brother.

♯ Neteyam doesn't know what to do about you not straying from his side and only ever wanting to be around adults. Your favorite people are your grandparents. That shouldn't really be a child's first preference, right? He knows he was like this, but also, it wasn't normal. Even your aunt Tuk was too young for you and her hyperactivity made you uncomfortable for some reason.

♯ He never knew your dislike of going out and socializing, your preference of staying on your own rather than getting close to your younger cousins.

♯ Great Mother, you weren't a shy girl that he knows of, always talkative and energetic with him. Neteyam has only noticed your quietness recently when you were old enough to go and start learning with other kids.

♯ You don't have any friends that he knows of. You orbit around people your age, but don't get involved, more interested in your hobbies and interests and duties within the village.

♯ His mother told him this would happen.

♯ Kiri tells him he has raised a girl version of himself and it bothers Neteyam. He loves that you are a daddy's girl and so close to him that you are basically transparent to him, but he really wishes you were more childish. You are too mature for his liking.

♯ When you hit your teens, he's confronted with a new dilemma. He doesn't know what a helicopter parent is, but his father says Neteyam has become one. That he doesn't allow you to face failure and challenges, and heavily guides you the more he becomes anxious about how you're turning up. He says Neteyam needs to leave you alone.

♯ Which he's too anxious to do. He doesn't know where this comes from and why he's this way. Neteyam just worries too much and doesn't want you to have the troubles he did.

♯ It becomes particularly stronger when he finds out you were having bullying problems.

♯ In the clan his father was the Olo'eyktan of. In the clan he was to be Olo'eyktan of. He can't fathom the audacity any more than he can't believe you were hiding it from him. You never hid anything from your father in your life, ever. He makes you cry for the first time when he confronts you and gets angry over it.

♯ You hadn't even done anything wrong, and Neteyam regrets it immediately, hugging you and apologizing for it on the spot.

♯ He offers to teach those kids who saw you too meek a lesson, but you tell him that they do it because they think of you unworthy to be his daughter and Toruk Makto's family. He learns they think you're weak and passive with barely any presence at all, when you were the brightest and sweetest girl Neteyam knew.

♯ Someone had taught you humiliation where he couldn't see or help. Stripped you off your worth. These kids were jealous of you. They wanted your status and it was clear as day to Neteyam, but he couldn't make you see the way he saw.

♯ It's Lo'ak who teaches you how to bite back, Kiri how to hit where it hurts with words and Tuk how to manipulate. None of them let Neteyam get involved, you have to do this on your own and prove your worth to yourself.

♯ He can't be more proud of you when you manage to stand up for yourself, and excitedly tell him about it one day along with the news that you have made a couple friends, too.

♯ The feeling of you branching on your own path stings and weighs heavy in his heart as he tastes the bittersweet of his child growing up, but his Paskalin would be alright, he decides.

♯ He will be with you every step of the way.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve very rarely gets sick. He prides himself on it.

But when Eddie spent three days in a row in bed with a fever, puking every time he got up, and coughing everywhere he could reach, Steve had no choice but to stay and take care of him. Which meant he spent three days in direct contact with whatever virus decided to leave Eddie bedridden.

Halfway through his shift at Family Video, he turned to Robin and said he was going to pass out.

She didn’t believe him, laughed it off like he was being dramatic. “You’ve been hanging around Eddie too much lately.”

So when he passed out five seconds later, she panicked. He opened his eyes to her frantically trying to move him onto his side.

“Robs, ‘s not a seizure.”

“Right, but what if you puke?”

“I’m just dehydrated.”

He wasn’t just dehydrated.

He was dehydrated and feverish and exhausted.

He was sick.

Robin called Eddie to come pick him up, rambling nervously over the phone about his symptoms. Steve couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but he knew Eddie was probably laughing at the situation.

“He’ll be here to get you in 10 minutes. Can you please not pass out again because I don’t think I can handle it.”

“Sure, I’ll just tell my brain to hold off until Eddie’s here.”

“Thanks.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he settled on the floor behind the counter. Robin wouldn’t let him stand up again in case he fell and hit his head, which was actually probably a smart move.

When Eddie arrived, he took one look at Steve on the floor and sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I warned you, Stevie! I said ‘you’re gonna get sick, you shouldn’t stay’ and what did you do? Mommed yourself right into the flu.”

Steve didn’t dignify that with an answer, mostly because it would take too much energy to give one. He stood on shaking legs and made his way to the door.

He felt so weak, he barely registered when his knees started to buckle. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and held him up.

“Jesus, Steve. Were you feeling this bad when you left home?”

Steve shook his head and let out an embarrassing whine. His head was throbbing, a dull ache set in shortly after he got to work, and only got worse after he passed out.

“Can you make it to the van or do you need me to carry you?”

“I can make it, just…help?”

Eddie kept an arm wrapped around Steve’s waist, supporting most of his weight as they walked to his van. He opened the passenger side door and helped Steve get seated and as comfortable as possible.

Steve let out another small whine when he realized he would have to move to buckle himself in.

“What’s wrong?”

Eddie was so nice. Maybe he could buckle him.

“Belt?”

Eddie wordlessly reached for the belt and buckled Steve in, his hair brushing along Steve’s cheek and chest as he pulled away.

Steve repressed another whine, though for a different reason, when Eddie’s hand brushed against his thigh.

His thighs were sensitive, even in jeans. Sue him.

Steve nodded off during the drive to his house, barely aware of Eddie singing along to something on the radio.

When they arrived, Eddie unbuckled Steve’s seatbelt and helped him out of the van. He was saying something to Steve, but his brain wasn’t processing any of it.

He could barely keep his eyes open while Eddie got him upstairs and into bed.

He could feel Eddie’s rough hands gently pulling off his jeans and shirt, but couldn’t offer much help.

Passing out really did a number on him.

“Yeah, I think it did.”

Oh. Steve said that out loud. Interesting.

“You don’t do anything halfway, do you? Get sick and it’s like your brain’s melted out your ears.”

Steve let out a giggle before relaxing against his pillow.

Eddie started to tuck him in, pulling his covers up to his chin and brushing a piece of hair away from his face.

“I’m gonna get you some water. You hungry?”

Steve felt his stomach turn at just the thought of food touching his mouth. He used all of his remaining energy to shake his head.

“Be right back, Stevie.”

**********

When Steve opened his eyes again, it was too dark to even recognize his own bed. It’s been so long since he slept with no light, he felt disoriented and scared that the power had gone out.

Just as he was struggling to sit up, he heard a grumble from the floor followed by a groan.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I’ll get the light.”

Before Steve could process who the voice belonged to, his bedside lamp turned on and covered him in a golden glow.

Eddie.

The room started spinning around him before he could say anything. He closed his eyes to avoid the disorientation, but it only made it worse.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart. I’ve got ya.”

And he did. Eddie’s arms were wrapping around Steve and pulling him against his chest, solidifying his presence in one place despite everything else in the room moving.

Steve melted into Eddie, breathing in the faint leather and smoke smell that never failed to make him feel safe.

“You just have no filter when you’re sick, huh?”

Eddie laughed softly, brushing his lips against the top of Steve’s head.

Steve didn’t give a response, not able to actually produce words when he wants to, apparently.

“You’re burning up. I got some Tylenol for you while you slept. You should take some now and try to rest.”

“Stay?”

Eddie didn’t respond, just moved to grab the water from the table and hand it to Steve. He watched as he took the Tylenol, telling him he did a good job before putting the water back on the table.

Just as Steve settled against Eddie’s chest again, he was moved away by strong hands.

The whimper he let out stopped Eddie in his tracks.

“Are you in pain? Robin said your migraines get so bad sometimes you can’t move. Is that happening?”

Steve shook his head, immediately regretting doing so when the room started spinning again.

“Stay.”

It only took a moment for Eddie to adjust them both so they could lay down together. Steve wasted no time in curling into Eddie’s side, and Eddie’s hand found it’s way to Steve’s hair.

His fingers gently pulled through some of the tangles, smiling to himself when Steve couldn’t hold back a shiver.

“Feel okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Can’t believe you let me get you sick.”

“‘S worth it.”

“You’re ridiculous. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

Eddie only hesitated a moment before dropping a kiss to Steve’s forehead.

“Promise.”

They hadn’t acknowledged the way Steve had acted when taking care of Eddie. They hadn’t talked about the cuddling and small kisses to his hair or cheek or nose. They hadn’t even been around each other since Eddie was feeling better.

But this felt like a turning point - no more ignoring the way they felt about each other. If Eddie was reading things right, Steve wasn’t just like this because he was sick and slightly delusional.

They’d have a talk when he was better, but for now, Eddie let Steve suction himself to his side and take the comfort he needed.

[creedslove]

POOL PARTY ☀️

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Even though you're sick, you still went to Pedro's pool party - which you discovered was made only for you, you don't feel well, but you can't disappoint him by not taking a swim with him

Warnings: fluff with no plot, just fluff, a teeny tiny bit of angst and sexual tension, but again, fluff

A/N: this is silly and lame and definitely not the kind of story I usually love writing but I am sick and I need comfort so someone bring me pedro pascal over here so I can hug the hell outta him and tell him how precious he really is

2.4k words

You spent the whole morning thinking of a way you could say no to Pedro.

From the moment you woke up and felt your throat itchy at first, only to feel it burning and finally going completely sore in the symptoms of inflammation you were already so used to, to the sneezes that annoyed you every couple of minutes and the overall feeling you had just been hit by a truck made it pretty clear it was not the ideal day for a pool party.

You cursed yourself, the weather, your life, everything. Out of all the days in your life, why did you have to get sick exactly the day Pedro had invited you - and begged you to show up to a pool party?

You and Pedro were… complicated.

You were friends, like, real good friends at first. And then you became a couple, but you two decided being a couple wouldn't work. You hated the exposure he had, it wasn't his fault of course, but it baffled you how he handled going out for a coffee, for lunch, or simply walking down the street and being photographed and filmed all the time. You just didn't like the feeling you would have to watch your back every time so you could have a tiny bit of privacy. No holding hands, no kissing, just walking around like two acquaintances, either that or having your photo all over gossip websites, comments bombarding it all the time calling you and Pedro horrible things, fans claiming to being jealous and hating you for dating him, as he was supposed to be theirs and no one else's. It was too much.

On Pedro's part, it was hard to balance a relationship with his working schedule, he worked hard and that meant he was most of the time unavailable, unless you traveled with him to where he was shooting, which was impossible because you had your own life, your own job and as much as you would've become a trophy wife for him and only Pedro, you guys never got to this point.

The affection, the attraction and the spark was still there, so even after you broke up, you decided to be friends again.

But maybe, just maybe, you hugged too much, cuddled too much and kissed too much as friends.

And that was why most of his co-stars hated you.

Pedro always tried to be as discreet as possible, he never admitted bluntly though you never directly asked, you didn't have to, you knew him enough for that. He was a flirty little shit, he was handsome and sexy and they were always gorgeous. It was obvious he very often had affairs with them. And if he was in a near enough location and asked you to visit him, or if you bumped into each other at a restaurant or even if you went to a dinner party at his home and they happened to be there, they immediately hated you.

Not because of you though, you always acted nicely to anyone and it would be no exception to them, but you wouldn't kiss their ass just because they were famous either.

Of course you would keep your distance from Pedro if they were around. You wouldn't hug him as much or hold his hand but there was something there and neither of you could control it.

It was always exchanged glances, or inside jokes, it was obvious to everybody but the two of you, you were just two stubborn idiots in love.

You hadn't seen each other in over a month, he was all over the country working, shooting, attending events and you were on you well-deserved vacation, so when he finally went back home, he'd texted you about the pool party he was hosting.

Pedro knew you loved pool parties and you had spent countless hours swimming in his, so he was just so excited to have you over, he forgot to mention a small detail: you were his only guest.

You were also so eager to see him, you missed that man dearly and you thought he would be in Cannes enjoying the high life but when he told you he was back home you couldn't control your excitement. If it were up to you, you would've gone straight to his house or welcomed him at yours, it didn't matter, just to see each other. But the weekly appointments you had got the best of you and you forced yourself to wait for the weekend.

And then you woke up with a cold and you wanted to cry in frustration and sadness.

You could just not show up, but that was really not an option, and you could also tell him you were too sick to go, the only thing you'd have to face would be his puppy brown eyes looking at you as if you'd shattered his heart, and you didn't want that.

So you grabbed all the cold meds you had at home, took them in one dose, packed yourself a bag with your clothes and drove to his house. You figured Pedro would be distracted enough with his guests and he wouldn't mind if you just chilled on his couch, maybe watched something on TV and had some snacks before heading home, plus he would understand if you didn't dip yourself in the pool. Besides, if by any chance any co-star of his were there, he would probably pay much more attention to them in their tiny bikini than you anyways.

So when you arrived there and realized you were the only one, you thought you were too early or maybe you'd misread the invitation and screwed up the dates?

But there he was, Pedro in just his shorts and shirt, with a wide smile welcoming you to his place.

Your heart skipped a beat, he was so handsome and though he knew the effect he had on women - and men, and everybody really, you felt your heartache to know he didn't acknowledge how painfully handsome he was. He didn't see himself the way you did, and it was a shame because you saw him like the best thing that happened to you.

You couldn't help but smile back at him, grabbing your things and exiting the car.

He waited for you with his arms open, because Pedro didn't do formal greetings, he did hugs, and you loved it.

You flew to his arms and squealed as he wrapped his strong ones around your body, lifting you up softly and twirling you.

You giggled as he put you down and watched you. He really watched you. Taking his time observing you, as if you hadn't seen each other in years, when in reality it had been what? A month? Six weeks?

Still, you were so happy to be next to him you almost forgot about your cold. Almost, but eventually, you felt another sting on your throat and groaned frustrated, which made Pedro frown.

"I almost didn't make it, Pedro… I woke up like that" you said and pouted. He knew how much you hated getting sick. Not that anyone liked it, but you hated it, you often got so angry and cranky you couldn't even describe. You even avoided people when you were sick, as you didn't want to take down on them, but you could that to Pedro, you never avoided him and you were never rude to him.

He cupped his cheek and gave you such sweet lovely eyes.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, querida… you look a little pale, do you wanna lie down?" You chuckled how he offered you to lie down but didn't ask if you wanted to leave, because you knew there was no way he would let you leave.

You shook your head and entwined your fingers "it's alright, but I don't think I'll swim today" you smiled at him and looked around, looking for other cars, but there was only yours and Pedro's there. "Where's everybody?"

Pedro scratched the back of his neck and chuckled "well, you're the only one I invited…"

"Pedro, you do know the meaning of the word party, right? If it's just me, then why did you say there was a party?"

"Well, it is a party for my favorite girl…" he said adorably and you just couldn't resist him.

"Oh cariño" the nickname always brought a blush to his cheeks "if I weren't sick I would be kissing the shit outta you!" You laughed and walked inside with him.

Pedro's arm was tight wrapped around your waist as you eyed the pool and turned to him "you decorated the pool!!! You didn't have to do that!"

"Yes I did because it was supposed to be a pool party! I just didn't know you would be too sick to get inside" Pedro unconsciously stared at you with his puppy eyes and it made you feel guilty.

It was a very hot day, you were already sick, what could go wrong? It wouldn't get worse than that, would it?

So you sighed and smiled at him "fine, I guess I can't get sicker than this, so I'll get changed, will you wait for me to get inside?"

He nodded excitedly and grabbed himself a beer.

You ran to the bathroom, already familiar with his place and opened your bag, seeing the two options you brought: a bikini or a swimsuit. You went for the bikini, it usually made you shy to wear it among many people, but there was only you and Pedro there and well, since you'd seen each other naked many times, it wouldn't be a big deal.

You quickly changed and walked outside with your sunblock as Pedro had certainly forgotten his.

He was sat by the edge of the pool, feet dipped into water and wearing only his trunks.

You stood still and watched his body, he was looking so fine. He always did, but ever since he started the preparation for his new movie he got even more attractive.

You reminded yourself you were there to enjoy your friend's company and not lust after him.

You joined him and smiled "hey there handsome" you winked and coughed a little, feeling shy to be sick like that and got some sunblock on your hand, spreading it over his shoulder "you need to take care of your skin, handsome" you said sweetly and leaned in, which Pedro corresponded but frowned as you pecked his forehead instead.

He groaned softly and took some sunblock into his own hands and did the same on your back, mirroring your moves as you felt his big hands over your skin. And his hands were pretty big, almost as big as his…

You stopped yourself there and saw he was staring "maybe you should get this top off, you know, so you can get sunbathed properly" he suggested and you rolled your eyes.

Suddenly Pedro hugged you as tight as he could and threw himself into the water, dragging you with him as his weight caused you to fall.

He was so boyish you couldn't help yourself but laugh, seeing him swim towards you and wrap his arms again around your figure, pulling you closer.

Pedro was flirting with you as much as you flirted with him and though you shouldn't keep on doing that, you couldn't resist him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your back to the edge of the pool so he could sustain your weight with no trouble. He laughed softly "I missed you a lot, princesa" he whispered and kissed your neck, making you groan, taking your hands to his cute wet hair and giggling.

"Fuck Pedro, don't tease me" you asked and saw him looking at you, he was admiring you and leaned towards you, but you quickly moved your head away, avoiding his lips and received disappointed eyes.

Your heart clenched, you didn't like seeing him like that, you would never refuse him, but you didn't want to kiss him, you were sick and he would get sick.

Pedro, on the other hand, felt disappointed. You'd been distant from him, you wouldn't kiss him and in his mind you had probably met someone better than him, even if your legs were wrapped around his body, sometimes it was so hard for him to believe you liked him.

His gripped around your body loosen and he sighed, letting go of you and looking down "sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable" he said in a low tone but your hands quickly held his head in place.

"No honey, it's just that I am sick, if you kiss me you'll get sick too, and it's gonna be a problem for you when you go to work again" you tried to reason him and saw how his eyes softened.

His hand cupped your cheek and he swam closer again, one arm around your waist and ready to kiss you…

When you started coughing and couldn't stop.

You quickly turned away, your body shook as you were positive you had a fever now. You thought you couldn't get worse than you already were, but guess what, you were wrong.

"Shit, baby girl, come here" Pedro said, as he had managed to get off the pool and held a towel, helping you climb up the steps and wrapped it around your body.

"You take a warm shower and you'll lie in bed, got it princesa?" You nodded, shivering and walked back to his room.

You didn't take long in the shower, though the warm water felt really good as it poured down your body.

You managed to put your clothes back on after drying yourself and smiled as Pedro waited for you.

He made sure to get you comfortable in your bed and joined you. His arms were wrapped around your body and no matter if you told him many times he should stay away so you'd get him sick, he still refused it.

He held you close and rubbed your back up and down, making sure you were covered and warm.

"I know you don't wanna kiss me, but I was wondering if we could maybe go on a date, like a proper one, what do you say?" He asked with a small blush spread across his cheeks and you couldn't believe how sweet Pedro was, and for a second, you wanted to be selfish and kiss him as deep as you could, even if it meant he'd get sick later.

So you did it.

If he got sick, you'd take care of him, like he was taking care of you.

_____

A/N: idk I am just sick and I want Pedro to take care of me 😭

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Death

Yandere!Kidnapper x f!Reader

warnings: fanatic behaviour, kidnapping, unreliable narrator—split perspectives—contradictions, mentions of self-harm, suicidal tendencies, mentions of sexual topics, touching without consent, heavy religious themes, yandere has taken somewhat the role of a caretaker, forced infantilization

Note: Read at your own risk tbh, I perceive this story as pretty disturbing, however if you can handle heavy topics, then enjoy. :)

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

He was righteous, has been all his life, or well, had been until he met you.

There just wasn't a way to stop himself, no, to stop the demons haunting him from taking you in his grasp, imprisoning you in his humble home.

Perhaps he was doing you a favour? Chaining you to the bed placed in his basement just for you, white ruffles decorating the sides of the countless pillows and the duvet cover. Everything pristinely white—linen, handpicked for you.

He even dusted it and cleaned it, installed an old-school TV and even got you coloured pencils and endless amounts of paper of all kind!

And it all was just for you. How romantic, don't you think?

Your captor was nice—he was soft, even his edges didn't hurt you. He never raised his voice, couldn't even imagine hurting you, even if it was just a hair on your precious head.

You were his entire life. His gift from God himself.

However he quickly realised that you didn't quite share his opinion. You weren't horribly hostile, tried to appease him in fear of his sometimes rash and almost fanatic behaviour, fearing one day he might just flip the switch and obsess over breaking a bone in your body, yet you never were overly soft. There was this wall between you two that bugged him greatly, but he just didn't know how to destroy it.

To top it off, you feared death at his hands, at first. However as days faded into weeks and then into months—and before you knew it a year had passed with no one succeeding in rescuing you from the obsessive stalker clinging to you—you started fearing a life with this man.

It started off with small things, like you eating less, your leftovers slowly increasing in size or you would leave the paper completely blank instead of scribbling something onto it.

Until it started affecting other areas of your very limited life like you starting to lose interest in watching TV, the only luxury that connected you to the outer world. Until that penetrating dark cloud hanging over your head affected you more severely, so much so, that it worried him.

You his sacred bride losing your excitement for life was terrifying. He couldn't imagine a life without you—he refused to even think about it, the sheer thought was too painful.

You refused to eat, laid around all day, didn't even fidget when he would not so subtly try to seduce you. Well he was a kidnapper, but he would never force you to spread your legs for him! So he was still waiting for your heart to warm up to him, however instead of warming up, you started fading away from his grasp.

It was so petrifying, so much so that he started asking his pastor for help, then his colleagues—he even searched through the internet at the computer of his local library!

Depression.

in big bold letters was what popped up first, a page dedicated to mental health. He was mortified reading through everything, the symptoms and what it could possibly lead to. Death. The word daunted him and haunted him.

He rushed home, your captor breaking out in a cold sweat, only experiencing sweet relief seeing you curled up beneath the covers, pale in the face as always.

Days have passed and now he clung to you like glue. “Sweetheart—Sweetheart you have to eat!” he whined, the spoon once more missing your mouth as you twisted your head away. He bound you to the chair to keep you still and yet you kept on avoiding his attempts at feeding you.

“Say Ahh love! C’mon for me! Be good? Please, sweetheart!” he pleaded and begged to no avail, you gazed at him empty-eyed and shook your head. That was when he finally caught sight of the red streaks down your neck and collarbone.

At first he thought it was an allergic reaction, then he remembered you hadn't consumed anything but water in the last few days. Then with a glance down at your shaking fingers, feeling over the broken and bloodied nails he realised.

Your own nails. You hurt yourself with your own nails.

He lost it. The bowl of boiling hot soup landed on the ground, porcelain shattering as he lunged forward, grasping your hair and tilting your head back to gauge the damage to your holy skin.

“How could you?—” he spat in revulsion, face mirroring the rage that was consuming him inside, yet he never could be mad at you for long.

“Sweetie—Sweetheart—” your kidnapper's voice faltered, face pulled into a grimace, he let go of your hair, easing the sting of your scalp, sinking to his knees in front of you, pleading with his eyes.

“Please talk to me baby, please tell me what's wrong. Is it the TV? I can buy you a new one. Do you want new pencils? Do you want crayons? Maybe watercolour? I can get you new clothes if that is the problem!— Sweetheart please, please talk to me.” he broke down, fat tears running down his cheeks, pathetically clinging to one of your calves, licking a strip up your knee.

“Baby—baby.” he whimpered, crying into your two knees, fingers now grasping your lap in such desperation that if it wasn't the man that kept you captive you might have felt more sympathy for him. It wasn't as if you hadn't considered just carving in by now and accepting him as the person that would be beside you till death, yet the thought hurt. It dug a hole in your heart and left you wanting to pluck each individual hair follicle out of your scalp.

You just couldn't bear stand his constant whining and begging, humping you dry from behind like a dog when he thought you were deep asleep, preaching that he was a devoted believer to god, when he had kidnapped you, forced you down here, kept you still chained up, with only limited times when you could use the restroom and then always with the door a split open to ensure you didn't flee from the narrow window placed over the toilet. Showering was even worse, he would insist on staying, waiting behind the shower curtain, eyeing your shadow. When you would step out he would be bright red, averting his eyes and adjusting himself before finally draping a towel over you that always managed to smell like his musk. It was disgusting.

Even though he claimed that he would never hurt you, he had overly violent episodes, where he would just throw things around, rip up the extensive pages upon pages of your emotional rant, threaten you with a broken glass bottle, before always falling to his knees, crawling on the floor begging and pleading for forgiveness.

All in all he was a walking contradiction and never could be trusted. So wasn't it clear why you would prefer death over being stuck with the constant fear of what's to come?

“Baby” he whined incessantly, clinging to you like a lifeline. Bastard. You kept on ignoring him. It wasn't just this day, but all the following days, opting to just leave yourself to rot away.

However it seems you didn't calculate that he was so transfixed with you, that he would protect you from anything and anyone, even if that someone was yourself.

“Sweetie” he whispered oh-so sweetly into the shell of your ear, still weary from your restlessness the night prior, you didn't even want to turn in your bed to face him. Big mistake.

Before you could see it, you felt it. Fingers grasped your jaw, some sort of fabric draped over the lower half of your face, a strong scent engulfing you all while he rocked your head back and forth, stroking your hair lovingly.

When you woke up, unbeknownst to you, you succeeded in losing all your privileges.

“Sweetheart! How are you feeling?” he chirped, the basement now completely padded, decorated in pink, filled with toys and plushies. That wasn't all—because you regretted looking down.

A diaper. You were wearing a diaper. You breath staggered, horror written across your features.

He snickered, stepping closer to you, kneeling down to your level on the floor. “Sorry Sweetheart, but— you just wouldn't listen to me. You were starving yourself! It was obvious that no one ever taught you properly. You didn't receive proper parental care—they didn't care for you enough, they didn't love you as I do. So I am just going to start from zero and reteach you everything! How does that sound? Good right? You will love it!” he cupped your wet cheeks, the real nightmare starting just now, with the prospect of being saved already having slipped from your mind, understanding that this hell was your new reality.

He leaned forward, lips brushing against your scalp as he whispered something so gut-wrenching you hoped that he would swallow his own tongue and choke on it.

“Cuz’ Sweetheart I gotta teach you real good, so when we get our own baby you will be a good mother, yeah? A great mother! The best mother!”

he laughed.

[imagine-silk]

Fallout characters reacting to Sole who (with the Ghoulish/Solar Powered Perks) are practically immune to all radiation, and maybe that perhaps they learn this when they step in apprehensively into the Glowing Sea with them and notice they don't need a rad suit or anything to fight those rads? (Thank you for what you do!!)

》It's such a big flex out in the wasteland. Imagine the world's biggest threat not applying to you.

【Cait】 "Ya eat lead too?"

She doesn't believe you until you're walking around the Glowing Sea unfazed. Is she jealous? Yes. Is she going to make that your problem? Not really. Other than demanding chems to get rid of the problem she keeps on going. The faster you are the faster you leave.

【Codsworth】 "Oh! That's new."

You weren't like that before. Not that he's complaining, any advantage you have is fully condoned by him. As long as you're alright he has no issue with it. Besides, he likes the fact he's also not effected by it so he can go with you in these places.

【Curie】 "Marvelous!"

She immediately starts identifying why you are like this and reinforces her body accordingly. She will do further test just to be sure she's right but other than that she won't ask much.

【Danse】 "Good thing I have power armor."

Unlike most synths, his resistance to radiation is nonexistent. He was made to blend in with the masses. But he kept his armor/ got a new armor and there's always rad-away.

【Deacon】 "I can do that too."

He can't, but he hides it very well. You won't see the symptoms of radiation poisoning so whether or not you believe him is up to you. He will complain about the green everywhere though.

【Hancock】 "How come you get to keep your smooth skin? I feel cheated."

It's all in good fun. He knows if he stays in radiation too long he'll go feral but he does like the idea he can tolerate it more than any of your human companions. Might even stick his tongue out at them as you leave with him.

【MacCready】 "You wanna share that superpower with me?"

He's annoyed to put it mildly. Why did you ask him to come out with you to the waking sea? Just wanna show off? He still needs to take rad-away and radX. Next time take someone who can go into radiation no problem. He says all that but will always follow you into the Glowing Sea.

【Nick】 "That's one less thing to worry about."

He constantly worries over your well-being. You need to do so much he doesn't; eat, sleep, and drink to name a few. He decides not to question the development because he doesn't want to jinx it, like if he found out it would be taken away.

【Piper】 "And here I thought vault dwellers would shrivel up and die at the color green."

She laughs at the idea more than she asks questions about why you're like that. She figures you just got tolerate over time on the surface. That being said, she tells Nat and immediately starts a rumor you were some sort of superhero before the bombs.

【Preston】 "I can't imagine what happened that allowed you to do that."

He's relieved, impressed, and tired all at the same time. At some point he just learned you're going to defy every rule he knows and to let it go when that happens. Would it be nice to have your plot convenience? Yes. Will he ever tell you that? No.

【X6-88】 "It is assuring you can handle this endeavor."

He was made to handle the surface, radiation has no effect on him. Not that he would like to test it or spend any unnecessary time in the Glowing Sea.

【Travis Miles】 "You kind of seem impossible. I-I mean that as a good thing."

After everything he's seen of you he can't imagine anything could kill you, radiation included. Still there is a fine line between impressing him and scaring him and you seem to use that line like a God damn jump rope.

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Porridge for— you guessed it— A Bashful Captain (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: After hearing the shocking news that Gepard is sick, Serval entrusts you with the task of making sure he doesn’t burn himself out while no one is watching. Good luck with that.

▸ Genre(s): fluff

▸ Word Count: 5k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions

A/N: I’ve been struggling to get my posts to show in the tags, so let me know if you want to be taglisted! It’s really demotivating seeing my work get demolished by the algorithm.

MASTERLIST

How nice it was to have a moment of respite after a long and arduous campaign.

At least, that’s what the captain wished he could say.

Every muscle in his body seemed to be screaming at him to stay in bed after he woke up that morning. His throat felt like it had been scraped with steel wool and then some. Plus, his body felt chilled, even after piling far more than the usual number of blankets on his bed.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Serval had said. Aeons, she was right.

Gepard vaguely registered the fact that this combination of symptoms spelled disaster, but nevertheless, he had to get up. He drew in a deep breath in an attempt to gather the strength to hoist himself out of bed, but the air seemed to have invisible barbed wire that scoured his already painful lungs. He broke into a hacking cough that echoed throughout the estate and immediately sat up to cover his mouth with his elbow.

A knock on the door drew him out of his misgivings.

“Young master Gepard?” A concerned voice— which belonged to one of the maids— called.

Although the captain felt like his stomach was churning like butter, he shifted the blankets aside and treaded towards the door. Even the estate felt dreary that morning as the sunlight reaching through the window was weak and scattered (Due to a thick cloud covering, indicating an impending snowstorm.) The expensive plush carpet on the floor of the room did little to ease his newfound dislike of standing upright.

How silly he felt, a man who trudged through waist-deep snow on the daily, was now reduced to a sniveling mess in his family home. Gepard, still rubbing his nose, opened the wooden door slightly.

The shock on the maid’s face was evident as she caught her first glimpse of him. He really did look worse for wear, his golden hair was unkempt, his complexion was pale, and he had to lean on the doorframe to keep the room from swaying and bending inwards and—

“Um— young master. I heard you coughing,” she blurted out, eyeing his drooping eyelids. “Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water?”

Gepard raised his voice to respond but instead let out a ghastly wheeze followed by coughing that sounded like thunder. He turned his head away so as not to catch her in the blast.

“Y-yes, please,” He resumed looking at her. “That would be much appreciated,”

His voice was uncomfortably hoarse. She glanced up at him. “Would you like it with lemon or without?”

The young man didn’t get a chance to respond. His calloused hand slid down the doorframe, his vision went fuzzy—

—and then everything went dark.

The maid’s shriek echoed off the walls, causing the sparrows that perched on the windowsills to take to the sky.

Her voice turned heads, both maids and butlers alike, all throughout the manor.

(It is said that they still speak about it to this day, much to her chagrin.)

❆ — ❆ — ❆

You were convinced that work was going to give you a heart attack.

With the Solwarm festival upcoming, flower sales practically exploded. Your job as a florist was a source of many joys, but even you had your limits. Your hands were permanently stained with a mix of red and orange from all the Solarflowers you’d been handling. It looked like brilliant flames adorned your arms, but it lost its novelty after you realized you couldn’t wash it off, even with industrial strength soap.

And you had a catch-up with Gepard in three days. Just great.

He’d sent the invitation through a surprise letter a week before he came home. He said he’d be busy for a bit with mission debriefings and yada yada, but he’d like to meet at Serval’s for lunch once he got the chance.

Couldn’t he have just texted me? You snorted when you opened it. Those nobles. (You betted that he’d never gone on a date that was anything other than a fancy matchmaking dinner.)

But then you realized that was dumber than dumb. He wasn’t allowed to have his cell phone on military expeditions. You nearly smacked yourself with the first edition copy of the Gardener’s Almanac in shame.

You cast a mournful, longing glance through the paned glass windows and out at Qlipoth fort. Of course Gepard had ten thousand meetings to attend to after getting home.

A pang of pity reverberated throughout your chest. Didn’t he at least deserve a short break? He was like a herding dog that never got a day off.

You looked up from where your head was resting on the counter, feeling the warmth of a Solarflower bouquet spread across your face almost like a blush. Handing the customer’s change across the counter whilst simultaneously stifling a heartbroken sigh wasn’t much, but it was one of the hardest things you’d done all day.

I am so. Friggin. Tired. You groaned. The overcast weather was really getting to your mood.

A clatter came from the back, which caused you to prick your ears.

“Hey, (Y/N)? The plumbing in the upstairs sink broke. We’re missing the right kind of wrench. Would you mind going out and grabbing it?” Meg spoke.

“Sure,” you perked your eyebrows, eager to escape your thoughts for a split second. “What kind is it?”

Your boss handed you a paper with the details, and you swung your florist’s bag over your shoulder with newfound gusto. A trip to Serval’s workshop was exactly what you needed.

The breeze outside the shop was stagnant. It made you shudder. You couldn’t control the weather, but you could sure as hell skip to the shop to spite the bad hand you’d been dealt recently.

The bronze shop bell dinged to announce your entry. And Serval, the owner of the Neverwinter Workshop, was fast asleep on a pile of papers.

That can’t be comfortable,

“Hey, Serv—,”

She shot up from her desk faster than you could blink.

“Welcome to Neverwinter Workshop! What can I— Oh! (Y/N)! Sorry about that, I just uh… dozed off for a bit,”

You chuckled. “Not a problem. I just came by for an 18x18mm wrench. Would you happen to have one of those?”

Molly, the assistant, peeked her head in from the back. “Only a few hundred of them,”

You stared back, flabbergasted. “Why so many?”

“Miss Serval put an extra zero on the order form,” she said with a shrug.

Serval looked at you sheepishly, her blue eyes filled to the brim with embarrassment. You shot her a glance loaded with concern.

“Have you been getting enough rest?” You inquired.

“Yeah, totally! Well… The band and I have been pretty busy with rehearsal lately. Y’know, with the Solwarm festival coming up and all—,” She waved a hand in the air dismissively. “—anyways, the person who’s case you should REALLY be on is Gepard’s,”

You lifted an eyebrow at her attempt to deflect the blame. “Yeah? And why is that?”

She paused, not paying you the slightest crumb of attention before she let out an planet-shaking yawn.

“Huh? Oh, he’s sick. Real nasty case. He got it from Pela,”

“Jeez. Seriously?” You exclaimed. “That sucks. I hope he gets better soon,”

She blinked slowly and tiredly. “Yeah, yeah. We do too. He actually passed out this morning,”

Your eyes went wide.

“He WHAT???”

“Ah, well, he passed—,”

“Nope, nope, nope. I got it,” you said, rubbing your temples while staring at the floor. “Holy crap. It must be really bad then. Did he have to go to the hospital?”

Serval shook her head. “Nope, thank Qlipoth. Lynx has had to crash here so she doesn’t catch it,”

You glanced around the workshop. “She has? Where is she?”

Your friend pointed at a stack of cardboard boxes stacked beside a shelf.

“Right there,”

And clear as day, you spotted the white tufts of fur from Lynx’s hat sticking out of her sleeping bag.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Okay… So, let me get this straight. Gepard returned home and promptly passed out,” You gripped the edge of the reception desk so hard you thought it might splinter. “Is anyone keeping him from going to the meetings or… anything?”

“Well, yeah. He knows well enough not to spread his sickness around. What I can’t say for sure though is that he’s not forcing himself to do paperwork… and stuff,” Serval hummed to herself, sorting through another stack of papers that had been rearranged from her catnap.

You let out a withering sigh. “Someone’s gotta stop him,”

Picking up your phone, you hurriedly dialed his number. After far too many seconds, you flopped helplessly onto the desk. No answer.

“Ugh. Can’t we like… call Dunn or the household or something?” You said weakly.

“I thiiink you may be blowing this one out of proportion,” she grinned, showing her pointy canines. “Why don’t you stop by if you miss him so much? You can knock some sense into him or whatever,”

She smirked as she saw embarrassment seep into your face.

Aha! So you DO miss him,

“Yeah, if warp trotters fly, maybe,” you tried to hide your expression by running a palm over your face. “I can’t just show up unannounced,”

“You sure can! I do it all the time,” she said cheerfully. “Usually when the man of the house isn’t there, though,” A look of distaste flashed in her eyes.

“The head butler has a good memory. He should remember you. Say I sent you—,” she perked up. “Oh! Here, I’ll write you a note,”

The blonde-haired woman yanked open a wooden drawer with an ear-piercing screech and lifted a notepad and pen out from its confines. She scrawled something out quickly.

“This should do,”

You squinted at the note skeptically.

I hereby authorize (Y/N), a friend of Gepard’s, to check up on him and make sure he isn’t working himself to death,

Signed,

Serval

[A strange doodle of a smiling face holding up a peace sign]

“Now go!” She shouted, practically pushing you out the door. “Go, go, go! You got this!”

“What—? Serval, I can’t—,”

“Yes you can! Call me if they don’t let you in. Rock on!”

She dropped you unceremoniously on the stone steps outside and slammed the door.

“Cheers!” Her muffled voice called.

I really should become a matchmaker, she snickered to herself.

You looked at the note once more and wilted.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Gepard’s residence was… exactly the same all the other times you had gone, maids and all.

It was still plenty overwhelming though. You brushed the wrinkles out of your tunic as you waited for someone to answer the door. It wasted no time swinging open with a force that could’ve flattened someone, had they been standing behind it.

You nearly squawked in fear. Didn’t these people know how to open a door normally?

While gripping your messenger bag, filled with a few things you had brought from home, you requested entry from the broad-shouldered man that answered. You had no trouble keeping your voice steady but your chest felt like it was being crushed under a metal boot as you faced him.

“Ah, yes. Anything for a friend of the young master!” The butler smiled warmly at you. He didn’t show any sign that he had picked up on your nervousness. Hah, you didn’t think you’d ever get over all these pairs of eyes on you each time you came.

But wait— a friend? Hadn’t you told them each and every visit that you were a gardener he hired?

You bit the edge of your lip but kept your mouth shut.

He motioned you inside. “He’s been resting. Please, let us walk you up!”

You kept your eyes trained on the velvet carpet draped on the stairs as you followed him up. The floorboards squeaked softly under your soles.

When you got upstairs, the curly-haired man stopped in front of a particular door. “Just go on in,” he instructed.

You thanked him and rapped on the door lightly.

“Gepard?”

He looked up from his paperwork hurriedly from where it was bent over the desk to the source of your voice.

“It’s me. Serval sent me over to check if you were doing alright,” you said, leaning your head closer to the wood.

Gepard’s brows knitted together.

If she really wanted to, she could have busted my door down like last time.

He switched off the lamp and got out of his chair.

You heard a croak that sounded like “coming” and winced away from the door. Eek. He must be in really bad shape.

The door opened, causing a breeze to hit your face. After not seeing his face for a month, this wasn’t how you expected your first meeting to go.

By Qlipoth’s grace—, you clapped your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from saying it out loud.

Gepard’s hair was messy and his cheeks were crimson. Locks of his golden hair covered his eyes, which were puffy and red. Better yet, he was wearing a matching set of blue and white striped pajamas. You nearly gawked. At least he wasn’t wearing his uniform if he wasn’t working.

He took in a quick breath to greet you but a harsh bout of coughing cut him off. Turning away from the door, he hacked into his elbow and tried to shut it.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you wedged your buckled boot into the space between the door and the frame. That swift action shocked him out of his coughing fit.

“A-apologies, I wasn’t expecting a visit. Please step away before I give you my illness,”

“Oh! That’s why you shut the door,” Your mouth went wide. “I thought you knew the real reason why I came!”

His eyes went wide as you used your forearm to force the door open wider, a vaguely threatening gesture.

What real reason?

“Forget what I just said,” you grinned while sauntering into the room. “Anyways, my immune system is great! I used to eat dirt when food was scarce in the Underworld. It’ll take a lot more than a cold to kill me,”

“Oh my. Is— is that so?” Gepard cleared his throat, forming a fist over his mouth. He followed a few steps behind you as you went about the room.

“Yessir. I came to say hi! Nothing more. Definitely not,” You chirped, looking around his quarters (not at all suspiciously, by the way.) “How are you feeling?”

Wait, didn’t you say Serval—?

He didn’t get to finish that thought.

“Well— all right, I suppose. A little lightheaded and feverish,” his eyes trailed your form moving about. “I took some medicine earlier, and my condition has improved some. Nothing a little rest won’t fix,”

You nodded, not sparing him a glance. “Yes. Rest. Glad to see we’re on the same page here, Gepard. Hey— you moved your bamboo plant in here!” You spotted a joyful little green plant in a pot on top of his desk.

He gave you a puzzled look. Your behavior was…strange, to say the least.

“Ah, yes. I moved it because—,”

—it reminded me of you, he narrowly stopped himself from saying.

“—I read that bamboo didn’t need as much light as I was giving it, so, I figured it would be fine if I transferred it,”

You bent your knees a little to take a closer look at it. “I see. The soil looks nice. Mind if I turn on the light to take a closer look?”

“Be my guest,”

You rotated the little key that controlled the lamplight. It flicked on, spreading a warm glow onto the books and papers on the desk. A glint reflected off a dollop of ink resting on a half-written paper.

You froze. That ink is fresh.

Bristling indignantly, you whisked your head towards him. He picked up the change in mood immediately and blanched.

“I thought you said you’d been resting,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I have,” He paused, confused. “Well—,”

“AHA!” You shouted. “I gotcha! This ink is fresh, Captain. Don’t think you can fool me,” You said triumphantly, placing your hands on your hips.

“Serval— she did send you, didn’t she?!” He sputtered. The usual stoic captain was nowhere to be seen as he rubbed the back of his neck in shame.

“Yes. She did. But also I would’ve come either way to make sure you weren’t wearing yourself out,” you snorted playfully. “She said it was highly likely you were doing paperwork. And paperwork IS. NOT. REST.” You shook a finger at him accusingly.

Gepard flinched slightly. “I’m not exerting myself physically, so there’s no need to worry, (Y/N). Really,”

The air around you seemed to grow dark. You cracked your knuckles, staring him straight in the face.

“Sit down. Now,”

He obliged, choosing to plunk down on his bed.

“I know it feels like you’re wasting time doing nothing, but your mind needs to recover too,” you shook your head disapprovingly while giving him an exaggerated sigh. “You should know that,”

You pulled up a chair in front of him and took a seat, facing the window so he was looking at your side profile.

“I don’t care if you’re the most capable man on Jarilo-VI—,”

—and it was pretty likely that he was,

“You need time to rest, just like everyone else,” you lectured, opening one eye to peer at him teasingly.

“Right,” Gepard replied, defeated. He had nothing against you.

“Did you even wear the scarf I gave you out there?”

“I did, but I didn’t want to dirty it,” he replied. You gave him a snort, which quickly turned into laughter.

“Aww. That’s thoughtful of you,” you flashed him a smile. “I made it knowing I might have to make you another one though. Or three. Just let me know if it gets too damaged to wear, okay?”

Gepard looked down at his striped pajama pants, a small smile crossing his features. “Thank you. I appreciate it,”

His chest almost hurt with all the things he wanted to say trying to fight their way out.

“No problem. If anything, you deserve it,” you sang. “On the other hand, have you eaten anything today?”

“I haven’t,” he rested his head on his chin. “I don’t seem to have an appetite, unfortunately,”

“I see. You should get something in ya though. Natasha told me your body could use the energy,” you stated knowledgeably.

He tried in vain to stamp down the feelings in his chest that sprouted from seeing your concerned expression.

For him. You cared about him.

Aeons, he didn’t deserve this.

“You can ask the cooks to make you some porridge or something,” you suggested. “I have some instant stuff, but it might not be to your liking,”

“I’m sure yours will be fine,” he rebutted quickly. “I’d be happy to eat it,”

You looked at him disbelievingly. I’ve never seen someone so determined to eat instant porridge,

His face stayed just how it was, his eyebrows weighing heavily on his eyes, just like twin anvils.

“Yeah, ok,” you let up. “Do you have a kettle or anything close by?”

“I believe there is one in the kitchen that they use for tea. You can ask the maids to retrieve it for you,” he motioned to the left.

You shook your head and got up. What use was it to call a maid for a trip that merely entailed going up and down the stairs? (Well, there were a stupid number of stairs, but that’s a whole other issue).

Kettle, bowl, spoon, and cloth napkin in hand, you bolted back upstairs to your patient. You plugged the kettle in and set it down on a towel so the heat didn’t damage the furniture.

Tapping your feet while you waited for the kettle to boil, you took a quick glance around the room. It told you a lot you needed to know about Gepard.

Firstly, he was relatively neat. Of course the areas of high traffic, like the bookshelves and the desk, were messier, but they hadn’t more than a few specks of dust on them. His uniform was hanging off of a dark oak armoire, and his military medals were pinned on a cork board attached to its door.

Secondly, there were quite a few pictures hanging on the walls. There were a few of him at awards ceremonies, at various ages. And one of him as a cadet— and wow— he was pretty short back then. He stood almost a whole head shorter than the other guards. You almost squealed with delight.

You turned back to him, noticing his eyes were glued to where you were staring. Oops.

You hurriedly apologized for staring so conspicuously at the photographs, but he shook his head at the statement. Photos were meant to be looked at, after all.

This quickly led to a slew of questions he wasn’t expecting, such as “How old were you when you joined the Guards?” And “Did Serval ever threaten to bench press you?”.

He almost laughed at that one. Probably. His nose wrinkled a little. Or whatever. You figured he’d finally laugh for real once the moons collided with Jarilo-VI.

The kettle began to whistle.

“Ah, water’s boiling,” you said, turning towards the outlet where it was plugged in.

Gepard had since settled down in bed, pulling the covers over his waist. You poured the piping hot water into the bowl carefully, the steam forming curls in the air, and covered it with a lid.

After a few minutes had passed, you set the bowl on a library book from your bag (Eek. Bad idea.) as a makeshift tray and stuck a spoon in it.

“Voilà. Enjoy!” You flung your arms in the air ostentatiously as he looked onward.

Gepard took a spoonful and blew on it gingerly. You watched him with an expectant look on your face. Although whether you were expecting something good or bad, you didn’t quite know.

He lifted it to his mouth and you zeroed in on him even harder.

“It’s delicious,” he said with conviction, meeting your eyes. You squinted at him.

“Um. Gepard, I think the fever is messing with your brain. Are you sure you can taste right now?”

“I’m sure,” he responded.

“No way!” You exclaimed, slapping your forehead. “Let me try— actually, wait. That’s a bad idea,” you sighed. “I’ll just have to believe you,”

The captain nodded affirmatively. He brought another spoonful up to his mouth and relished it, feeling the warmth spread across his tongue. You swore as you watched him savor it contentedly that you’d buy some on your way home to try for yourself.

While Gepard polished off the contents of his bowl, you yammered on about various events that had happened in Belobog while he was away. You had been saving them for when you got together for real, but you figured now was just as good a time as any.

Once he had finished, he rested the spoon on the side of the ceramic bowl.

“Thank you for coming to visit me, (Y/N),” he said gently.

“Someone had to,” you laughed while kicking your feet up. “When I heard you’d been bumbling about all day, I nearly had a heart attack!”

He ran a palm over his face, closing his blue eyes. “Yes— and I’m sorry for that,”

“I didn’t want to believe her, but you guys both have a tendency to push yourself way too hard, you know?”

“By her, you mean Serval?”

You pursed your lips at him.

“That’s how the Landaus are,” he exhaled heavily, letting out a small cough he quickly covered. “It’s… our duty to bring glory to our name, after all,”

You folded your arms. “Maybe by fighting valiantly or repairing automatons, but crawling through paperwork?? I don’t think so. Secretaries that want to help you are a dime a dozen. It’s a lot easier than risking your life in the Snow Plains,” you chortled.

“You’ve probably filled your glory quota for the next two centuries, Gepard,” you glowed. “Bronya and Pela know just how hard you work. You can always ask for help,”

Gepard sighed again. (He did that a lot.) You made a good point.

“I’m sure I’ll recover in no time, thanks to all of you,” he said sincerely. You imitated the sound of an explosion while opening your fist.

“Boom. Magic porridge,”

To your surprise, this elicited a short chuff from Gepard; This caused your breath to get lost somewhere in your throat.

It felt strange seeing him so unguarded in his bedroom with his hair unkempt, in contrast to the well-polished emblem of strength shown on the recruitment posters everywhere in the Administrative District.

You folded your hands over your lap contentedly, silently thanking Serval for clueing you in today. Out of the blue, Gepard spoke up.

“When I recover, would you like to go to the Belobog History and Culture Museum with me?”

That startled you. “Really? I have been wanting to go,” you gnawed on your thumbnail hesitantly. “But are you sure? With all the stuff you have on your plate?”

“Positively,” he replied, his blue eyes capturing all of your attention. You quickly averted your eyes before your circuits overheated. “Volunteers can bring in one guest for free. I… know we haven’t had too many chances to spend time together because we’re both busy, but I figured I’d make an offer anyhow,”

You didn’t catch the last half of that sentence over the sound of a train whistling in your ears.

This should be illegal.

Is he even hearing himself right now?? To— to spend time together?? If I wasn’t super-duper ultra perceptive, I’d think he—,

You clamped your hands on your cheeks (internally, of course) to still yourself, while the rest of you stared straight ahead.

Oh dear,

“Sure!” You blurted out, stiff as a statue.

Smooth, (Y/N).

Fortunately for you, an alert from your phone jostled you out of your internal minefield. You flipped it open while trying to expel far too many thoughts from your mind at once.

It was Serval. You popped into your messages app to see what she had sent— and in true Serval fashion— she had sent the most mind-boggling, disorienting message possible.

From: Serval at 13:44

S: how’s he doing? did u get there alright?

S: ahh you’re probably busy.

S: tuck him in for me, will u?

You nearly spit out your drink. Gepard blinked at you.

You— you can’t just SAY something like that, you cried internally. Not when my feelings are all messed up! I should get out of here before this gets any worse,

“Is something the matter?”

You sighed, long and heavy. “There’s always something, isn’t there?”

He made no move to make any inquiries.

“Anywho, I guess I should take my leave now,” you spoke, reaching down to pick up your messenger bag off the floor and rising from your seat. “before I keep you up any longer. Take it easy, okay?”

“Ah— yes,” he replied, not letting the disappointment leak into his voice. He wondered about the sudden change in mood, but he didn’t want to pry if it would cause you discomfort.

“I’ll… keep that in mind,”

You smiled warmly at him.

“Good,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Even though you had left with the reasoning that you didn’t want to keep him awake, Gepard was anything but tired.

His strict internal clock as a soldier was probably to blame. A sigh echoed throughout the room. It was way too quiet now. And the velvet curtains absorbed any sound too weak to escape them.

He had to do something to keep his mind active. Maybe reading, perhaps? But the only books he had on his bookshelf were on war strategy and history. Both of which were related to his job.

How about drawing?

Now, that didn’t sound too bad.

He got out of bed and picked up a pencil, a spare piece of paper, and the floriography manual you lent him, off of his desk to use as a hard surface. As he settled into his mattress, he peered out the window one last time. He spotted a familiar green beret against the tan limestone bouncing way faster than necessary down the steps leading to the plaza.

A chuckle escaped his lips.

Well, time to get started,

❆ — ❆ — ❆

You sat in the break room of the florist’s, reading the latest edition of Automatons Weekly while waiting patiently for the porridge you had bought from the grocers to finish absorbing the water.

Vaska sat across from you, drinking floral tea while flipping through Tales 2. You’d prepared a bowl of porridge for her as well, just a different flavor. Hers had flecks of green and black in it, and it smelled quite good. Rather savory, in your opinion. The one you had gotten Gepard was the plain kind.

They had a surprising amount of flavors of porridge specifically at the grocers, like cinnamon, coconut, banana, whatever. It was honestly overwhelming. The fact they spent so much time curating the porridge aisle was weird, considering they didn’t have anything worth buying from the Underworld. But nonetheless.

After lifting the lids and seeing that the grains were sufficiently cooked, you both dipped your spoons in and shoveled them in your mouth.

“Blech!” Vaska said, coughing her mouthful into a napkin. “It tastes like soap,” You looked at her wordlessly as you swallowed yours.

You pondered for a moment.

“You know… I think I’ve had dirt more flavorful,” you said, bursting into loud laughter. “And how exactly do you know what soap tastes like?”

Vaska gave you a look loaded with venom.

“Whatever. You up for some cookies?” You shrugged.

She snickered, cracking open the door to the sweets cabinet in response, and fished out a jar of Meg’s famous chocolate brownie cookies.

Well, so much for that plan.

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

💙 THANKS FOR READINF I LOVE YOU 💙

[captain-mj]

Can we get ex-barracksbunny Simon from your TikTok to finally give Johnny that one chance to treat him so good?

It would be criminal to not answer this lmao. In my brain, this is og soapghost but y’all can view it how you want

Ghost sighed softly as Soap started up again. 

“Come on, LT. Bet I can treat you better than anyone else.” Soap sounded so confident. Ghost was well aware the only reason he kept pushing is because Ghost hadn’t actually said no. If he did, Soap would stop. 

“Don’t think you can MacTavish.”

“You two aren’t on a private line.” Gaz cut in. “Just thought I’d say that.”

“Fuck off, Gaz. Simon, you could at least check for yerself?”

Ghost could hear Price taking a deep breath to scold Soap on how what he was doing was borderline sexual harassment. 

“Alright. You act good on this mission, I’ll give you a chance.” 

Price started coughing, choking on his words.

Soap very slowly, accent thick as honey, “What sir?”

“Don’t get coy now. We’ll talk later. But only if this mission is handled well with no injuries.”

Soap was a goddamn angel. Every order executed with precision. 

Price looked so mad about it. 

After their debrief, Ghost went to his room, planning on a shower. He noticed his shadow quickly.

“Johnny. You’re taking me to dinner first. Tomorrow.  Unfortunately for you, I’ve gotten slightly higher standards.”

“I get to have dinner with you?” Soap followed him, looking at him like he hung the stars. Ghost rolled his eyes.

“Johnny, I’m already going to sleep with you. Now fuck off.” He hit the back of his head. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

“Will you be taking the mask off?”

“You’ll find out.” Ghost closed the door. 

In all honesty, Johnny’s simp behavior had zero to do with Ghost saying yes. It had been four years since he got laid. After getting captured and... everything that came with it, he just hadn’t wanted to.

His therapist had suggested two days ago that he was touch starved. Normally, he’d brush it off as dumb as hell, but he matched all the symptoms. He was pretty sure she hadn’t meant have sex with the nearest person, but casual touch didn’t seem like enough. 

In his past, he slept around a bunch. It had felt nice. Gave him connection. Was a lot easier than trying to fumble through conversation. 

Who knows. Maybe Soap would be good. At the very least, they’d be pressed against each other for a few minutes. Hopefully Soap had some stamina. 

He texted him. “Dress up nice and pick the place.”

“You got it, LT. Just keep looking pretty.”

Bitch.

Ghost did dress up nice though. As nice as he could. Plain black shirt, nicer black trousers, his ski mask. 

Soap had flowers when he opened the door. Carnations. 

Ghost stared at them for a second before taking them and setting them on his desk. “Thank you.” 

Soap smiled at him and walked with him, immediately talking like it was any other day. Ghost was actually pretty thankful for it, even though he didn’t admit. They were pretending they were just hanging out. Like normal. 

Soap had picked a pretty nice place, catching Ghost off guard. “One check, please.” He told them ahead of time. Ghost tilted his head but let it go.

“So why did you want to have dinner first? Not that I’m complaining.” Soap said the second part quickly, hands going up.

“I didn’t want it to feel like a cheap one night stand afterwards.” Ghost glanced at him. “I have to work with you. I’d like to be able to pretend I respect you in the morning.” He was teasing, moving closer. “Do you mind that much?”

“No. I like that I’m getting to spend time with you.” Soap smiled at him. 

Bastard. 

Simon felt stupid butterflies in his stomach. He squashed them. 

When the food came, he lifted his mask up only slightly. Soap openly stared at him. His eyes traced every feature he could see. 

Ghost started eating a bit quicker. He didn’t normally like being observed but something about the way Soap stared at him made him feel particularly weak. 

Soap smiled softly at him and they kept talking. 

It wasn’t until much later that Soap made a comment about the thing. 

“So... You really let them call you Pretty Boy Riley?”

Ghost blushed and unfortunately Soap could see it this time. “Yes. I did for a while... When I first joined the military, it was my first time away from my family. It was... I had never really got a chance to be out and then suddenly I was not only out but surrounded by a bunch of men who were interested. It’s why I slept around so much.”

Soap smiled at him, seeming genuinely interested. “Makes sense. I came out in secondary school. It was a bit different then.”

Ghost hummed. “Hard to imagine you as a teen.”

“I was a football player too. If you can imagine.” Soap laughed, taking another drink. They’d both went nonalcoholic for today. Probably a smart choice. “I bet you were a theater kid.”

“Nope. In a band.” Ghost laughed. “I was the bassist.” 

“No fucking way. Still play?”

“Haven’t tried it in years, but I could always try to pick up again.” It had been fun. “We were awful before you ask. My brother was the singer. He had my dad’s voice.” 

“Wasn’t your dad in a band?”

“As a drummer.” 

Soap laughed immediately and paid. He drove them since he “didn’t trust Ghost behind the wheel” for some reason. Ghost didn’t really like driving so he rolled with it, enjoying getting to sit passenger. 

Soap’s hand fell on his thighs and he stared, a little taken back. Ghost was ushered into Soap’s room. 

He expected there to be an awkward pause. For Soap to realize what he was doing, but then he was lifting Ghost’s masks up to just above his nose and kissing him hard. His hands were on Ghost’s hips, backing him up. 

“Simon. Can I take the mask off?”

His mouth was too dry to form words so he just nodded. Soap pulled it off of him. 

“I see why they called you pretty.”

“I’m sure the scars are pretty ghastly. Try not to look at them myself.” 

“Still a bonnie even with them, Si. Always will be.” Soap pressed his hands against his chest and Ghost fell willingly, hitting the bed. Luckily it was one of the nicer ones. 

Soap’s mouth was on his neck before he could really think, pinning him down. 

“Told you, Lt. Best you’ve ever had.”

“Cocky.” Ghost spat out but it ended up more of a whine thanks to Soap tugging his hair. They undressed each other in record timing and Soap just wouldn’t stop kissing him, holding his face with his hands running all over him. 

Soap pulled away. “Are you okay if I...” His hands slid between Ghost’s thighs, being... gentle.

Ghost stared at him, finding it a little hard to breath. “Yes. Keep going.” 

Soap nodded and reached under his pillows to grab a bottle of lube. It was half empty and Ghost shoved down any feelings that gave him. He watched him coat his fingers before gently pushing his first finger into him.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

“Been a while.” Ghost hummed, feeling his face flush. “Should’ve prepped beforehand...” 

“Nah, I like this part.” Soap grinned at him and started to kiss along his jaw. “I’ll return the favor later, yeah?”

“Who says we’re doing this again?” 

“I’m sure you can handle a couple of rounds tonight, right?” Soap kissed him and Ghost relaxed, letting him fit another. The stretch was... fuck it was great. Their chests were pressed together and all he could think about was how warm Soap was. 

Ghost groaned at the third one and he felt Soap’s tongue lick its way into his mouth. He grabbed the headboard, panting.

“Okay, enough. Come on, show me a good time, Sergeant.”

“That an order?” Soap teased as he pulled away. He was still being gentle as he moved him around, lining up. He reached up and grabbed Ghost’s hand. “Just squeeze if you need a break, okay?”

Ghost nodded, though he thought it was a bit silly, and held his hand tighter. Soap leaned over him so their lips were almost touching as he pushed in. 

Ghost groaned before whimpering. Soap paused, looking stunned he managed to get that sound out of him.

“I swear to God Johnny, keep moving.” 

Soap immediately started to push in again as he marked up Ghost’s neck and his shoulders. “How did you hide the hickeys?”

“Never let them make them. You’re special.” Ghost grabbed Soap’s hair and tugged him back down when he went to pull away. “Keep making them.” 

Soap bit him hard and thrust into him, Ghost scrambling at his shoulders with his free hand. He adjusted them slightly and slammed into again, making Ghost whine. Ghost was just about to say some sharp retort when Soap found it, hitting his sweet spot hard. 

Ghost saw stars, moaning softly. He squeezed Soap’s hand hard to ground himself and almost beat the man when he paused.

“Please.” 

Soap didn’t need anymore than that. He started to thrust in hard, hitting the spot over and over again. Ghost’s legs went around his hips as he moved, kissing Ghost every chance he got. 

“Johnny.”

“I got you Simon. What do you need?”

“Just keep doing this.” Simon bit Johnny’s lower lip and made eye contact with him. His hips continued to snap right into Ghost’s who was loving the treatment. Soap’s chest was also very nice to stare at and he got to run his hand over it, feeling the hard muscles under soft skin.

Before long, Ghost couldn’t seem to shut up. Moaning and whimpering as Soap hit that spot over and over again. He kept his eyes closed and felt his legs start to shake. A pressure was building his core and he knew he was going to have to take Soap up on the multiple rounds because he didn’t want this to end yet. 

Soap noticed. No clue how, but the fucker knew and he sped up. His hand bruised Ghost’s hips and he purred when Ghost scratched down his back. It was all so much. Too much. The skin to skin contact made him feel half insane already. 

Ghost pulled him down for a kiss and came, squeezing Soap’s hands so hard he thought he’d hurt him. He shuddered and buried his face in Soap’s neck, feeling warmth spread through him as Soap came too.

“Sorry, i should’ve worn a condom or asked or..” Ghost shut him up by kissing him. 

“Not the best but you’re up there. Your technique needs work.” Ghost flopped back. “You’re a quick learner. I’m sure you can figure it out with experience.”

“Experience? So we are doing this again.”

“If you want...”

“Knew you like me LT.” 

[foxwitchaine]

Which is your most hated character in Miraculous Ladybug?

I wouldn't say hate so much as strongly dislike, as it takes a lot for me to outright loathe a fictional character. More often than not, I have better things to spend my energy on than hating a fictional character.

But if I were to answer that, five take the top spot:

1.) Lila Rossi

I know. Surprising, isn't it. Well, it's all fun and games until you actually meet one in real life. And it's frustrating as hell getting those with the wool over their eyes to listen until it's too late. I have to emphasize that it wasn't originally part of the plan to redeem her in the early drafts. It was thanks to Rafe that I even considered doing a Lila redemption.

Lila had a lot of potential in the early seasons. Of course, that was before she was turned into a one-dimensional villain with little in the way of making her interesting. It says something that I got the feeling the showrunners were trying to make her hateable without actually putting in the effort while reading the Chameleon transcripts. (I had to stop reading to settle my blood pressure)

All in all, Lila is just a symptom of a bigger underlying issue regarding the show's writing. I personally think she has a very nice design, but it looks better in 2D than 3D.

2.) Gabriel Agreste

He's a severely underwhelming main villain. At the start, he had potential. But as the series drags on, it's become painfully clear that the showrunners don't actually know how to make a compelling main villain. He was surprisingly much more intimidating and better-designed in the pilot PV.

Gabriel also lacks the charisma you would find with iconic main villains such as Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII, the rogues gallery in the first Powerpuff Girls, Batman's rogues gallery, and so on. I could make a whole post about how to write Gabriel better, but I don't feel like resurrecting a dead horse.

3.) Adrien Agreste

The poster boy for wasted potential. When Rafe and I first started watching Miraculous Ladybug, Season 2 hadn't been released yet. He was nice, if a bit bland. Could have used some flavorblasting in both design and personality (he's a fashion model, for crying out loud. Where's his fabulous wardrobe?)

And then all the red flags in Seasons 3-5 started popping up.

As it stands, he's nothing more than a plot device to humiliate poor Marinette. And a mouthpiece for the writers' very skewed morality. We weren't going to redeem him at first, but then it occurred to me a fantastic way to strike a devastating blow against Gabriel. I won't say anything more since they're spoilers.

4.) Alya Césaire

Ohhhh boy. Where do I even begin with this one? Disregarding the racism allegations towards the writers regarding her character, Alya is just an awful best friend, plain and simple. While it's true that she's a go-getter who isn't afraid to go for what she wants, that same trait has pretty much been solidified into a toxic trait courtesy of her refusal to question Lila later in the show. Even after Marinette broke down in front of her and confessed her secret identity in Gang of Secrets.

I will forever hate that episode just for how entitled everyone was about Marinette's secrets.

When Rafe and I were brainstorming who to use as our civilian antagonist to fill in for Lila, it was rather telling that Alya was among our first choices. It wasn't our intention for her to fall as hard as she did in The Wolves in the Woods, but honestly? It was inevitable.

5.) Caline Bustier

She's a non-authority figure who coddles the troublemakers in her class. I'm restraining myself at the moment because I've had teachers just like her in real life. Who look good on paper and are the sweetest people on the outside. But their inability to discipline a class regardless of behavior does a lot more damage in the long run than many would care to admit.

Bustier is a character who I could have grown to understand if the writers handled her better. The biggest brat of the school is the daughter of the city mayor. That right there is a beautiful setup for interesting conflict. We could have gotten a plot where we had a good, caring teacher trapped in a terrible situation by her superiors. Which is unfortunately something that can and does happen in real life. Instead, we got an airhead who can't for the life of her understand this simple thing called nuance.

I find it very telling the fandom prefers Mendeleiev over her.

Honorable Mentions:

Principal Damocles: Too much of a spineless noncharacter to really care about

Tom and Sabine: I try to understand the parents' side of things given parenting is far from an easy task

Bustier's class: A mixed bag here, since I don't think they're necessarily bad kids

Mayor Bourgeois: Again, another mixed bag here since he's another spineless "parent"

Zoé Lee: Too much of a blank slate to have an opinion on

Félix Fathom: What kind of a name is that?

Master Fu: He was done so dirty in his backstory

Chloé Bourgeois: Another with wasted potential