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expectingtofly · 3 years

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What It Means to Love, 3k

established dean/cas, hurt/comfort, post 15x20, human!cas

day 2 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: hurt/comfort

“Dean, I am perfectly fine, I—” Cas paused, face scrunching up, then he sneezed before he could finish his sentence.

Dean took a step backwards. “Dude, gross! Seriously? Sneeze into your elbow. That’s like preschool 101.”

“Oh, then it’s so great that I went to preschool,” Cas said, managing to sound sarcastic even with his nose stuffed up. Dean winced as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his trenchcoat. “It’s not like I haven’t been a human for only three months.”

Right. “Yeah, well, guess this is the perfect introduction." How the hell did Cas manage to still look so adorable slumped against the kitchen counter, clothes wrinkled and nose red? “Welcome to humanity, you have a cold. Here, stop that.” He couldn't watch Cas wipe his nose on his sleeve again. They didn’t have tissues in the kitchen, but he grabbed a napkin and handed it to him. Dutifully, Cas took it and blew his nose. “What you need is to get in some comfier clothes, lay down, and get some sleep.”

Violating the few feet he'd put between them to stay clear of the germs, he stepped closer to loosen Cas' tie. Cas let him, saying, "I can still help research—"

"No, no." Cas leveled him with a glare, but it had lost its bite now that Dean knew he couldn't strike him dead with his angel grace. Okay, it was still pretty menacing. "I'm trying to save your ass. Sam will kill you if you sneeze on his laptop or precious books. Come on, take off the coat, you gotta be burning up."

He was helping Cas slip it off when Sam walked into the kitchen. “Ew, gross," he complained, covering his eyes with his hand, and Dean realized he was essentially undressing Cas in front of the kitchen island. "Get a room."

"Grow up," Dean said, draping Cas' coat and tie over his arm. Okay, so maybe they’d given Sam a reason to be on-guard now, but, "It's not what it looks like."

Sam lowered his hand, then frowned at Cas. "Woah. What happened to you?"

"I'm sick," Cas answered, as if that wasn't obvious enough by his glassy eyes and disheveled appearance.

"Well, uh, wash your hands," Sam said, stepping back as Cas started for the door, Dean following. "Don't wanna spread any germs. And try to stay out of the library."

"Told you," Dean whispered to Cas as they went down the hallway. In their room, he gestured for Cas to sit on the bed as he rummaged through their dresser. “T-shirt and sweatpants,” he said, handing them over.

Cas unbuttoned his white button-down which was identical to the dress shirts he always wore as an angel. Apparently old habits died hard—in this case, an affinity for business casual. Actually, maybe Cas getting sick and out of his old clothes was a good thing. Dean didn't know the last time the trenchcoat had been washed.

Collecting Cas' shirt and pants, he said, “I’ll get rid of these disease-ridden clothes.” He thought he caught Cas rolling his eyes as he pulled Dean’s sweatshirt over his head. "You watch TV or something, I’ll go see if we have cold medicine.”

After starting a load of laundry and raiding the medicine cabinets in the bathroom and cabinets in the kitchen, he returned to the room to find Cas sitting cross-legged under the covers of the bed, remote in his hands.

“Here, you go,” Dean said, handing over a warm mug. Ancient Aliens played on the TV; one of Cas' favorite pastimes was refuting every crazy claim and theory the show presented with his own recollections of the ancient times. “Sam said this tea will help. He ran out to get some medicine.”

Eagerly, Cas took the mug from him and took a large gulp, then coughed. "Ow. It's hot."

"Drink it slowly, idiot."

Cas took a more hesitant sip, then squinted up at him. "This tea is incredibly flavorless."

Dean snorted. "’Cause your nose’s clogged up. And you probably burned your tongue. Another joy of being human."

Groaning, Cas dropped his head back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. "Why is being human so difficult?"

Dean inwardly winced at that. Or thought he did so inwardly, but his expression must've revealed something because Cas glanced over at him, then straightened up, nearly spilling his tea. "Dean, I didn't mean anything by that."

Clearing his throat, Dean shrugged and sat down on the other side of the bed. "No, it's fine. You're right, being human sucks."

"And I wouldn't trade it for the world," Cas said.

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

Cas seemed about to say more, but then he sneezed. Into his elbow this time. Progress.

Ancient Aliens finished, and they got halfway through an episode of UFO Hunters before Cas started to nod off. Dean took the mug from him, and his eyes fluttered open, head jerking up. "I'm fine," he said.

"I know you're tired because you missed them saying aliens created the lost city of Atlantis."

Cas sniffled. "That's ridiculous. Everyone knows Atlantis was formed by—" He was interrupted by a yawn, and Dean made a mental note to return to that subject later.

“Come on, take a nap.”

“I am not a small child, Dean,” Cas protested, but he settled down anyway. Dean couldn’t resist adjusting the covers, essentially tucking him in. He wasn’t trying to baby him, but it was second nature seeing how miserable the guy looked. Turning off the lights, he went to the door. "You good? Need anything else?"

"No." Cas squinted one eye open to look at Dean over the blanket pulled up to his shoulders, and, fuck, if he wasn't still the most beautiful man Dean had ever seen, even sick as a dog. "Thank you."

A tiny alarm went off in Dean's brain about germs, but he returned to the bed to kiss Cas on the forehead anyway. True love, and all that. God, he was getting sappy in his old age.

Cas looked marginally better when he woke up from his nap. If marginally better meant pillow hair and pillow lines on his cheek. Well-rested, at least. He swallowed down the cold medicine Sam had brought home, complaining that he could taste enough to know the flavor was not, quote, "similar to anything occurring organically in nature."

"Whaddya wanna eat?" Dean asked him as he drained his glass of water. "And don't say PB and J," he added before Cas could speak.

Cas set his glass down on the nightstand and slid further down under the covers. "Anything that won't make my throat hurt more."

"My, uh, mom used to make me soup when I was sick."

"That sounds wonderful."

"Whatcha making?" Sam asked, coming into the kitchen. He lifted the lid of the pot on the stove and Dean snapped him with the towel.

"That's for Cas, back off."

"Wow," Sam said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. "Look at you."

"Look at me what?" Setting aside the pot lid, he scraped the celery he'd been dicing from the cutting board into the pot.

Sam shrugged. "Taking care of Cas, making dinner, you're almost domestic."

Dean turned red and scrambled furiously for a comeback. "Yeah, and you're, you're still a little shit." Nailed it.

Sam laughed. "Wasn't an insult. Just meant, I don't know. Different for you, I guess."

Dean eyed him, stirring the soup. "Don't have much of a choice. Poor guy just turned human and he's already going through it."

"I think he's dealt with worse than a cold before."

"Yeah, well, wish he didn't have to deal with any of it." Any of it meant plenty. Between Dean’s own fuckups, world apocalypses, and near-death and actual death experiences, Cas had been through the ringer several times over. And now he was human—which, by all counts, wasn’t the worst thing he’d been through, but it wasn’t ideal. It’d been a rough transition, anyway.

Cas seemed better recently, though, since getting somewhat used to being human. And things were going well between them. Getting sick was just one tiny wrinkle compared to everything they’d been through, right?

He stared at the soup and startled when Sam straightened off the counter with a comment that Jack was out with friends, he was leaving for Eileen’s, have fun giving Cas a sponge bath. Dean flipped him off as he headed out the door.

When the soup was finished, he ladled a bowl full and returned to the bedroom. Cas looked up from his phone when Dean entered with the bowl of steaming soup. “Hear from Claire?” Dean asked, nudging the door shut with his foot.

“She says she and Kaia have almost closed up the case." He set his phone aside. “They’ll be able to visit soon.”

“You tell her you’re sick?”

“She was incredibly non-sympathetic—thank you." Cas took the bowl from him. “She seemed to find it amusing that I once ruled garrisons and now can’t go five minutes without sneezing.”

Dean tensed, hoping Cas wasn’t hurt by the comparison, but Cas didn’t look offended. “Sounds like her.”

"Yes.” He breathed in the steam coming from the bowl. “This smells incredible.”

"Family recipe," Dean joked, sitting down next to him. "Well, someone's family. Straight from some blog online. Think it's pretty close to what my mom would make." He watched Cas pick up his spoon, and added, "Don't tell Sam." He'd never hear the end of it if Sam knew he was reading mommy blogs.

"Your secret is safe with me."

Dean picked up the remote as Cas ate, wondering if he should give Claire a piece of his mind. Sure, Cas was pretty easy-going about the whole giving up his grace thing, but no need to rub it in his face. Becoming human had to feel pretty pitiful after ages of being an angel.

He was trying to make it better where he could, though. “You wanna watch a movie tonight? I'll let you pick because you're bedridden."

"I am not," Cas protested, though he looked more than a little pleased at the idea of getting to choose. Dean braced himself for whatever ridiculous romance or musical Cas insisted on watching now—to date, he'd been subjected to La La Land , the ending of which had reduced Cas to tears for the rest of the night; Pride and Prejudice, okay not too bad, though he'd never admit it; and You’ve Got Mail, dammit not bad enough for him to hate either.

Instead of suggesting a movie, though, Cas said, "You're very caring, Dean."

"Uh." Dean turned from cycling through the movie options on the TV to look at Cas. He felt himself turn red under the look Cas was giving him, head tilted, that fond almost-smile he got. "Yeah, uh. What I do."

"Yes," Cas agreed. "It is what you do. You're very good at taking care of others."

"Oh, God, don't start that." By that, he meant the long compliments Cas so shamelessly gave him now, like he'd been storing them up for a long time and was finally able to hand them out. It was like the dam had broken that night when Billie and the Empty—

But he didn't want to think about that. Not when all the events since that day had led to Cas now sitting in bed blowing his nose, the trashcan by the bed overflowing with tissues. Poor bastard; he'd gone through one whole Kleenex box already.

"I'm only going to stop because talking hurts too much," Cas told him, tossing a tissue at the trashcan and missing sorely. Dean grimaced.

They nearly got through Mama Mia before Cas dozed off, head resting on Dean’s shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable position and Dean’s arm was half-asleep, but he refused to move. The mere fact that they were sitting together in bed, pressed against each other, was still enough to send him into shock anytime he thought about it too much. Cas—a literal former angel—had fallen in love with him. It was almost too good to be true.

But Cas was currently slumped against him, drooling on his shoulder, so he guessed it really was true.

As the credits rolled, he turned off the TV and touched Cas’ forehead with the back of his hand. Not as warm as before. At his touch, Cas blinked awake.

“It’s over already?”

“Whaddya mean, already? I just had to sit through two hours of singing and dancing.” It hadn’t been that torturous, but he couldn’t admit that—he had a reputation to uphold. Straightening, Cas rolled his eyes. “Feel any better?"

Cas’ expression turned thoughtful, as if taking stock of every physical sensation in his body, and Dean had to grin at his seriousness. He nodded. "Yes."

"Great.” He glanced at the time on the clock and realized it was later than he’d expected. “You probably wanna get some rest.”

Cas nodded with a yawn. "You don't have to sleep here if you don't want to."

Dean froze in the middle of pulling back the covers, mind immediately spinning out. "What?" They'd only started sharing a room a month ago, oh God, he'd known it was too good to be true, Cas was sick of him—

"I want you to," Cas said quickly, as if sensing Dean's downward spiraling. "I just don't want you to get sick."

Oh. Oh. Feeling a little sheepish for immediately jumping to the worst conclusions—one of his greatest talents, if he did say so himself—he shook his head. "Nah, I have a great immune system."

Cas' expression turned guilty and Dean narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"About that..." Cas started slowly. Dean gave him a look. "Well, uh... Your immune system isn't quite as healthy as you think. I've been giving it a boost for the past several years, every time you started to get sick."

"What?" Looking back, it was pretty remarkable that he'd never gotten even a common cold with all the other shit they dealt with. "Fuck."

"Sorry."

"No, don't apologize. I should be thanking you. So, uh. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Of course Cas had been taking care of him for years, Dean thought, when they settled in bed and he turned off the lights. Cas told him he was caring, but it was Cas who was the caring one. He’d sacrificed his life for him, for Christ’s sake. Then gave up his grace to return to Earth because he wanted to be with Dean and Jack and Sam and everyone. The guy didn’t have a selfish bone in his body.

The thought should’ve been a comforting one, but instead he felt antsy, unable to stay still, shifting under the blankets.

Turning onto his side, he nudged Cas, whose eyes had fallen shut. With a grunt, Cas opened his eyes and looked over at him.

“You alright?” Dean asked, which wasn’t really what he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to say it.

“I was when I was falling asleep,” Cas grumbled. But he shifted to face Dean. In the faint light coming from the bunker hallway, Dean could see the concern in his eyes. It sent a pang through him. Cas had given up so much, and Dean was doing all he could to make sure he never regretted it, and Cas told him all the time that he was content with his choice, but still the worry sat heavy in his stomach.

"Listen,” he started. “I just wanna let you know that being human isn’t all bad. I swear it won’t be miserable forever. I know you've been introduced to the bad shit first, but—"

"That's not true," Cas interrupted, touching Dean’s hand resting between them. Dean raised an eyebrow. "Dean, being human has been the single most rewarding experience in my entire life second only to raising Jack. It started with you rescuing me from the Empty and revealing my feelings weren't unreciprocated like I thought. I would say that's far from miserable.”

"Yeah, but you had to adjust to living without your grace, and eating food, and getting sick..."

"It's been difficult, yes. I won't lie and say I enjoy bodily functions or sneezing or headaches. But I do enjoy being with you and eating chicken soup and watching absurd TV shows. I wouldn't change this for anything. Whatever happened in our lives, it led us here. And I’m happy with where we are.” He studied Dean for a moment before asking, quieter, “Are you happy?”

“Yes, yeah, of course,” Dean hastened to say, because it was true. Fuck, it couldn’t be truer. “Of course. Just feel bad, I guess. That you gave up your grace and all that. Feel like I’ve hardly done anything.”

Castiel’s expression softened. “You’ve given me more than I could’ve ever dreamt of. And anyway, it’s not a competition, Dean. I take care of you, you take care of me. That’s what love is.”

Throwing that word around, love, still made Dean’s heart skip a beat. But it was true. He loved Cas and he’d do anything for him. The same, he knew, was true on Cas’ end.

Cas said it best, so he settled for lifting Cas’ hand and kissing his knuckles.

“I would kiss you," Cas said, smiling, "but I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Screw it," Dean said, and propped himself up on an elbow to kiss him. Then he shifted, turning over and pulling Cas’ arm to wrap around him. Even if the bastard was sick, Dean was making him be the big spoon.

"For the record,” he said, feeling Cas curl around him. “I wouldn't change anything either."

And he meant it. Even when he woke up the next morning with a sore throat and stuffed up nose. Cas—who seemed to have gotten over the worst of his cold—took only one look at him before declaring it was his turn to play doctor, throwing extra blankets at him and demanding the chicken soup recipe in a flurry of activity.

He’d take care of Cas, and Cas would take care of him. It sounded like a good life, Dean thought, settling back against the pillows with a smile. He wouldn't change a thing.

#j&kcreatorfest #destiel fic #fluff #hurt/comfort #human!cas #established dean/cas #post 15x20 #destiel #cas likes watching romances and musicals i decided for this fic #and history channel shows too #dean and cas' love language is forcing each other to watch shows and movies the other dislikes (or pretends to dislike)#expectingtofly writes

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doublekrecs · 4 years

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More than Friends

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer have gotten closer after that night of studying, pizza, and a little more. But could there be more growing between the two of you than just sex?

Warnings: smut, oral sex (female receiving), p in v action, risky pictures, fluffy ending!

a/n: Uh oh the feelings train has arrived at the station. Nothing sad I promise. I'm glad you guys liked the first installment and I’m excited to be writing my first mini series. As alway enjoy!

Part 1

It was almost spring break, you and Spencer had been going at it like bunny rabbits since January. Speaking of which, that's what you were doing at the moment. You had helped him gain a little more confidence in himself through the ‘lessons’ which were more you both just trying new things you haven't done before and ruining every piece of furniture in your dorms.

Ever since you taught Spencer how to properly eat you out he’s been feasting on you like his last meal. He’s taken his time to learn what you like and dislike, paying attention to what moves have you gasping and moaning little louder. You were currently spread out on the bathroom counter. Flowy sundress scrunched around your waist as he was on his knees drinking you up like water in the desert.

One of your hands was tugging at his hair causing him to moan in your heat, bringing you more pleasure. His right hand was pumping two fingers inside you, curling to reach the spot that made you whimper. The other hand was holding your thigh open to stop it from closing around his head. Even though he’d love nothing more than to die between your legs.

“Fuck Spence I’m so close baby,” you mewled grinding your hips on his face. His lips wrapped around your clit and fingers sped up their pace, making your orgasm wash over you. He slowed down slightly to help bring you down slowly. Feeling too sensitive you stopped his hand and pulled him up for a deep kiss. Moaning at the taste of him and yourself on his lips.

He pulled away and you chased his slips slightly placing another quick kiss.

“Well that was one hell of a greeting,” you giggled, stepping down to fix yourself up in the mirror.

His arms instantly wrapped around you, chin resting on your head. “Yeah well I like dessert before dinner sometimes,” he said smirking.

You pushed him off before reaching for your makeup bag to add some finishing touches. “Well if you plan on actually going to dinner then leave me alone so I can get ready,” you said playfully scolding and pointing a mascara wand at him.

He raised his arms in surrender and turned to wait on the couch. Picking up one of the many spare books he left at your place.

To say you guys had gotten close was an understatement. He had honestly turned into your best friend and you guys spent a lot more time together. There were many sleepless nights spent at each other's dorms and not just for sexy times. You stayed up learning everything about one another. Childhood memories to favorite films and biggest fears. He told you about his mom and his life growing up. Then you told him about yours, both shedding a few tears. That night as you fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms you knew it was different.

There wasn’t much said about your growing closeness but it was mutually accepted and welcomed. Petnames grew outside of the bedroom. It was normal for you guys to slip a “babe” or “sweetheart” somewhere in conversation. Same with holding hands, Spencer had mentioned he had a thing with germs but he made an exception for you and always found comfort in holding your hand when walking down the street or being cuddled up on the couch.

Even your professor had noticed. Besides noticing the improvement in your grade due to the study sessions you'd been having with his trusty TA, the older man would smile when he saw you guys interacting. Either when you'd first enter class with two coffees in your hand, one for Spencer which would usually have post-it on the lid with a physics fact he obviously already knew. Or when you guys would leave together, he would hold your books in one arm and hold your hand with the other.

The outing for tonight was to some new restaurant that opened up downtown. He opened the door for you and walked with his hand on your lower back as the hostess led you to a table. Completely ignoring you she kept her gaze on Spencer, practically the embodiment of the heart eyes emoji. He didn't seem to notice as he kept a polite smile until she walked off to bring you some waters.

"I wonder if she noticed you're not dining alone?" you said looking up from your menu.

"What do you mean?" he said looking confused.

You sighed, "Spence she was practically giving you the 'fuck me' eyes in front of me."

His eyes widened at the realization before clearing his throat and leaning in to whisper, "Obviously I didn't notice they don't work as good as yours."

He comically winked which caused you to giggle just as the hostess was returning with the waters. Spencer took your hand in his rubbing this thumb over your knuckles before saying, "I think we're ready to order. Right babe?"

That sly dog. You nodded and proceded to set your orders with a now pissed off worker, biting your cheek not to laugh at the bitter look on her face. Conversation flowed like normal after a different server brought out your meals.

"So are you going to see your mom for spring break?"

He perked up at the thought before diving into his last conversation with his mother. He had told her a little about your relationship and sent her a polaroid of you he took while you guys went bowling. He mentioned she was doing really well this month and it was a perfect time for him to visit.

"She says she'd want to meet you someday," he said with a little tint of pink on his cheeks.

"From what I’ve heard she sounds so lovely. You better tell her that I'm expecting a book full of embarrassing baby pictures."

You both laughed at the thought before Spencer asked what your plans for the break were.

"I'm uh not going anywhere. My family is a lot more focused on my older siblings since they're married and have kids to take back home and visit," you said playing with the rice on your plate.

"Well there's a few days before break starts so I say we make the most of them together before I leave," he said with a large smile.

You nodded and carried on with dinner. Afterwards you guys went on a walk through the park across campus before picking up some ice cream and making your way back to his place.

Watching a movie on the couch quickly turned into a heated makeout session. Spencer now let his hands wander freely. Slipping under your dress to rub small circles on your ribs then running down to squeeze your behind. His lips traveled to your neck as he sucked faint marks and bit the skin. You let out moans at the feeling of his lips and growing erection grinding against your warm center.

Your hand was at the nape of his neck playing with the hair that had gotten longer giving slight tugs. He pulled away and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before sitting up on his knees.

You got up on your elbows before asking, "What's that big brain of yours thinking of?"

"I want to try something new."

"Alright I'm all ears Spence."

He took a deep breath before spilling what he was thinking, "Would it be weird to um take pictures.."

You looked at him confused since you were sure the flip phone he carried around didn't have the best quality. He reached for his bag and pulled out his polaroid camera before he continued, "I'm uh gonna miss you when I leave, even though it's just for a week. And you always look really pretty when we do stuff."

"I'm sure I look like a dream, all sweaty and gross," you snorted. "But thank you Spencer," you smiled, "I'm ok with it as long as they're for your eyes only."

He crossed his heart and leaned back in to kiss you before pushing down the straps of your sundress. He moved away so you could push it down your legs, leaving you braless with just a pair of back undies with a lace trim. You would have worn a better set had you known about the impromptu photoshoot.

He took a few pictures of you with your hands on your breasts. He had you sit in his lap while he shot some with one of his hands right on your ribs. And some of you spread out on the couch giving the camera lust filled eyes. That was until you both got antsy and sped into his bedroom. The camera was placed on his bedside counter and instantly forgotten with the new mission of him grabbing a condom. You laid back on the soft pillows as you watched him pump himself to hardness and slip it on.

He crawled on the bed and made his place between your legs. You then reached over and grabbed the camera to snap a picture of your own, "Keep going."

He aligned himself with your center and pushed in a little. The stretch always making both of you gasp. Just then he heard a *click*. Out came a tiny photograph of the place where you were both connected. Setting the camera down in its place, Spencer took it as a signal to start moving.

He leaned down so he was resting on his elbows. The close contact had you looking deep into each other's eyes. Big brown eyes were dark, just a ring of the color you loved so much visible. Your arms were wrapped under his clawing at his back. He hissed at the feeling and started to thrust into you quicker.

Your head fell back in pleasure as your moans got louder. He was buried into the crook of your neck, you could hear and feel his heavy breathing on your shoulder. Your arms untangled from behind him as you placed your hands on his face to bring his lips to yours. It was deep and rough but there was a hint of something more there. Need? Passion?

You pulled away for air but stayed close enough that you shared the same breath. He didn't let up on his pace. You could feel every inch inside of you hitting spots you'd never felt before. He could feel your walls clenching around him signaling your incoming release.

"I'm not gonna last much longer Y/n. I need you to cum for me sweetheart." His hand went down to rub quick circles on your clit.

"Ah Spence I'm cumming," you gasped out connecting your lips together.

His thrusts started faltering and you felt him spill into the condom. You disconnected from the kiss as he fell on the bed next to you. He went to discard the condom and came back to wrap you in his arms.

Your head was resting on his chest as you traced little shapes with your fingers. You both shared the comfortable silence before he spoke up.

"Hey I was thinking, what if you came with me to Vegas," his hand was rubbing comforting circles on your back but you stopped with your shapes.

"I.. Spencer are you sure?", you asked sitting up to look at him.

"Yeah why not. I don't want to leave you here alone. But maybe I can introduce you to my mom," he cleared his throat, "as my girlfriend."

You sat there in a little shock and he started to ramble, "Or maybe not. It was a dumb idea. Just ignore what I said-"

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a huge kiss. "I'd love to go! And I'd love nothing more than to be your girlfriend, genius."

You both laid back down but he quickly grabbed the camera and turned it around to face the two of you. You pressed your lips to his cheek and he put on a bright smile for the camera to capture. The little piece of film came out and you both looked like you were glowing, with more than just the fuzzy feeling after sex.

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #mgg x reader #mgg smut #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #🧞‍♀️writes

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strikethematch18 · 3 years

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Dadzawa x F! Reader - Over Worked & Tired Part 2

After your shower which made you feel a little better than before as the act of cleaning the accruing sweat and radiating germs from your body. Your next step was hoisting yourself out of the shower base and to a position you can dry your body and get dressed. This would be an awfully awkward thing for your teacher to help you with, so this task left you on your own.

It took a little bit of time and effort but eventually, you did manage to dry your body. The next step was to put the fresh clothes Aizawa left for you on your body, they were definitely comfortable and comforting. This took a little less bit of energy but still took a lot. After sitting for a moment on the seat on the toilet you stood up to face your weakness and the overpowering world spinning.

You open the door to the bathroom quietly and slowly make your way down a hallway holding on to the wall for added support. It wasn’t long until you heard the quick steps of your professor coming from what you could assume was the kitchen in order to give you added support and led you over to a couch already made with pillows and a new blanket which made you frown slightly.

In your moment of help, you couldn’t help feeling a little guilty, “Y/N, you should have gotten my attention, and I would have been helped you sooner so you didn’t exert nearly as much energy and strength.”

Picking up on your frown Azaiwa said, “it’s just in the wash, I figured it would help and it would make it a little softer. Same thing with your clothes”

“Oh okay, thanks,” you responded weakly.

He stood in front of you and crouched down to your sitting level, “Do you think you could eat a little soup for me kid? It’s chicken noodle so it’s going to be easy on you. I know you’re not the biggest rice fan.”

Aware that you hadn’t eaten in a few days you responded, “Yeah I can try.”

As he walks away you begin to acknowledge how cold you feel but you know it’s a drawback of your fever. Truthfully you didn’t want to eat anything, what you wanted was to curl up in that blanket and sleep, but you weren’t about to let Azaiwas cooking efforts go to waste, and you putting it off any longer probably wouldn’t help your case either, so complying seemed like your best option here. In your slowed thinking you hadn’t realized Azaiwa was just arriving in front of you holding two bowls preparing to hand one to you.

You took the bowl with the spoon in it and were surprised to see your teacher taking a seat in front of you on the floor looking up at you with his own soup which confused you slightly. Had you not been sick and unable to concentrate or focus you may be able to comprehend what he was doing.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to eat by yourself, makes it a little less awkward, plus I’m a little hungry myself,” he said in his gruff normal monotone voice.

“Thanks for that, it actually means a lot,” you replied before taking a spoonful of the soup and eating it.

The meal took place in silence, you slowly eating your chicken noodle soup not wanting to rush yourself as you weren’t really all that hungry plus it felt like a lot of food. As Azaiwa eats his own he examines you in your sick form, He couldn’t help but feel responsible for this, he did push his students as far as they could but he didn’t see just how much he was taking and pushing Y/N. He tried not to show favoritism among his students, but he couldn’t help but care for you as though you were his own child. Really he just wanted you to be happy.

Spooning soup into his mouth, he began to think about the information he had read in your file over the years. He knew that your home life wasn’t all that great. Evidence that you were often left alone for days alone with no real-life knowledge of how to take care of yourself and a house. Your mom was an alcoholic and would have repeating men over that would verbally abuse you, and you did live with anxiety and major depression, but you didn’t know that he knew, all because it was in your student file. He remembered that he is going to have to do some updating to it now that he knows symptoms of the overuse of your quirk.

He noticed you had put your bowl in your lap looking down as though you were deep in thought, perhaps even getting down on yourself. Until he saw that you managed to eat only half the soup he had given you. As he quickly finished his bowl he then proceeded to stand up and gently take the bowl from you.

“Hey kid, it’s alright, you managed to eat something, we can do this again later when you feel up to it okay? I’m proud you made it this far.”

You looked up at him and nodded slightly to demonstrate your agreement on the matter.

After taking them back to his kitchen and in the sink the teacher sighed, he knew you felt terrible, but he was hoping for a little improvement on this, but this just showed you were working on it. He walked back into the living room and saw you still in the same position as before just sitting in a dazed state, but now he noticed your visible shivering from the fever you no doubt had. He put a hand on your forehead and once again you leaned into is getting a little bit of pleasure from the coldness to you. What he noticed was that you felt warmer than you had before and sighed.

He walked away and headed to the bathroom and into a medicine cabinet. He grabbed a thermometer and ibuprofen and Tylenol, unsure of what would help the circumstances more. Once he got back to you he crouched down in front of you again as you hugged yourself giving the illusion of creating a little warmth.

“Y\N, I need you to open your mouth and stick this under your tongue so I can check your temperature, okay? See what we’re working with.”

As it beeped he discovered the results were very undesirable, 102.4 degrees Fahrenheit, starting to get into dangerous levels. The time was approximately 6:00 in the morning and right about now would usually be preparing to train you in combat before classes for the day, but today is different for the obvious reasons. The teacher sighed as he debated on the blanket or not, but it would make you more comfortable so he left it for you,

“Alright, kid, why don’t you lay down and get some sleep. You’re staying here for the time being at least until I deem you well enough to go back to your dorm. Now, what works better for a fever reducer for you, ibuprofen or Tylenol?” he said and asked as he held the bottles up.

After releasing a small cough you responded with, “Tylenol works better for me.”

And with a quick motion, he took two out of the bottle and handed them to you take along with a bottle of water. You gave him a small smile of gratitude. And after you swallowed he set the bottles down and helped guide you to laying down knowing that to you, you must feel incredibly heavy and weak. Started with your upper body making sure your head hit the pillow, then helped lift your legs onto the cushions. He proceeded to take the blanket and placing it on top of your frame to provide that extra bit of comfort.

“Why don’t you close your eyes and get some sleep kid. I’ll be here when you wake up, if I’m not in here directly find a way to let me know.”

“Okay Mr. Azaiwa, but what about classes today, shouldn’t you be there instead of here taking care of silly old me?” you said with a small laugh that leads to a coughing fit.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, I’ll figure it out, right now you are my priority. Now go to sleep little one”:

And with that, you closed your eyes and your breathing slowed as you snuggled into the couch and pillow while wrapping yourself in the provided blanket. He sighed and took another look at the time, Roughly a quarter after 6. He knew Present Mic would be around in a little over an hour and a half as the human alarm clock with his projecting voice for teachers and students. He knew he was going to have to stop him this time since he knew you really needed the uninterrupted sleep and he knew it was essential to getting you healthy. In the meantime, he decided it was in his best interest to take a small nap and unwrapped one of his many sleeping bags and laid down in it on the floor next to you.

In about an hour and 15 minutes he woke up and got up to wait in the hallway to see Present Mic and ask him to not do his normal routine and explain the situation. Later in the day, he had plans to retrieve your laptop to email your professors at the American college and also speak to principle Nezu to alert him of the situation at hand, also he was supposed to alert him anytime a modification was to be made to a students file.

After a few more minutes Present Mic exited his room and was surprised to see his friend already out of his room and headed over to him.

“Hey Hizashi, anyway I can talk you out of doing your normal wake up routine?” Azaiwa asked.

“I mean sure, but why?” the other teacher proceeded to ask.

“I’ve got a very sick student crashing on my couch right now. She has been overworking herself and been trying to function on next to no sleep and forgot to eat in the mix of it. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be Y/N would it? She’s the American girl also working on her college degree right?” Hizashi asked.

“Yeah, that’s the student. I guess she at the end of the semester and is struggling a bit. I think she’s also been depending on her quirk more and has been overusing it. Speaking of which, you know how the symptoms of that were missing from her student file? Well, I finally found out tonight.”

“Well shit man, what are they?”

“From the information, she gave me they are usually a lack of focus, occasional headache, and often night terrors and the extra fatigue. I’ll be going to Nezu here in a bit since it will be a modification to her file.”

“Alright man, I’ll spread the news to ask I wake the other teachers up.”

“Thanks for that Hizashi, and would you mind helping out covering my classes today. I want to keep a close eye on the kid. Has a fever of 102 degrees and is really struggling,” Awaiza asked to hope for the best.

“Yeah no problem Shota, just take care of the kid and let me know if you need anything else from me,” and with that, he walked off to start his morning wake-up calls.

With this taken care of, he proceeded to walk back into the apartment and see Y/N still sleeping soundly and decided to crawl back into his sleeping back, hoping to achieve some sleep himself, as he too needed some sleep in order to help her.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa shota #dadzawa #anime #short stories #myheroacademia #my hero academia short story #boku no hero academia short stories #bnha #mha #aizawa father #aizawa teacher #easerhead #earserhead story

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nekowriteshaikyuu · 4 years

Text

Temptation

it’s contagious to touch you, but it’s also tempting to do so.

pairing: Sakusa x reader

warnings: fluff (?)

summary: you love affection, but Sakusa doesn’t. For your sake, will he come out of his comfort zone?

a/n: so,,heard haikyuu is ending TT. i’m so sed i haven’t even finish reading the recent chapters so i’m slowly catching up. But anyways after like a 2 week hiatus, i’m back so weee. hope this one will make up for being gone for the past 2 weeks. enjoy !!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ sakusa kiyoomi ♥

you and Sakusa have been dating for about 3 months now. Surprising, huh? considering he’s a clean freak. Despite that, you see through his habit as a really loving and understanding person. And you’ve always love him for that. But there is still one thing that has never change for these few months.

his fear of affection with you. You’re the captain of the soccer team, and every practice, there is never a time you’re covered in mud. You’re constantly running in the field, under the scotching hot sun or lightly drizzling rain. Both of your practices ends at the same time but Sakusa always finishes earlier to clean up and do his daily cleansing routine. By the time you’d change into some thin dri-fit shirt, he’s already squeaky clean from head to toe. Don’t get me wrong, Sakusa adore you, he loves you. He really do. But just by looking at you all sweaty, mud on your shirt and some on your legs, as well as your really chapped hands, he feels really uncomfortable. He basically gags and cringe over the sight of you all dirty and contaminated with germs.

This actually was an issue you both face. You’ve always love affection, and he knows that from the very start of your relationship . Forehead kisses, back hugs, cuddles when watching a movie, just thinking about it puts you on cloud nine. But Sakusa is never one to give you affection. Maybe some light hand caresses, but even that makes Sakusa pull out his hand sanitiser and spread it all over his hand. It does upset you on how cautious he is with his hygiene but it’s wrong for you to force him out of his comfort zone to satisfy your needs. So you just live with it. As time goes by, your constant yearning for affection slowly dies down. You just felt impatient waiting for the day to arrive. Sakusa noticed it as well. You began to be cautious with your hygiene around him. You’re at least arms length away from him everytime he waits for you during practice so he won’t feel grossed out, you’d scrub your body hard, making sure you felt like every bacteria just dies from the shampoo you applied, you’re always never touching shoulders when walking home together.

Sakusa felt a slight guilt that you’d do all these small gestures so he’d feel comfortable around you. He felt like he’s not doing enough to make you happy. He did tried to hold your hand once, but soon pulled his back to his side after the thought that he’d be at risk if taking that step forward.

As time flies, you’ve already picked up the habit. Arms length away, keep clean at all times, shoulder width apart. You don’t feel like the relationship is as lively as it used to be. It felt as if there’s a wall, blocking you away from Sakusa, forbidding you to touch him.

You sighed silently as you stare at the black board, chalk scribbles of math formulas across the board. You turned to your left and looked out the window, admiring the green grass growing in the soccer field. It’s been a week since you’ve been in the field. Your team finally graduated and it wasn’t compulsory to attend daily practices. You took this opportunity to rest and work on your studies, and just have moments with yourself to recollect your thoughts. As for Sakusa, he still attends training so you’d often wait for him in your class until he’s done to go home together.

It was after school and Sakusa left for training. You sat in your seat, watching the trees swayed from the wind. You yawned after staring back at your paper filled with black ink. You’ve been rewriting your english essay for a while now and you felt your hand ache. You decided to take a small nap, which turned into sleeping for a whole hour.

Sakusa ended his practice and was obnoxiously exhausted. He was constantly passing the ball without break. He slowly got up from the bench and went to wash up. As he continue to do his daily cleansing, he noticed how you’re not replying his messages. Normally it’d take only seconds before you’d see his messages and reply. He even gave you a call but it wasn’t answered. He knew where you were waiting and immediately went to your class after cleaning up.

As he open the door, he was welcomed with you resting on your hand on the table, pen in your other hand. He slowly walks up to you and sat on the corner of the table beside yours. He envyed how you were able to rest peacefully while he was having difficulty keeping the ball constantly off the ground. He slowly admire your features. Your hair falling on your face, your eyes twitching and your light snores, He couldn’t help but smile under his mask. Unconsciously, his arm stretched out to tuck your hair that was covering your face behind your ears. He basically lost his breathe just watching you sound asleep. That small moment, he realised, how much he yearned for your touch. your hands weren’t chapped, but instead it was so smooth. Your shirt wasn’t covered in mud, but scented with your strong floral perfume, For once, he just had the temptation to pull you closer to him, and rest at the crook of your neck and take the moment to ease down after a tiring practice

You slowly woke up when you felt someone beside you. You slowly got up before making eye contact with your boyfriend who was silent for a while.

“how long have you been here?” you asked with a groggy voice. He took a deep breathe, exhaled hard, and looked back at you before speaking.

“shouldn’t you have gone home if you’re tired? it’s not necessary for you to wait.” you slowly stood up , your hands up your head as you stretch from your nap.

“it’s okay, i had some work to do anyways” you struggled to reply as you continue to stretch. To you, it was nothing. But to Sakusa, it was like an opening.

Your waist wasn’t blocked by your hands, and it was just nice for Sakusa to pull you in his arms. The thought of it made Sakusa at ease. But he wants to experience as well aside from just imagining it. As you mindlessly stretch, twisting and looking out the window, you flinched as you felt a bold, firmed hand grabbed your waist, pulling you closer. Before you knew it, your boyfriend was settling into the crook of your neck. Just like how he wanted to for the longest time.

“o-omi?!” you’re practically panicking. The action was so sudden for you to process properly. You thought he did it out of force so you won’t feel sorry for him not giving you enough love. You tried pushing him away, but his grip tightened around your waist, giving you no way of escape. Sakusa slowly sinks in your touch, sighing under his mask. He could practically hear your heart beating faster than usual. So this was how it feels like to be touched, to be loved, with affection. For a moment, the thought of being contaminated and germs was washed out of his mind. All he was thinking about was how amazing it felt to hug you after so long of distancing from each other. (social distancing kidz)

You watch him as he rests onto you. You couldn’t help but smile, before placing a peck on the top of his head. You began to slowly play with his curls, feeling how soft and silky it is for the first time. You stood there silently as Sakusa takes the moment to wine down and ease up after an exhausting day.

“omi, we have to go home.” You said but he pulled you closer, sighing once more.

“just,,a few more minutes” He didn’t want this to end. He wants to hug you for as long as he can take it. But at last he soon let go after you lightly tapped his back. On the way home, he took the courage to hold your hand. You’ve never felt this happy. For a while, you’ve always been waiting for this moment to come, and it finally did.

You could see the invisible wall fade. Your shoulders were finally touching, hands intertwined with one another. You were so close to Sakusa you could rest your head on his shoulder.

“you’re gonna have to get used to this new habit of mine” Sakusa broke the silence. You looked up at him and noticed a hint of redness on his cheek, even with the mask on.

“hmm? what habit?” He turned away from you as he mumbled under his breathe, but you could hear clearly.

“...hugging you..” you just smiled before wrapping your arm around his.

“of course, omi~”

Well, let’s say that Sakusa is no longer fearing your touch no more. In fact, he yearns for it everytime now.

------ 𝕤𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕤𝕒 𝕜𝕚𝕪𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕚 ------

a/n: yeaa i kinda changed my layout and style so i hope it’s slightly better !! i’ll try to improve it as time goes by but this is not bad for now teehee. also feel free to send in requests, i’ll try to write them :) but yeaa hope you enjoyed it <3

#sakusa x reader #hq sakusa #sakusa imagines #sakusa scenarios #sakusa x you #sakusa fluff #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 3 years

Text

A Helping Hand Chp.1 - Din Djarin x f!reader

I hope you guys like this fic! Was a fun random idea I had spur in my mind one day ;) Rating: Mature Warnings: fluff, nudity, slight smut, eventual smut - shower sex but not lol Masterlist Chapter 2 AO3 link Join my taglist via here! He’s been gone for hours, almost a full day. You knew he’d be gone for awhile cause this sounded like a tough quarry but he’s smart and strong. This felt like longer than it should have been. The child was already fast asleep and tucked away in his pod so you were left to yourself until his return. You decided to go sit and read one of the novels your picked up along the way at a market to help pass the time. Not much time passed when you heard the hull’s door opening and heavy footsteps followed by heavy breathing coming in. The footsteps got closer and you saw Mando shaking, clutching his lower torso, breathing heavily. “Wh-what happened??” You ask as he drops to his knees. “Hurt. Bad. “Please put the quarry into the carbonite for me…” He replies slowly huffing for beath between words. You rush over and drag the quarry over to the carbonite. Hoisting it up into it’s chamber as best as you can, dead bodies aren’t light. Once it’s in the frame you slam your hand down on the button freezing it before rushing back over to Mando. “Where are you hurt?” You ask, inspecting him “Lower torso.” He replies, removing his hand and leaning against the wall. “Can you help me disinfect and bandage it?” You nodded running to the opposite side and pushing a button to open a small door in the wall that holds all your medical supplies. You grab the bandages, disinfecting supplies and for safety measures the cauterizer incase the wound is worse than he’s making it out to be. “I need you to remove your armor.” You say. He nods but groans as he goes to move. You can tell he’s sore from whatever fight was put up but also from the injury he sustained. “Do you need help?” You ask, not wanting him to strain himself anymore than need be. “Please…” He sighs. You work at removing his pauldrons, gauntlets, belts and chest piece, laying them beside you in a pile. “Okay, now let me look at this injury” You say as you lift up the bottom hem of his tunic. As you do you notice the injury is definitely worse than he made it out to be. It’s a big gash in his lower abdomen. It’s long, deep and bloody. “Um… Mando. This doesn’t look good. We may need to cauterize it closed…” You frown. Mando groans, not liking the idea but will do whatever you think is best. You first grab the disinfecting spray, shaking it and then spray it over the wound, clearing out any germs so he doesn’t get sick. Mando groans in response as it burns. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. “ You give in response, placing your hand on his forearm which is stretched across his knee. “I-it’s fine. It’s what needs to be done. Continue, please.” He huffs through pain. You next grab the medical rags and start dabbing gently at the wound, clearing any excess blood and spray. Once it’s cleaned up enough you sigh and look up at Mando. “Okay. I’m going to start to cauterize it closed… brace yourself.” He nods in response and you flip the switch to the cauterizer. It hums and starts to warm up. You hate using this thing cause it’s painful but if you want him to stop bleeding, get the wound fully fixed and him to feel better it’s what’s necessary. You sigh and bring the little machine down to his torso, slowly bringing it closer until it starts to zap the wound shut, leaving a scar in its tracks. Mando shakes and groans in pain as you do so, this wound it bigger than the ones he’s had in the past so it takes longer but you try to get it over with as quick as possible. Once you fully cauterize it closed you grab some ointment from the pile , rubbing it gently over the new scar to soothe the pain and make it heal easier, placing a bandage on top to keep it sealed off for a bit. “Okay. All done.” You say patting Mando’s arm gently.” “Th-thank you…” He replied “What happened that you got that?” You ask, scared of the answer. “Long story. But in short, there was more people there than expected and one caught me off guard, getting a good lunge at my side, as you saw.” “Oh... I’m sorry. Well, I am glad you got your quarry still and more importantly made it back safely so I could fix you up.” You say. He nods and starts to speak before stopping. “Um…” “Hm?” “I need to shower… get the dirt off me as well as any blood elsewhere from any knicks…” He trails off again. “Okay. Here let me help you up and I’ll get it started for you.” You reach your hands down to help pull him up. His hands grab onto yours and he plants his feet to help push himself up some so you aren’t stuck pulling all his bulky muscular weight. However, as you help pull him up he groans in response terrible and nearly collapses back down on your before catching himself. “What’s wrong?” You ask concerned. “It hurts… to move. Move anything. I... “ He sighs. “Maker, I hate to ask this cause I don’t want to put you into an awkward position but… do you think you could help me shower?” Your cheeks immediately go flush. Help Mando shower? You mean… see him… naked? Sure you most definitely won’t see his face but mostly everything else if not actually everything else? Maker, you suddenly feel hot. You know he can probably see the red spreading across your face, there’s no hiding it. “U-um…” You start to say unsure how to answer. “S-sure...” You finally say. He throws an arm around your shoulder to help balance himself before rotating himself to be side by side with you. You wrap one arm around his back to help support him and grab his hand over your shoulder with the other before you both start slowly walking over to the fresher room. You push the button to open it up and flip the switch on before helping Mando sit down on the closed toilet. “D-do you need help undressing or can you do it?” You ask shyly. Mando works at pulling his arms out of his tunic but groans in pain as he works to pull it over his head. Helmet in the way. “Shut your eyes quick.” He says You nod and do so. You hear the helmet clink as he sets it down on the sink, not long after hearing fabric rustle. He groans. “I… It hurts to lift my arms over my head. Help me pull this off.” You take a step closer to him, trying not to trip in your temporary blindness and reach your hands out until you feel his, you grab next to where they are placed. He removes his and let’s you do the rest. As you pull the tunic over his head you feel soft shaggy locks brush your fingers. Oh maker, his hair is so soft you think to yourself. You step back then to give him space, keeping your eyes shut. “You can open your eyes again.” He speaks. You open your eyes back up and see him still sitting where he was, helmet back on but not shirtless. You knew he had to be built but seeing him before you, you were in awe. He was strong looking and toned. His skin tanned and so soft looking minus a few scars scattering his body. You feel your cheeks getting flushed again at the sight of him before you quickly look down. “Do you need help removing your boots and pants as well?” You ask. “I’ll need help to get my boots off, it hurts to bend over.” He replies. You nod, crouching down working at undoing the leather pieces and armor on his legs before pulling his boots off. You look up at him waiting for his next move. You swear as he pulls his pants down and pushes them off with his feet he is making eye contact with you until you look away. He stands up, now in nothing but his underwear, grasping the sink for support. “Can you help me get to the shower?” He asks “Um sure… but…” You start to say. “I know. I… I’ll get there.” You nod in response and let him use your shoulder again for support as you trudge him over to the shower, opening the door and letting him step in. “Umm… If I am to help you shower I’ll need to get in there with you. But I don’t want to get all my clothes wet.” He looks at you not saying at word, waiting for you to either do as you said or continue your sentence. “B-but, I’m only going to remove my top and bottoms. Not my undergarments.” You chuckle nervously, waving your hands frantically. “Okay.” He says as you start to do so and then step in behind him shutting the door. He’s quiet, back towards you as he sighs deeply before working to pull down his underwear, tossing them to the corner. They’ll get soaked there but you don’t think he cares right now. You try to advert your eyes but can’t help to glance down and stare at his perfectly firm and round ass. Thank the maker his back is to you right now cause you know you are burning hot red right now. “I’ll turn on the water now okay. I know your helmet is okay to get wet but… don’t you need to wash your face?” You ask. “Yes. We’ll do that last. I have it figure out.” He says Once you have confirmation your turn the handle to the shower and water starts pouring down. It’s cold at first which makes you both jump but it quickly warms up. His back is still turned to you and he has his forearms propped up against the wall, bracing himself as best as he can. “I’m going to wash your back now okay?” You say as you lather the loofa up with soap. He steps away from the wall a bit and balances himself. You step up closer to him and place one hand on his left shoulder blade as you lather his back up with soap. He’s so warm feeling and man you can feel just how toned he is from this minor touch. You lather up his back from his shoulder blades to his lower back, stopping right at his butt. “Umm..” “Hm? What’s wrong?” He asks.“I need to wash…” You start to say. “You don’t need to say everything you are going to wash before you do it. Just do it. I understand. I am the one who asked you to help me do this after all.” He replies. “Right.” You say as you gulp and start to work the loofa down to his butt, crouching then to scrub the back of his legs as well. Maker, never would you think you’d be in this position but here you are… Mando’s perfect looking ass right in your face. Just when you think you get the red flush from your face to leave it comes right back. Once finished there you work your way back up to his shoulder blades, he towers over you so you have to stand on your tippy toes. You try not to bump into him but to get a good reach you have to lean into him slightly. You feel him tense up a bit as you press your chest to the middle of his back. “S-sorry.” You say, worry in your voice. “It’s okay. I’m not bothered.” He says. You tilt the shower head a bit to rinse off the soap lather from his back. “Okay. Your backside is done. Can you turn around so I can do your front?” You ask. Without a word he slowly turns himself around and places a hand on your shoulder to brace himself. You resoap up the loofa and start scrubbing at his chest, as you do so you go over each scar that scatter about. He has a good bit, most are small compared to the one he got today but still it makes you ache in your heart that he has so many. You finish scrubbing his chest and work on doing his arms, avoiding his lower front. You know you have to help him clean there but maker the thought it gets you all sort of flustered feeling. “D-do you want to wash… or?” “Um. C-can you? That is… if you’re comfortable. Sorry. I don’t want to move anymore than I need to. Pain…” He says stuttering over his words. “O-okay.” You say before looking down and seeing that he’s hard. O-oh. When did… Why is he… Thoughts start racing through your mind as your cheeks turn red again for the millionth time this evening. You slowly move you hand to start gently scrubbing but not long after you feel his arm wrap around your waist and pull you close into his chest. He’s hunched over a bit and breathing heavily into your neck. “M-mando…?” You ask. “S-sorry… I… Sorry.” He breathes, letting go of you. “I um… maybe let’s wash my face right now instead. I’m going to flip the light off.” He nods his head to the light pull above his head. “When I give you the go ahead, pull my helmet off for me?” “Um… okay.” You reply. He turns the light off and gives you the go ahead, groaning as he crouches down to sit on his knees so you can reach his face better. You grab the bottom of his and slowly pull it off before placing it down in the corner. Washing his hair and face in the dark is going to be hard. You don’t want to get soap in his mouth or eyes or accidentally poke your finger into his eyes. You grab the shampoo and squirt a drop into your hand before running it through his hair. Like you noticed before it’s soft and shaggy. You wonder what color it is. After you lather his hair up good with shampoo, you let it sit for a bit and gently wash his face with soap carefully but also take the time to notice his features. You can feel how he has a strong jaw and some scruff. You weren’t expecting him to have facial hair at all so it took you by surprise at first. Once he is all soaped up you grab the shower head from it’s hook and bring it down to rinse him off. You help him stand back up and go to grab his helmet back for him before he grabs you arm, pulling you back into him. “Huh? Mando… why did you grab me? I was trying to retrieve your helmet for you.” You say He has his head resting in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily again and his arm wrapped around your waist. You feel him hard against your backside and you gulp. “M-mando…?” You ask again. He stays silent for a few seconds, still holding you close before letting you go finally and taking a small step back. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… to do that…” He says, breathing still a bit heavy. “It’s okay but…” You reach down and grab his helmet, turning to face him then and place it in his hands. “Why?” You ask then. He takes the helmet from your hands and places hit back on his head, pulling the light back on. “Um.. “ He starts to say as he stands before you, leaning back against the wall, holding his wound from today. You turn the water off and stand before him, waiting for him to answer. “I’m sorry… I guess even through my pain. I got lost in the moment…let my feelings get the best of me” He says. “Feelings get the best of you?” You question. He nods. “Yes. Um… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I’ve become quite fond of you…” “F-fond of me?” You blink. “Mhm. I-I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable so I tried to hide it but…” He sighs. “Maybe this helping me shower wasn't a smart idea…” He looks down. You lift his helmeted head back up. “No no… it's okay! Um… I've actually grown quite fond of you too…” You smile up at him. “R-really?” He asks. You nod and continue to smile. “I-I'd like to be more intimate with you. As you saw... but.” He sighs and winces a bit. “Maybe now is not the best time… um that is if you also want to be…” You place a hand on his chest and look into his eyes, or at least where you think they are with the helmet in. “I'd like that too. But yes, now is not the best time. You need to rest and let your wound heal for now.” You say as you plant a small kiss on his helmets side. He stiffens up a bit at the response, not expecting that. Which stirs a giggle from you in response. “Let me step out and get you a towel to dry off. I'll get you fresh clothes then and help you to your bunker. ” He nods and waits as you step out to grab a towel off the wall, returning back to help him step out to stand in front of the door before you work at drying him off, wrapping the towel around his waist then. “Come on. Let's get you to the bunker.” You say as you hook your arm into his helping him trudge himself across the hill to the tiny space he calls his bunker. Not much of a sleeping space but he makes do with it. Once you get him to the bed you have him sit so he's not straining himself anymore than need be as you retrieve him a fresh pair of pants and tunic. You help him step into the pants but he denies the tunic .“I'll be okay without but, thank you.” He says. You nod and set it back in its drawer. “I’ll let you rest now okay? You need it.” “Wait…” He starts. “Hm?” You look at him “I know the bunker bed isn't very big but… stay with me? Tonight?” He says grabbing your hand in his. “Y-you want me to stay and sleep with you tonight?” You question. He nods, lightly tugging you closer to him, making you step closer to stand between his knees.“Please?” He asks, rubbing a thumb on your skin. “Of course.” You say. “Let me go change quick and I'll be back.” He nods, letting you go to change while he lays back and get situated in. You return and work your way into the small space without accidentally hurting him and settle yourself in next to him. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to his chest, before pushing the button to the door and light with his free hand. You sigh against his skin, he's so warm and comfortable. Maker, you've wanted to be like this with him for so long and now it's finally happening. As you are running through your happy thoughts you feel a pair of lips press a kiss against you forehead. He took his helmet off again? You smile, surprised he has removed it so much in front of you within such a small time frame. You may not see his face but still the gesture and thought warms you inside. “Once I am fully healed and not in pain I’d love to redo tonight with you.” He states, kissing your nose now. “Again, if you'd like.” You reach your hands up to cup his face. “Yes, of course I would.” You smile before kissing him on the lips. He smiles back, pressing a kiss back to your lips. “Then it’s settled.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #star wars #fanfic #ao3

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nakey-cats-take-bathsss · 4 years

Text

GRIFFIN GIRLS (a moment in the life): 2020

A short companion Drabble to Griffin Girls

2020 has brought a lot of weird changes to the little town of Polis. But while the world around them seems to be constantly moving, their little corner of the world will always feel like home.

“I’m so glad I came home for this,” Madi whispered, taking a red vine from the bag in Clarke’s purse.

“You say that as if you haven’t been home for the last six months,” Clarke teased, nudging her daughter’s side.

Madi rolled her eyes, pulling her mask just enough that she could slide the candy underneath.

“This is a spectacle,” Bellamy muttered, pulling Clarke into his side as he eyed the crowd wearily. Thelonius had a small group of people tucked behind a curtain, preparing for his first town meeting in six months.

They were spread out in the town square, the town hall too cramped to meet social distancing guidelines.

For the most part, everyone was adhering to the rules. Except for the town troubadour, who was staging a one man protest where he’d trapped himself inside a plastic bubble.

“As you know, we are in the middle of a pandemic!” Thelonius announced, emerging from behind the curtain to stand on top of an old milk crate. “I would just like to make a few reminders!”

“Wash your freaking hands and wear a mask!” Octavia yelled from the crowd, chucking a mini bottle of hand sanitizer at the troubadour’s bubble.

“Thank you Ms. Blake...now as I was saying. These are unprecedented times and I know that these rules can be a little difficult for you all to understand. Sooo I’ve commissioned the Polis High School drama club to provide us with a little demonstration,” Thelonius said, drawing back the curtain to reveal a group of teenagers all clad in costume.

“Oh my God,” Bellamy said and Octavia said in unison, both momentarily forgetting to keep his voice to a whisper.

“Shhh...this is the most exciting thing that’s happened in months,” Clarke scolded, swatting him with a red vine.

The demonstration as it turned out, involved a high school boy dressed as a germ and a giant roll of toilet paper.

“This is Oscar worthy…” Madi choked out, covering her laugh with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“We’re moving…” Bellamy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been great but I think it’s time to throw the entire town away.”

“You say that every time that Thelonius does something stupid. I should make one of those signs, ‘it’s been 0 days since Bellamy tried to leave this town’ and mark it with a little piece of chalk.”

Bellamy gave Clarke his best exasperated stare, hindered by the cover of his mask.

“Hey Blake, is the outdoor patio going to be open after this?” Jasper asked, leaning across the massive aisle.

“It isn’t a patio it’s literally a bunch of folding tables in the street.”

Jasper stared at him expectantly, waiting until Bellamy finally nodded yes before he pulled back to relay the news to Maya.

“You love it here,” Clarke said fondly, moving in for a kiss before she remembered her mask was in the way.

The teenagers wrapped up their play with a final musical number, throwing the crowd into enough chaos that Thelonius adjourned the meeting early.

“I’ll see you guys at home, I’d really rather not run into Jordan,” Madi whispered, squeezing her parents’ hands before she slipped into the crowd.

Clarke watched her go, a mess of dark hair sticking out even between a hundred people. Somehow, she blinked and her daughter was 20 years old. This was the longest she’d been home since high school—and global pandemic aside, the town felt a little more whole with her in it again.

Eventually, everyone went in their separate directions, leaving Bellamy and Clarke standing alone in the square.

“It’s nice to have her back isn't it?” Bellamy murmured, hugging her tightly.

“Makes me realize how big that old house is when it’s just the two of us,” Clarke agreed, leaning back into his chest.

They stood in silence for a while, staring out at the gazebo where they got married, the tree where they had their first kiss, the town that brought them together.

“I could never actually leave this place,” he admitted, unhooking his mask so he could kiss the top of her head.

“There is something missing though, isn’t there?” Clarke sighed, sinking into the embrace. It’d been on her mind for a while now, the idea of having more kids.

Sure, Madi was in college but Clarke was only 36–there was still time. Or they could even adopt. She wanted to have that with Bellamy, to be able to grow their family together.

He didn’t respond, just tilted her chin up kissing her soundly, in the same spot where they got married two years ago and where they’d fallen in love at the Christmas carnival almost a decade before that.

It was all the confirmation she needed.

“We should get to the diner…or should I say, the outdoor patio,” he said, pressing one last kiss to the tip of Clarke’s nose. “The sooner I get Jasper a piece of pie the sooner we can go home.”

“Hello, your wife would like a piece of pie too…” Clarke teased, kissing his nose before pulling his mask back up

They walked arm in arm back toward the diner, a cluster of customers already settled at the widely spaced tables. Thelonius had invested in rolling plexiglass dividers a few weeks ago and it was a great excuse for Bellamy to ignore people who were trying to get his attention to order coffee.

“You serve coffee, I’ll serve pie. Meet back here in fifteen minutes to make out in the store room,” Clarke said with a wink, tapping him gently on the butt as she picked up a tray of apple pie.

Bellamy watched her dip back out the door, unable to wipe the grin off his face. He loved her and by the grace of God, she loved him back.

Taking extra care to not touch the lip of the mugs, he followed her out. The crowd had only grown, backlit by the town’s string lights with the muffled crooning of the bubble clad troubadour filling the air.

Things may look different, and they may be a little scarier than he would’ve liked. But Clarke was right, he did love this town. And it was times like this that really made him understand how fortunate he was.

#bellarke #the 100 #bellamy x clarke #bellarke fic #bellarke fanfiction #romantic comedy fanfiction #au #blarke #griffin girls

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quarantinewithbean · 4 years

Text

Dirty vs. Clean

I think these terms are constantly consuming our minds at this point. At least, they are mine! I have always been a clean person, but this pandemic has brought my thoughts of contamination to a new level. When I get home from work, I take my shoes off outside of our house in our garage. I then walk into our entryway and set my bags on the ground, set my phone and keys on a table, take my coat off and hang up. I walk to the kitchen and get some disinfectant wipes and wipe down my phone, keys, bags, hang the bags, and wipe where everything was sitting. Wipe the door handles and light switches and anything else I may have touched. Then I throw the wipe away and wash my hands. Then I change my clothes. I also wipe down all hard surfaces, cupboard handles, railings, etc. in our house on a regular basis.

Any packages or mail are left out for a day to try and kill “dirty” virus germs that may be on them. And if we handle mail or a package, we are sure to wash our hands (for at least 20 seconds) when we are done.

Going to get groceries does not happen in person anymore as we get all groceries delivered. We put our order in ahead of time as we know it will take a few days, then we disinfect everything in our order and let it dry on the counter. Then we put it away, disinfect the counters, and wash our hands. God bless the Instacart delivery people who are in charge of shopping and bringing our groceries to us...we are sure to tip them well each time.

At work, I take even more steps to disinfect things. It’s almost distracting. Even though I am the only one who uses my office, I still wipe down my workstation with sanitizing wipes when i get in. Before eating lunch or snacks I wash my hands. I open any doors/microwave/fridge using a paper towel. As I think I’ve shared before, my office is in a small little building not attached to the main hospital and I typically only see 2-3 people when I go in, and all of whom are at least 6 feet away from me if I see them at all. I wash my hands just about every hour (as that is how often I’m having to pee now in my almost 7th month of pregnancy) and my hands are looking dry, cracked, and chapped. But at least they’re clean.

I feel like this invisible enemy is making me paranoid and I’m sure I’m not the only one! Even though I know it is the safest thing to do, I feel GUILTY assuming that any other person has the virus. It feels so abnormal. Every person I see I automatically think “Are they infected? Could they give this to myself and my baby?” It makes me feel judgy and I hate that feeling and pride myself on being the opposite! We aren’t even letting our family members come over to our house unless they have been completely isolating for at least 2 weeks, “just in case” they have been exposed to the virus. My dad has been building a crib for Bean and has been purposefully isolating himself from all other people so that he can drive it out to us safely and without exposing us - even putting off a carpentry job just so he can avoid being around others. Partway through his first attempt at isolation, he had to go into the clinic to have a procedure done, and started his isolation over. So he’s coming a week later. Because as we all know, if you are around one other person, you are essentially exposing yourself to the germs of EVERYONE they have been around, and we know people can shed/spread the virus before they are symptomatic, etc. etc. etc.

All of this is so much and so unpleasant to think about! I know it is necessary, but it is hard. It’s hard not to be social, not to give hugs, not to sit close to others, not to let friends and family touch my ever-growing bump. But I know it is for the best and won’t be forever.

I am VERY grateful that Aaron works from home and we don’t have to deal with him being exposed to anyone at an office. I’m also glad that we enjoy spending time with each other (still, somehow! lol). If you have someone to share this time in isolation with, consider yourself very lucky! It is so much harder for those who have no one else at home. Be sure you call and check on your loved ones who are all by themselves. I promise you they will be happy for the contact. Aaron and I have been doing some new fun things to beat the quarantine blues, including me teaching him how to play Mancala (my favorite childhood game), and watching a family of jackrabbits play in the field that is across the backyard from our house. They are ENORMOUS!! I knew that they were a mascot around here but was not aware of just how big they are in real life! We at first thought it was just a mom and dad and baby and named them Jack, Jill, and JoJo. Now we see that there are actually 3 little ones, so we have 2 more to name :) It is super fun to watch them tear across the field running after each other. I just cannot get over how big they are! We thought they were dogs or baby deer at first and then realized, nope...they are MegaBunnies. Aaron brought his rifle up so we could get a good look through his scope when we watch them. I also just ordered some binoculars online so we can have a better way of viewing them instead of having to hold up that rifle :)

I had my prayers answered this week when my supervisors and senior leadership approved my work from home request! I honestly never thought it would happen as they have not allowed hardly anyone to do so, but they made an exception for me because of my pregnancy AND because I already see the majority of my caseload using video/telehealth. I will still need to be in my office on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, but am not expected to go over to the hospital for in-person visits anymore and can just hide out in my safe little office sanctuary and see patients from my computer. This will drastically reduce the number of people I see on a daily basis as well as the number of potential exposures for Bean and I. We set up an area in the spare bedroom downstairs that is a perfect, private, quiet space for my workday. I even have a cute little coworker/sidekick that keeps me company when I’m not in session (see pic at the end of this post).

I can’t believe I will be getting into my 7th month of pregnancy this weekend! Things that are getting harder for me are: putting on socks/shoes, wearing pants, shaving my legs, dealing with heartburn, getting in a comfortable position to sleep in (and sleeping in general, which is weird as I’ve never had that issue before!), sitting up from laying down, and dealing with having to go to pee about every 5 minutes. Also, not sure if other people who have gone through pregnancy have had this, but it feels like I have to pee mainly when I stand up and not when I sit down. So I stand up, run to the bathroom, sit, and then feel like I don’t have to go anymore. LOL! Like, JUST KIDDING! I know that my doc says that is normal due to the pressure that baby is putting on my bladder and gravity but, man, it’s annoying.

I have my next checkup on Monday and will be going solo as the hospital I go to is now requiring patients to come alone unless under the age of 18 to stop potential COVID spread. Aaron has been with me at nearly every appointment so this will be a change. For my 32 week ultrasound I will Facetime him in so he can see Bean - and we always get printouts of babe from those appointments, too. I only have 2 in-person appointments left, one on Monday and then my 32 week, and all other appointments will be via telehealth. Thankfully we are not in an area of the country where they have outlawed spouses from accompanying mothers during birth - both hospitals here have vowed not to do so at any point in the future, either. It is just crazy to me that some places have done that!! I can’t imagine having to go through labor without my husband there. Although things have definitely looked differently for me during this pregnancy than I ever thought they would, I am just focusing on the fact that as long as myself, family (including Bean), and loved ones make it through this pandemic OK, I will be very very happy.

I hope you are all staying happy and healthy!

xoxo - Miranda

My cute little coworker. Don’t mind the floors, we have to redo them...

Taking a 6+ foot social distance walk with my mom, complete with masks.

There’s me wearing my mask and shield that I needed to wear in the hospital before they allowed me to work from home. I wanted a pic to show Bean someday the crazy time that preceded his/her birth!

The crib my dad has made for Bean!!

Aaron watching the MegaBunnies using his scope :)

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ofendlesswonder · 6 years

Note

10, SuperCat please

10. I’m so happy you’re alive.

This is also posted on ao3, because apparently I have not lost the skill of being able to turn a five word prompt into something that is definitely longer than a drabble.

Set at the start of s2, with the usual assumptions applied - no Mon-Hell, Cat didn’t leave, etc.

Supergirl falls from the sky, and the world fallsout from underneath Cat’s feet.

She’s in her office when it happens, pacingin-front of her desk in the middle of a meeting.

It’s nothing, at first – just one screenflickering with grainy cellphone footage of an alien involved in an altercationdowntown – and Cat thinks nothing of it as she turns on her heel and continuesher tirade.

A few moments later two screens show the flutterof a red cape as Supergirl arrives on the scene, and Cat thinks it’ll bebusiness as usual – there’ll be a fight, the alien will be caught, andSupergirl will triumph, coming home to Cat later that evening, if a littlebattered and bruised.

Their relationship is still new, just a few weeksold, had happened shortly after Kara’s promotion to reporter when the powerdynamics between them hadn’t been quite so extreme and neither of them had beenable to ignore the simmering attraction between them for any longer.

It’s new, and no-one knows yet, save for Carter –they’d wanted some time to figure things out for themselves before tellingother people – and Cat doesn’t think she’s ever been so happy.

It’s hard, though, dating a superhero.

And not just because it keeps Kara so damn busy.

It’s more than that – it’s having to deal withthe person you care about regularly putting themselves in danger, knowing thatone day they might not come home, having to suffer through every kick and punchwhen the battles are caught on camera, and not knowing what the outcome willbe.

Today, it isn’t business as usual.

Because Kara looks out of her depth, out there onthose screens (on all of them now, the battle dragging on and capturing theattention of everyone in the office, Cat’s meeting abandoned as her employeesgather in-front of the screens, watching with baited breath as the city’s herotakes a beating), her face bloodied and bruised, and when her opponent deliversanother blow, it’s hard enough to knock her from the sky and send her crashingdown to the street below.

The office is silent as everyone holds theirbreath, waiting for Supergirl to rise back into the air and finish things.

But she never does.

Cat watches as a figure dressed all in blackdarts into view on the screen, can see the tension in the woman’s shoulders andeven though they’ve never officially met she recognises Alex Danvers as shedashes towards her fallen sister.

Alex is followed a moment later by several othersbefore the screens go black, presumably due to DEO interference, and Cat feelssick because she knows they wouldn’t do that unless they had a damn goodreason.

Cat forces herself to turn away, catches the eyeof a very pale James Olsen and watches as he raises his phone to his ear withtrembling fingers before disappearing from view. Cat is desperate to go afterhim, to find out what’s happening, but she knows she can’t, has to keep herselftogether especially now, with her office so crowded.

Instead, she takes a breath and snaps at them allto get back to work, even though she knows she won’t be getting anything doneherself for the rest of the day, not until she knows that Kara’s okay.

She tries calling Kara’s phone, even as she knowsit’s useless.

She calls and calls and calls, but no-one everpicks up.

She keeps an eye on the news coverage, too,in-case anyone had captured footage of Supergirl being taken away, or somehow,miraculously escaping unscathed.

Cat can barely believe her luck when, just a fewhours later, Supergirl appears on-screen again, stopping a robbery downtown.

The office cheers at the sight of her, but Catnotices James, waiting for something at the printer with deep lines around hiseyes and a dark expression on his face, barely even glance towards the screen,and something tells Cat that whoever it is, flying through the sky in red andblue, that it’s not the woman she’s falling in love with.

Her relief fades to panic, because the onlyreason to employ a Supergirl double to convince the city that she’s alive andwell would be if the woman herself wasn’t going to be able to anytime in theforeseeable future.

The thought leaves her cold, and she calls Karaonce more.

It goes straight to voicemail.

Later that day when she leaves the office, Cattells her driver to take a detour.

She goes to Kara’s apartment building, rushes outof the car before it’s even fully stopped, all but runs inside and up thestairs, and is out of breath by the time she reaches Kara’s door.

She knocks, but no-one answers.

She waits a few minutes, and when there’s stillno answer she reaches for her purse, grabs a rarely used bobby pin and doessomething she hasn’t done in a long, long time – she picks the lock.

It’s just as easy as she remembers, and sheglances over her shoulder to check there’s no-one watching before she opens thedoor and slips inside.

It’s empty, and it looks like Kara left in a hurrythat morning – there’s a coffee cup waiting to be washed by the sink, anunfolded pair of pyjamas lying on the floor next to an unmade bed, a notebookwith a few hastily scrawled notes lying open on the sofa.

Cat almost expects Kara to come swooping throughthe window at any moment, imagines the confusion that would be on her face atfinding Cat inside her home, the way she’d laugh in delight when she found outthat Cat was an expert when it came to breaking and entering.

It makes her heart ache, and Cat wonders ifshe’ll ever see Kara again and chokes back a sob, tells herself to keep ittogether until she knows for sure how bad things are – vows to find out forherself in the morning.

She takes one last look around the apartmentbefore she leaves, heading back to her own place and the welcome distractionthat she knows Carter will provide.

Cat barely sleeps that night, gets to work almostan hour earlier than she normally would, and all but pounces on James Olsenwhen he walks through the door, summoning him into her office with a mere look.

“Everything alright?” He asks, looking wary, andCat scrutinises him for a long moment, trying to gauge his emotions – hedoesn’t look like he’s grieving, and Cat takes some small comfort in that,because it means that Kara must still be alive.

“How is she? Supergirl? After the fightyesterday?”

“Oh.” James looks surprised by the question,blinks a couple of times before he forces a smile. “Well, you saw her dealingwith that robbery last night, she’s fine. That other fight just looked a lotworse than it actually was.” He’s lying, Cat can tell, but she doesn’t call himout on it, lets him think she’s reassured.

“Glad to hear it.” Her smile is tight, and shewonders if he notices. “Do you know what time Kara will be in today? I need totalk to her about something.” She asks because she expects him to tell her thatKara’s called in sick, but she doesn’t get the answer she’s expecting.

“I’m pretty sure she’s already in hernot-so-secret office.” Cat’s heart leaps, but she tries not to show it, simplydismisses James with a nod and waits for him to leave before she makes abeeline for Kara’s office.

Logically, she knows that she’s not going to findwhat she wants there – Kara would have never ignored her calls if there wasnothing wrong – but she can’t stop the bloom of hope that springs up in herchest.

Her heart stutters when she opens Kara’s officedoor and finds her sitting behind her desk, her hair scraped into her signatureponytail and glasses perched on her nose, wearing a blue blouse that Cat’snever seen her in before.

“Kara,” she breathes, taking a hesitant steptowards the other woman and letting the door shut behind her. “You’re okay.”

“Of course I’m okay, Miss Grant. Why wouldn’t Ibe?” The words, along with the little frown of confusion on Kara’s face, arelike a bucket of cold water over her head, draining her hope away because this,this stranger staring at her through Kara’s blue, blue eyes… this isn’t Kara.

This is whatever imposter was flying aroundNational City last night draped in a cape that didn’t belong to them.

This wasn’t herKara.

A look crosses not-Kara’s face that Cat can’tdecipher before it’s smoothed away, and she opens her mouth to say somethingbut Cat cuts her off with a wave of her hand, forcing a smile that she knowsdoesn’t reach her eyes.

“I noticed you weren’t around yesterday afternoon– Snapper said you weren’t feeling well,” Cat lies. “Just wanted to check youweren’t spreading your germs around my bullpen.”

With that Cat turns on her heel and leaves,stalking back to her office and wondering what the hell she’s going to do now.

She checks her phone but Kara still hasn’tcalled, and she’s all set to dust off her investigative skills and find outwhere the mysterious DEO base that Kara’s mentioned a couple of times islocated before Eve waves her down with an emergency at the Tribune that Catcan’t ignore.

She’s just finishing up when a dark shadowappears across her desk, and there’s a pointed barb on her tongue aboutinterrupting her without an appointment that dies on her lips when she glancesup into the face of none other than Alex Danvers.

She looks furious,her jaw tight and her eyes dark and hard, intimidating in her DEO gear andthere’s an FBI badge in her hand that she’d no doubt waved in order to make herway into Cat’s office without being challenged.

Over Alex’s shoulder, Cat sees the Kara imposterhovering in the doorway, and every single pair of eyes in the bullpen lookinginto her office.

Cat supposes that her employees thinking she’sunder investigation from the FBI will be worth it if she finally gets heranswers about Kara.

“Shall we talk somewhere more private?” Catsuggests, and for a moment she thinks Alex is going to disagree before she nodscurtly and motions for Cat to lead the way.

She does, rising to her feet and stepping ontoher balcony, sliding the door firmly shut after Alex and not-Kara follow herout into the warm morning air.

“How long have you been sleeping with my sister?”Alex asks as soon as the door closes, whirling towards Cat in a cloud of angerthat almost makes her take a step back.

“I don’t know what you’re - ”

“Don’t lie to me,” Alex hisses, before shereaches out and presses Cat back against the wall, hard enough to make herwince. Alex leans her weight against her, strong and solid, her eyes wild, andCat thinks she’s probably lucky that there isn’t a hand wrapped around herthroat.

“Alex.” Not-Kara appears at Alex’s elbow, awarning note in her voice and Cat hates it, turns towards the imposter with hermost venomous glare.

“Stop using her voice,” she snaps, words drippingwith poison, and both Alex and the imposter look taken aback. “And her face.You don’t deserve to wear it.”

“Very well.” Alex releases her hold as theimposter steps away, and Cat blinks when Kara’s form transforms into a verydifferent one. “J’onn J’onzz.”

“You were here the night that Livewire attackedme,” Cat remembers. “You’re an alien, too?” He nods. “Are - ”

“You don’t get to ask question when you stillhaven’t answered mine,” Alex interrupts angrily. “You and my sister. How.Long.” The question is spat through gritted teeth, and Cat gets the impressionthat it’s going to take her a very long time to win over the sister.

“A few weeks,” Cat replies, pushing herself awayfrom the wall she’d been backed against and dropping onto one of her outdoorsofas. Alex follows behind her like a shadow, like she’s afraid that Cat issomehow going to disappear.

“And I suppose it was your idea to keep it asecret? Didn’t want anyone finding out you were dipping your pen in the companyink? Dating a lowly reporter?” Alex’s tone is acidic, and Cat wonders just howmany stories Alex had heard from her sister about Cat being an impossible bosswhen Kara was her assistant.

She feels a twinge of regret, like she alwaysdoes whenever she thinks back to those days, but it had been her way of keepingKara at arm’s length, at stopping herself falling too far and doing somethingstupid like jeopardising both of their careers.

And she’s remorseful about their past, has sinceapologised profusely for it, and Kara had forgiven her – she didn’t owe AlexDanvers any of that.

“It was a mutual decision,” Cat replies coldly,staring Alex dead in the eye. “We both decidedto keep things quiet while it was new. Maybe Kara was afraid how herjudgemental sister would react.” Alex’s lips curl into a sneer, and Cat swears that one of her hands jumpstowards the gun at her hip, but the motion’s stopped by J’onn as he settles ahand heavily on Alex’s shoulder.

Cat wonders if he’s holding Alex against the seatso she doesn’t lunge towards her.

“Ladies, I don’t think Kara would be very happyif she knew the two of you were at each other’s throats,” J’onn reasons, andCat feels a flash of guilt as Alex looks contrite. “She’d want you to getalong.”

“Is she still alive?” Cat finally voices thequestion she’s been too scared to ask, and Cat doesn’t take another breathuntil Alex gives a curt nod.

“Barely, but yeah, she’s hanging in there.” Itdoesn’t fill her with as much relief as she’d like, because Kara’s clearly notout of the woods yet, but at least she’s still breathing.

“Can I see her?”

“That depends.” Alex stares at Cat for one longmoment, sizing her up. “You gonna out her as Supergirl?”

“Oh, please,” Cat rolls her eyes. “I’ve known shewas Supergirl since practically the moment she put on that cape. If I didn’texpose her then, I’m sure as hell not going to do it now that I’m dating her.”

“Why not? Dating a superhero’s sure to get you onthe front page, and we all know how much you like the limelight.” She knowsthat Alex is merely pushing for a reaction, but Cat still bristles at thewords.

“Your sister is more important to me than beingon the front page,” Cat scoffs. “And contrary to what you might believe – I’mnot an idiot. I know that dating Supergirl publically would put a target on notonly my back, but my son’s, too. If you don’t believe that I’d do anything toprotect Kara, know that I would do anything to protect him.”

“I believe you,” Alex says, after a few momentsof loaded silence. “But if, for whatever reason, you have a change of heart –you won’t live to regret it.” Alex’s smile is sickly sweet, but Cat knows thatshe means the threat beneath it.

“So can I see her?”

“Come with me.” Cat goes, holding her head uphigh as she goes, whispering to Eve on the way past to cancel everything forthe rest of the day and to tell James that he’s temporarily in charge, andignoring the curious eyes of her employees as she follows Alex to the elevator.

On the street below she’s bundled into the backof a van, and mutters angrily about the indignity of it all as Alex and J’onnsettle in on either side of her, a nameless third agent pulling onto the roadas soon as the door shuts behind them.

“I feel like I’m being kidnapped.”

“Just be glad we didn’t blindfold you,” Alexshoots back, and Cat has to bite her tongue to stop herself snapping at theother woman.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Alex mutters, and asshe runs a tired hand through her hair Cat gets a glimpse of the woman beneaththe government agent persona she wears like a shield. She sees a woman worriedsick about her little sister, sees a woman who feels like she’s failed her sister, a woman who probablywon’t sleep until Kara wakes up, who resents having to leave Kara’s side tocome and deal with Cat.

“How did you know? That Kara and I weretogether?” She supposes it could have been the dozens of phonecalls, or maybethey knew that Cat had visited Kara’s apartment last night, but it was quite ajump from that to figuring out they were in a relationship.

“He can read minds,” she Alex replies, stabbing athumb in J’onn’s direction, who looks a little sheepish.

“He can what?”Cat interrupts, eyes widening and anger coiling in her stomach. “You read mymind? Without my permission? That’s a gross invasion of privacy, practically a violation how dare you - ”

“In my defence,” J’onn interrupts weakly, puttinghis palms up, “I didn’t mean to. Butyou were projecting your emotions so strongly that it… well, it was impossiblefor me not to catch a glimpse and once I did and learned of your connection toKara… I had to dig a little deeper, find out what you knew. For her protection.”Cat is stunned, feels sick at the thought of someone rooting around in herbrain, rifling through her thoughts, tainting the private memories that she andKara shared. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.” His voice is soft, and he does look apologetic. “And I’m sorryabout the interrogation, too. I know that you care for her deeply.”

“I just wasn’t so sure,” Alex adds. “I wanted tosee it for myself, see how the woman who treated my little sister like dirt fortwo years could turn into someone she wanted to be with.” Cat winces, but shedoesn’t deny it, knows she can’t.

“And what didyou see?” Cat asks, curious, even though a part of her is afraid of the answer,knows that Alex’s opinion of her will matter, somewhere down the line, even ifKara has forgiven her.

Alex studies Cat for a long moment before shereplies.

“I saw someone trying to pretend that she wasfine, but below the surface was absolutely terrified. I saw someone whocouldn’t sleep last night because she worried about my sister, worried enoughto call her thirty times, who knows her well enough to realise when she’s notherself, who cares about her and would do anything to protect her. And I… I’mglad she has that. So don’t fuck it up.”

“Or I won’t live to see another day?”

“Something like that,” Alex smirks, and Catdoesn’t remember the last time she ever felt intimidated by anyone, but AlexDanvers is getting pretty close.

The car pulls to a stop then, and Cat climbs outinto a parking garage and is quickly led to a nearby elevator.

“Am I allowed to know where I am?”

“Nope.” Alex leans one shoulder against the wallas they whizz up the floors.

“What if I want to visit Kara?”

“I’ll come kidnap you again.”

“How charming.” Out of the corner of her eye, shesees J’onn’s lips twitch in amusement. The elevator doors ding open a momentlater, and Alex grips Cat’s arm and pulls her close.

“If anything about this facility ends up in thenext issue of the Trib - ”

“You’ll make my life a living hell, smother me inmy sleep, yadda yadda yadda,” Cat yanks her arm out of Alex’s grip, and theagent looks impressed by her strength. “I got the memo. I’m here as Kara’sgirlfriend, not a reporter.”

Alex looks pleased by the answer, nods to herselfbefore stepping out onto the bustling floor, and Cat follows close behind her,ignoring the curious looks that get thrown their way.

Cat tries not to look around too much, lest Alexaccuse her of gathering intel, keeps her gaze focused solely on Alex’s back.She’s led through a set of doors and the noise dies down, the air smellingsterile, and she risks a glance around her to see that they’re in what looks tobe a medical bay.

“Kara’s in there.” Alex tilts her head towardsthe door they’re standing in-front of. “Before you go in, you should know… shedoesn’t look great. She’s broken and she’s bruised and she looks worse thanyou’ve ever seen her look before. We’ve got her under a sun lamp to try andhelp her recover, so you can’t really touch her, but you can talk to her, lether know that you’re here. She might be so shocked I let you in that she’ll wakeright up.” Cat manages a faint smile, and Alex reaches out to squeeze her hand.“It looks bad, and it is bad, butshe’s gonna pull through. She’s strong.”

“The strongest person I know.”

“You ready?” Cat nods, and Alex presses the dooropen to let Cat step inside. Her breath catches when she sees Kara, lying stillon the hospital bed within, the only sign that she’s alive the slow rise andfall of her chest and the rhythmic beeping of the machine she’s hooked up to.Even under the yellow light she looks pale and sickly, half her face covered byblack and blue bruises.

“Oh, Kara.” She’s so preoccupied by Kara’s frailform that she doesn’t even notice that there’s another woman in the roomsitting at Kara’s bedside, and as she turns at the sound of the door Catrecognises Kara’s foster mother.

“Mom, I didn’t realise you were here already.”

“Kal-El came to get me,” Eliza replies, eyeingCat warily. “He just left.”

“You remember Cat Grant, right?” Alex asks,nudging Cat forward.

“Of course I do,” Eliza nods, eyebrows pullinginto a frown. “But that doesn’t explain what she’s doing here.”

“She and Kara are…”

“In a relationship,” Cat supplies, because she’snot entirely sure what Alex is going to end that sentence with. Eliza’s eyeswiden in surprise, and Cat sighs. “This isn’t exactly how I imagined the wholefamily finding out.”

“It’s not how I imagined I’d meet my daughter’sfirst girlfriend, either,” Eliza says, after she’s gotten over the shock. “Butwe can talk later. I’m sure you’d like to spend some time with her.” Cat nods,and Eliza climbs to her feet. “Alex and I will be outside if you need anything.”

The door opens and shuts, and Cat’s left alone,the room silent aside from the machines.

She makes her way over to Kara on unsteady legs,sinks down onto the chair Eliza had just vacated, and lets out a long breath asshe takes in the sight of her half-dead girlfriend.

It’s shocking, to see her like this – Kara isalways so animated, so full of life, always moving even if she was justfiddling with her glasses or her hands.

But now she’s so still, so quiet, so far away from the woman Cat knows that it shakes her tothe core.

She’d known Kara was in a bad way but to see it, to see her like this… it’ssomething else entirely.

Kara’s hand lies outside the glow of the sunlamp, and Cat reaches out to take it between her own, fingers shaking as sheruns her thumb across Kara’s skin.

She’s warm, at least, and the steady beat of herpulse in her wrist reassures Cat that she’s still fighting.

“I don’t ever want you to scare me like thisagain,” Cat tells her, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. “Do youhear me? You need to be careful,Kara, because I can’t… I can’t lose you. It’s taken us so long to get to wherewe are today, to have that snatched away before we even get started? That’s cruel,Kara. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? Although I suppose you could say Ideserve it.” She sighs, and squeezes Kara’s hand gently between her own. “ThatI don’t deserve you, because god, Kara, I don’t. You’re a better person than I’llever be, but for some god unknown reason you want me, and I’m not letting yougo.”

Her gaze rests on Kara’s face, her eyes closedand she’d look almost peaceful, if not for the bruises. Cat wants to kiss eachand every one of them away.

“So you’d better come back to me, Kara Zor-El. BecauseI don’t know how to do this without you, not now. Not now that I know what wecould have. That I could fall in love again.” Her voice cracks, and the tearsstart to fall, building faster than she can wipe them away.

It’s unimaginable, the thought of losing her. It’sonly been a few weeks, but it’s been the happiest few weeks of her life, andKara has been a part of her life for so much longer than that, and Cat honestlydoesn’t know what she’d do without her.

She doesn’t ever want to find out.

She sits there a while longer, until the tearshave dried on her cheeks, until she can’t stand to see Kara looking so ill foranother second.

In the hallway outside, Alex is asleep on Eliza’sshoulder, and the elder woman smiles up at Cat as she closes the door to Kara’sroom quietly behind her.

“I hope Alex wasn’t too hard on you earlier,”Eliza whispers. “She’s a little protective of Kara. Always has been.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Cat’s never beengood at the meet-the-parents stage of a relationship, not when the one sheshares with her own mother is so strained, and she feels uncharacteristicallynervous as Eliza looks up at her. “Could you thank her, when she wakes up? Forbringing me here?”

“Of course.” Cat tucks her hands into the pocketsof her jacket and wonders if she needs an escort to get out of the building aswell as in. “I know we’re not meeting under the best of circumstances, but I’mglad that Kara’s found someone.”

“Even if I’m old enough to be her mother?”

“Age is just a number,” Eliza shrugs, careful notto wake her sleeping daughter. “As long as she’s happy, I’m happy. And I’d loveto have you over for dinner, once she’s feeling better.”

“I’d like that.” Cat manages a small smile at thethought.

“Oh, before I forget, Alex wanted me to give youthese.” Eliza hands Cat a lanyard and a post-it with GPS co-ordinates scribbledon it. “A visitor pass, so you can come and go whenever you please, at leastwhile Kara’s recovering. And the address.” Cat feels a rush of gratitude, feelsmore tears gather in her eyes and blinks them hastily away. “Come back wheneveryou like.”

“Thank you.”

Cat visits at least once a day.

Sometimes twice – once in the morning before shegoes to the office, and always after she’s finished for the day. Sometimes shebrings her tablet and carries on working, talking to Kara as she does, drawingcomfort from just being close to her.

Every day, the bruises fade a little more, brokenbones start to set, and pale skin gains a little more colour.

It’s an agonisingly slow recovery for someone whoshould be unbreakable, but at least she’s getting better.

That’s what Cat tells herself, anyway, when the tearsthreaten to overwhelm her as she looks down at Kara’s motionless body.

That with every passing day, Kara grows stronger,heals more, and is one step closer to opening her eyes.

It takes nearly two weeks, but eventually ithappens.

It’s two a.m., and Cat’s in a fitful sleep (she hasn’tslept through the night since the day Kara fell from the sky, sees it everynight in her dreams, knows she won’t be able to truly rest until the otherwoman is curled up in bed beside her) when her phone rings.

She groans as she runs a hand over her face,reaching for her phone and looking at the screen with bleary eyes.

When she sees that it’s Alex calling she sitsbolt upright in bed, because Alex wouldn’t call unless it was serious, unlesssomething was wrong, and no, no, no,it’s not possible for Kara to slip away in the middle of the night, not aftershe’d spent so long fighting against it.

“Alex?” Cat’s voice is strangled, tight withworry. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Cat.” Cat hears the sheerrelief in the other woman’s voice, the underlying note of happiness, and forthe first time in days, feels a twinge of hope. “She’s awake.” Cat presses a hand against her lips to smother asob, overwhelmed by the flood of emotion that rushes through her at the words. “And she’s asking for you.”

“I’m on my way.”

“I already sent a car for you,” Alex says, and Cat isfilled with gratitude for the other woman – they’d spent a lot of time togetherover the last two weeks, and had formed an unlikely almost-friendship over thehours spent at Kara’s beside. “It shouldbe there in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you.” She pulls on the first clothes shecan find, puts on the minimum amount of makeup she feels comfortable leavingthe house in and runs a brush through her tangled hair before dashing for theelevator.

It takes what feels like an eternity to arrive,and the wait as it descends, floors ticking by one by one, is unbearable.

The car isn’t there when she reaches thesidewalk, and she taps her foot impatiently as she waits, barely letting itpull over before she’s tugging at the door.

It isn’t a long drive to the DEO’s city headquarters,but it feels like forever, and Cat is practically vibrating with the need tomove by the time they get there, rushes away as soon as they’ve come to a stop.

She’s breathless by the time she reaches Kara’sroom, steps through the open door and the only thing she sees is blue, blueeyes that crinkle in the corners when she meets Cat’s gaze, Kara’s smile sowide and so bright and so alive thatCat nearly starts crying again.

Instead she flings herself at Kara, ignoring theother people in the room (Alex and Eliza and J’onn), wrapping her in a hug andburying her face in Kara’s shoulder.

“Ouch,” Kara says but she’s laughing, and herarms wrap around Cat’s back to bring her close. “Kinda fragile here, you know.”

“Sorry,” Cat replies, even though she’s anythingbut, and she leans back and cups Kara’s cheek, eyes scanning across her faceand assessing the damage.

Kara looks surprisingly chipper for someone who’sbeen in a coma for two weeks, her cheeks red and her eyes bright, and Cat’sfilled with more relief than she knows what to do with.

“I’m so happy you’re alive,” she whispers, thumbtracing Kara’s cheekbone, “but if you ever do anything like that to me again I’mgoing to kill you.” Kara grins, and it’s so beautiful that it makes Cat’s heartache, and she knows that she’d missed Kara but she had no idea how much, not until she had Kara in her armsagain, so soft but strong and awake.

“I’m not planning on it,” Kara tells her, armstill slung around Cat’s back, keeping her close. “Trust me. I feel like I gothit by a train.”

“Actually,” Alex pipes up, arms folded across herchest as she leans her hip against Kara’s bed, looking more relaxed than Cathas ever seen her, “judging from the extent of your injuries, you probably gothit by the equivalent of about ten trains.”

“Gee, thanks, Alex.”

“You’re welcome.”

“There’s no lasting damage, is there?” Cat asks,because she knew they were waiting for Kara to wake up before they could reallyassess her injuries.

“Doesn’t seem to be,” Alex answers. “We won’t knowfor sure for another couple of days, but for now things are looking good.” Alexreaches out to squeeze Kara’s leg. “You were lucky.”

“None of you are ever going to let me out in thefield again, are you?”

“Not until you’re healed,” they all say at the sametime, and it’s the first time Cat has heard laughter echo around this room.

“Besides, J’onn’s loving putting on a skirt andflying around the city, aren’t you, J’onn?” He looks thoroughly unimpressed byAlex’s teasing. “See, look at that face. Loves it.”

“Did it haveto be a skirt, Kara?” He asks with a sigh. “Why couldn’t it be pants?”

“Hey, take it up with Winn, not me. He designedit.” J’onn grumbles to himself before making his excuses to leave, biding themall goodnight as he goes.

“We should probably get some rest too, Mom,” Alexsays when he’s gone. “Give these two some time to catch up.”

When they’re alone, Kara shifts in the bed sothere’s space beside her, tugs at Cat until she’s lying carefully next to her.Cat rests her head on Kara’s chest and wraps an arm around her waist, justbreathing her in, and doesn’t realise she’s crying until Kara gently tilts herhead up and swipes away her tears with her thumb.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just… I can’t believe you’re awake.” Shesniffs, and hopes Kara doesn’t think she’s pathetic. “I really thought I wasgoing to lose you.”

“But you didn’t,” Kara is quick to reassure her,taking one of Cat’s hands and resting it over her heart. “See? Still here. Notgoing anywhere if it involves being away from you.” Kara’s heartbeat is steady,familiar, and Cat draws comfort from it.

“Are you in pain?”

“Only a little. It’s not so bad.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Having you here makes it better.” Kara pulls Catclose, presses a kiss against her lips that’s achingly gentle. “Can you stay?”

“If you want me to.”

“Carter?”

“He’s at his father’s.” Kara hums, and Cat shiftsso that they’re face to face, pressing her forehead against Kara’s.

“Speaking of family…” Kara trails off, and Cathears her swallow. “You met my sister and my foster Mom like, officially? Howwas that? Cause I know we were supposed to be taking things slow, and no-onewas supposed to know, and I guess I messed that up, but – why are you smilingat me like that?”

“Because I’ve missed this.”

“Missed what?”

“Your nervous rambling.” Kara pouts, and Catwipes it away with a kiss. “Your sister threatened to murder me if I ever hurtyou, but aside from that, it was fine. I think we’re friends now. And Elizawants to have me over for dinner.”

“So you charmed the whole family, huh?”

“I am verycharming.” Kara grins before kissing her again until they’re both breathless. Whenthey part Kara’s eyes stay closed, and Cat pokes her in the side until sheopens them. “You have been asleep for two weeks – you can’t seriously be tired.”

“I need to rest!” Kara protests, and Cat laughsas she settles down beside her. “And so do you. Alex told me you’ve beenworried sick about me, hardly sleeping.”

“I couldn’t stop seeing it, whenever I closed myeyes. You falling.”

“But I’m okay. I’m okay, and I’m right here.” Karashifts, pushing at Cat’s hip until she rolls over before pulling Cat’s backagainst her chest and slinging an arm around her waist to hold her close. “I’mnot going anywhere,” she says it again, with a soft kiss to Cat’s shoulder. “Ipromise.” Kara’s breath is warm against her ear, soft and even, and Cat canfeel the other woman’s heartbeat against her back, strong and steady, and she closesher eyes.

There, in that tiny hospital bed with the lumpymattress, wrapped Kara’s arms, Cat has the best night’s sleep she can rememberhaving in a long, long time.

#supercat #supercat:fanfic #good lORD this is long #happy belated birthday again!#i hope you enjoy #kasadilla11

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get-fcking-reddie · 6 years

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Give You Hell

Pairing: Reddie (Main), Stenbrough (Side), Benverly (Side)

Warning: a little angsty, some inernalized homophobia, some fluff? I don’t know yet.

Summary: When Richie Tozier moves into the apartment across from Eddie’s, they nearly start a war. Richie keeps Eddie up at night and Eddie keeps Richie up in the morning. If only they got to know each other, they’d realize they’re actually not that different.

Inspired by the song Give you Hell by the All-American Rejects

Taglist: @princesschelliebelle

Eddie has always been a good neighbor, it was something he prided himself on. He knew everyone in his small apartment building. If someone needed a cat sitter, or someone to get the mail, or water the plants, Eddie was the first one they called. But, out of all his neighbors he was closest to Mrs Anderson who lived in the apartment opposite his. Every week, he would do her groceries and as a reward she’d make him tea and bake him cookies. He loved going over to Mrs Anderson who with her genuine motherly warmth reminded him somewhat of his own mother, although far less intrusive and manipulating. Perhaps she was what a mother was supposed to be like.

It is needless to say that Eddie was sad to see her go, and even more sad to see the apartment filled again less than a week later. To make matters worse the new tenant had a doormat that said ‘fuck off’ in decorative cursive letters. But, even then Eddie would have been able to give his new neighbor the benefit of the doubt if it hadn’t been for that damned party.

Eddie came home from a particular stressful day at work. He had just started his residency at the children’s hospital and he had yet to find his footing. His supervisor was kind enough and he loved working with the children, but it was the parents that continued to make his life hell. Instead of listening to their children or to him for that matter, they would rather list of all the possible things that Google said their children might be suffering from. Eddie was grateful that his mother did not have Google when he was young or he might have turned into an actual bubble boy.

Eddie was beat and what he really wanted was to eat his dinner, take a shower and go to sleep before his alarm would wake him again at 6AM. It was about 11PM when Eddie crawled into bed, feeling a little less like death, that the pounding started. At first, he was confused where the noise was coming from, he lived in a relatively quiet neighborhood, mostly families and elderly people, but then he realized it was coming from across the hall. It was getting louder too!

Eddie was a good neighbor, he was not the kind of neighbor that came over to complain about the smallest inconvenience. He was the kind of neighbor that would neatly fold and iron your laundry if he stumbled upon a full dryer, he was the kind of neighbor that painted over your children’s drawings in the hallway to keep them out of trouble, he certainly was not the kind of neighbor that complained over a little noise. Eddie kept telling himself this over and over again, while the pounding continued. There were voices now too, clearly drunk people that were singing along to rock music.

He felt a headache coming up and since it was already past midnight, he hadn’t slept a wink, and his neighbor clearly wasn’t going to quiet down on his own, Eddie grudgingly dragged himself out of bed. He took off his maroon pajamas and put on a pair of jeans and the white t-shirt he had been wearing before. He didn’t care too much about the way he looked right now, but just enough not to walk into a room full of people in his pajamas.

Eddie made his way across the apartment thinking to himself that he was going to be polite but firm. Getting into a fight with his neighbor was the last thing Eddie needed in his life right now, but he wasn’t going to let someone walk all over him either. He took a deep breath and left his apartment.

He immediately noticed that the party had spread to the hallway. The door to his neighbor’s apartment was open and Paradise City from Guns ‘N Roses was blasting through the speakers. There were small groups of people in the hallway, loudly singing along to the song. A few raised their cup at him as if he was also at their party. Did they not have work in the morning?

“How’s hosting this party?” He asked a girl with short red hair and dark eyeliner, she had been talking to a slender boy with curly hair and a neat shirt, they seemed to be the only people not completely wasted.

“You’re looking for Richie. I’ll take you to him.” She said and without asking she grabbed his arm and led him into the apartment. The inside of the apartment was even worse. Apparently, Richie, his new neighbor, had not bothered to unpack, but he had bothered to set up a smoke machine, several colored flashing lights and an impressive sound system. The redhaired girl led him through the crowded dance floor and Eddie was sure he had felt at least two people grab for his ass.

The boy she had been leading him to was apparently also the DJ at the party. He was lanky and looked a textbook punk except for a bulky pair of glasses. His ears were decorated with several piercings, he was wearing a faded band shirt with holes in it, and his black jeans were so tight Eddie was sure he needed a stick of butter to get in and out of them. The thought gave him flashbacks to time he had to free his mother from a garter that had “shrunk in the wash” and it was no longer the BO stench from the dancing crowd that turned his stomach.

“Richie, get over here!” The girl shouted over the music while she gestured wildly at the lanky boy. “It’s your neighbor!” Richie pressed a few buttons and discarded his headphones.

“Hello neighbor, I was wondering when you would join the party!” the DJ said and he drew Eddie into an unexpected hug. Eddie could smell that he had been smoking weed which made him want to get out of there even more.

“Listen-…” Eddie started, but Richie interrupted him.

“You look like you need a drink.” Before Eddie could protest, Richie had pressed a red solo cup in his hand with what seemed to be lukewarm beer. There was no way in hell Eddie was going to drink from it. He didn’t know where it had come from, there could be hundreds of germs in it, not to mention drugs judging from the crowd he was in.

A song started playing that Eddie didn’t recognized, but would later learn to be Fever for the Flava by Hot Action Cop. Richie put his hands on his heart as if someone had given him a Rolex for Christmas. “This DJ is a genius!” He exclaimed and once more Eddie was dragged onto the dancefloor before he could protest.

“Do you think that I could get some, jiggy, jiggy.” Richie sang, wiggling his eyebrows and fingergunning at Eddie. “Maybe just a little finger, sticky, sticky.” Eddie rolled his eyes at how the other boy who belted out the song and rocked his hips to the rhythm. He started to move along to the song too before he knew it. He felt a smile creep onto his face and he thought that those jeans actually did look pretty good on him.

The song started to accelerate and Richie’s movements became wilder, his curls dancing around his head. “She got the power of the hoochie, I got the fever for the flavor of the coochie.” He crooned and he grabbed Eddie’s hips to draw him close. The movement surprised Eddie and he spilled his nasty beer all over his shirt. He cursed and pushed Richie off him while he tried to estimate the damage that had been done.

“I’m sorry, man, just take it off and I’ll get you a clean one.” Richie offered, but half his words got lost in the music. Suddenly Eddie didn’t feel like they were having fun at all, suddenly he felt like he was being made fun off. Maybe this Richie had suspected something about him, maybe someone in the building had even told him about Eddie. That’s why he was pretending to be into him. Or maybe he was just doing it, so he wouldn’t complain about the music.

“’Turn the music done!” He told Richie, his voice quivering. “I’m going home and I want to sleep.”

“I’m sorry, man, really am, but it’s just a shirt. Here take mine.” Richie started to take off his shirt, but Eddie pushed him away again. He averted his eyes, his face bright red.

“I want you to turn off the music and sent these people home. I have a job to get to, I need sleep, everyone in this apartment does.” Eddie said and before the other boy could answer, he stormed off. He didn’t even go to his apartment, but he rushed past it and headed for the elevator.

“Are you okay, man?” The curly haired boy asked who was still standing in the hallway. Eddie didn’t answer. He would go to his car and drive to Bill. He had a spare key and could crash there for the night, he would deal with all of this tomorrow.

But, when he got into his car, he sat down crying. Why had he let that boy dance with him like that? Like he was some kind of girl? And why had he liked it so much? He felt awful and dirty. In the end, he didn’t even make it to Bill’s but slept in his car instead.

#richie x eddie #eddie x richie #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it #itmovie #it2017 #mine #fanfiction

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herryjoke · 3 years

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Great Travel Ideas For Traveling Like An Expert

Making the most of every trip that you take is how you get your money's worth. This article will give you all sorts of ideas and tip on how to make your vacation more enjoyable than ever. Just sit back and enjoy it.

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Use plenty of plastic when packing. Putting your clothes, toiletries, and other items in clear plastic bags is always a smart way to pack when traveling with Canadian Immigration Consultant in Toronto. Not only does it help you organize, it also keeps your possessions safe. If the bag should be exposed to the elements on the tarmac, the contents of your bag will stay dry.

Keep a group journal in your hotel room while traveling. Invest in something as inexpensive as a spiral notebook, and allow the people you are traveling with to write in it during down time. This will provide an interesting read later and will be a nice keepsake from your trip.

When packing for your trip, make a list of the essentials and stick to that list. Pack in advance if you can. If you simply throw all of the items you think you'll need into your bag the night before, you'll end up with over-sized heavy luggage that will be difficult to transport.

Make sure to pack your vitamins when you travel and remember that vitamin C is a great energy and immune booster. Taking a vitamin supplement can help you prevent or lessen the effects of jet lag on your body, strengthen your immune system against the multitude of germs you will come into contact with, and generally make you feel better. Clear any supplements with your doctor before taking them if you have underlying health issues.

Look beyond the touristy souvenir shops. To find a souvenir that will remind you of your travels and actually comes from the place you visited, shop with the locals. In grocery stores, markets, and other stores that are off the beaten (tourist) track, you'll find things that locals actually use instead of the mass-produced trinkets.

Plan ahead for your vacation by applying for a credit card that has loyalty points, making sure to always pay off the card in full. This strategy can help you earn a free flight or a free hotel room to use for your vacation. After you've earned your reward, save up for your next trip.

Flexibility pays when it comes to booking your plane ticket! If your arrival or departure dates aren't set in stone, you can often times find better deals on tickets. Likewise, if you're willing to depart from a variety of airports in the area, you can often save big bucks.

If the cleanliness of the hotel you have chosen is a concern for you, use a clean T-shirt as a pillowcase. While you may not be able to fix the sheets, you can at least stay clothed. Your face is what you need to protect the most, so always have a clean shirt on hand!

Avoid catching a cold, or worse, on the plane with hand sanitizer. An airplane is an enclosed space where a large number of people are confined for an extended period of time. To make matters worse, the air inside the cabin is circulates, spreading germs from passenger to passenger. To avoid catching something, try to avoid touching your eyes, nose, and mouth. If you must scratch that itch, wash your hands, and then apply hand sanitizer.

Take your own travel items on the flight. This includes a pillow, blanket, entertainment device and headphones. Bringing these items allows you to be self-sufficient rather than being forced to rely on the airline for your needs. Also consider taking your own food. Airline food prices can be reasonable, but they don't have a very good selection.

While traveling, request peppermint tea or bring some along for your own use. Pack along some peppermint lozenges or candies. Peppermint is soothing and can help settle an upset stomach due to new culinary delights or motion sickness. In a pinch, it can also act as a breath freshener if you are caught out in the wild without a toothbrush or run out of toothpaste.

When it comes to exchanging your currency, it is all about location. Do not be a last minute currency exchanger running through the airport to try and get your foreign money. Airports can be a very costly source of currency exchange, and the rates may not be to your advantage. Exchanging should be one of the early things you do in your planning, as it also secures the money you intend for foreign spending.

Bring a door stop with you when you are traveling if you are nervous about the hotel room's security. Particularly if you are visiting overseas, some of the less expensive rooms do not have a dead bolt or chain lock. A door stop can be wedged between the door and the floor, offering a small deterrent to someone trying to get into your room.

If you are going to be rock climbing, you will probably need new shoes. Your shoes should fit so tightly that you can stand in them, but it should be uncomfortable to walk in them. Having tight shoes will increase your ability to use your legs and you will have optimal control with your movements.

Carry meal replacement bars with you when you travel with Canadian Immigration Consultant. You never know when an unexpected delay will prevent you from eating a meal. Meal replacement bars are compact and easy to carry. An additional benefit of these bars, is that it will allow you to keep your typical meal schedule. This can help reduce jet lag, and keep your spirits up when faced with irritating delays.

Every time you travel, you should be taking a mini vacation. Even if your trip is for business purposes, there is no reason you can't enjoy yourself and have a good time. If you are well prepared it will only add to the experience. You can use the information you've read here so that you always have better trips.

#canadian immigration consultant

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snapsnapmyturtleback-blog · 7 years

Text

Group Therapy

ahhh okay so listen

this is probably really bad and im so sorry but whatever fuck it

@reddiestenbrough

Eddie shuddered against the cold wind that pushed past him and made the fallen leaves swirl around him. He pulled his schoolbooks closer to his chest and continued on, his legs beginning to tremble more and more with each passing step. Eddie still remembered what his mother had told him that morning before school.

“Eddie-Bear, don’t you worry yourself. After school you’re going to go to a therapy group so that you’ll be a normal little boy.”

Eddie sighed, his hair blowing backwards in the wind as he made his way to the random building he had been told the group was being held in.

The brown building stood proudly but tiredly in front of him, the countless windows surrounding the building were glaring down at him.

Eddie took in a couple large breaths and swung open the door. He peered inside, the lobby was completely empty but there was a whiteboard sign with ‘Mrs. Jackson’s Therapy Group in room 301’ in large blue letters. Eddie glanced around frantically, his nerves getting the best of him.

What if they hate him? What if they judge him? What if they’re dirty and covered in germs? His mother would surely not approve and pull him out. Eddie began to hyperventilate, the walls seemly closing in on him.

He didn’t even notice someone enter from behind him or that someone placing their hand on his shoulder. He didn’t notice them until they turned him around to face them.

Eddie couldn’t focus on features. All he could see through his watering eyes was bright red hair and some blue jean overalls over a red shirt.

The person was saying something to him but Eddie couldn’t understand, all he could bring himself to do is shake his head and breathe in and out harshly.

Eddie suddenly found himself plummeting back into reality as he felt a stinging sensation on his left cheek. Whoever had been trying to talk to him had slapped him and was now holding his shoulders with a worried look on their face.

Eddie sputtered out fragments of sentences as he attempted to explain himself.

“Are you alright?” the person- a girl- had asked. Eddie took in a sharp intake of air and nodded slowly.

“Sorry.” Eddie mumbled sheepishly, using his right hand to flatten his hair and his left tightly secured around his books.

“It’s okay. Are you going to the therapy group?” she asked, pointing towards the sign. Oh, that’s right. Eddie nodded, trying to stay as silent as he could so he didn’t end up saying something stupid.

“Cool. I’m going too, we can find it together. I’m Bev, by the way.” the girl said, extending her hand.

Eddie stared at it, “There are about 5,000 germs on your hands at any given time. That’s not even considering those who don’t wash their hands after using the bathroom or after touching something with even more germs.” Eddie said, absentmindedly just spouting off facts his mother had drilled into his head.

The second he said those words, he flinched and laughed awkwardly. Great, he had just made himself look like an idiot in front of this random girl that he was going to therapy with. What if she had anger issues and was going to hurt him? Eddie was smaller than most kids and being sheltered didn’t help his nonexistent knowledge about defense.

Bev laughed, “Calm down, it’s okay.” she said, moving her outstretched hand back and waving it dismissively.

“I’m Eddie.” Eddie said, his head moving down as if he were trying to make himself smaller. “Well then, Eddie, lets go to this bullshit therapy session.” Bev bowed and walked past him into a hallway, Eddie scrambling after her, his backpack bouncing with each step.

The two approached the room labeled ‘301’ and Bev opened the door, stepping aside so Eddie could enter. When Eddie stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was a set of chairs formed in a circle with three people occupying three seats.

The first seat had Eddie’s therapist, Mrs. Jackson, sitting in it. A clipboard sitting in her lap and her legs crossed. She smiled as soon as she saw Eddie, waving a little at him.

Right next to her was a boy with curly hair and perfectly ironed clothes. Nothing seemed out of place with him, his shoelaces were even and his button up shirt didn’t have a single button out of place. Even his curly hair was styled a specific way and it hardly moved as the boy bounced his leg three times, paused for three seconds, and repeated the action.

The last seat was taken by a boy, also with curly hair, not as short as the other boy, with a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of black jeans. He was lazily spread out on the plastic seat across from Mrs. Jackson. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there and the way his shoes were off, thrown behind him, already made Eddie not like him very much.

“Come have a seat, guys. Wherever you want.” Mrs. Jackson spoke, gestured to the seats around her. Eddie dropped his backpack and books on the floor on the other side of Mrs. Jackson. He pulled out a container from his backpack and pulled out some disinfecting wipes, wiping down the seat and carefully folding it, placing it into the trash bin that leaned against the wall.

“Great, we got two clean freaks.” the boy in the Hawaiian shirt said loudly, adding a dramatic sigh after it.

“Richie, don’t forget what we talked about. Be nice.” Mrs. Jackson reprimanded.

Eddie ignored them both and watched as Bev plopped herself into a random chair in between Richie and Eddie.

“This is Stan and that’s Richie.” Mrs. Jackson introduced to Eddie and Bev, then she turned around to face the two boys and said, “This is Eddie and Beverly.”

Eddie waved awkwardly before shooting his hand down and yelling at himself internally.

“Now, we’re only waiting on Bill, Mike, and Ben.” Mrs. Jackson listed off, looking at her clipboard and taking down a little note.

Mike arrived next, he looked seemingly normal, like there was nothing wrong with him. Though Eddie supposed that they all looked normal, it was on the inside that counted.

Bill and Ben arrived together after him, chatting about random topics that Eddie didn’t exactly care for.

Once everyone was sitting and staring at Mrs. Jackson expectedly, they begun the discussion.

At first, it was small things such as “what’s your favorite TV show and why?”, just so they could get used to each other. While everyone was talking, Eddie glanced at the weird Richie boy. Richie was staring off, completely uninterested in the conversation. Mrs. Jackson must have noticed as well because seconds later, she changed the topic.

“Alright. Now that we all know each other a bit better, how about we get down to business. Why don’t you all tell everyone why you’re here and you hope to accomplish while you’re here?”

Bill was the first to speak after a minute or so of uncomfortable silence. He talked, with his stutter of course, about his brother, Georgie, who had gone missing a couple months prior. He talked about his parents ignoring him since his brother’s disappearance. He talked about his depression and how sometimes he’ll hear a clown’s voice and how sometimes he’ll see things that aren’t really there.

Next was Mike. Mike talked about his insomnia and how he has nightmares about the time he killed a sheep, except now he was killing people. He talked about how history was his passion and how much it helped him. He talked about the farm he lives at and how he’s homeschooled so he doesn’t get much social interaction with other kids but he craves it more than anything.

Bev talked about her cigarette addiction and how she does weed every now and then. She talked about her bipolar disorder and her mild depression. She talked about how she skips class a lot and hangs out on the roof, to which she nodded at Richie and Richie returned the gesture.

Ben told them about his self image issues and how he cares more about other people than he does about himself. He talked about how he had a love of poetry and also enjoyed history. He talked about how much he loved reading and how much it helps bring him to reality.

Stan had a small frown on his face as he talked. He talked about his extreme Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and how he had to do things in blocks of three. He had to enter a room three times. He had to move in steps of three before waiting three seconds and continuing to walk. The biggest thing to Stan was how he would have panic attacks if things weren’t set in groups of three. He could handle it most of the time, but it still freaked him out. He talked about how he was Jewish and he talked about how much he enjoyed bird watching.

Finally, it was left to Eddie and Richie. Eddie didn’t particularly like talking about himself so he hoped that Richie would speak up but, at the same time, he didn’t want to be last because then they might spend more time on him. So, Eddie did what Eddie always does and just started talking.

“Um, well, I’m Eddie- though I suppose you all already knew that. I’m a huge germaphobe and I have asthma. I, uh, I have a bit of social anxiety. And, umm, I don’t know. My mom is kinda overprotective and I have to take a lot of different pills to stay healthy. And, uh, well... I’m gay?” Eddie sputtered out, mentally face palming at everything he said.

“That sounded like a question, Eds. Are you or are you not gay?” Richie asked, now hanging upside down while still on his chair.

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie said automatically, “And yes. I am very gay.”

Richie nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“What about you, Richie? What’s wrong with you?” Stan asked, his leg bouncing.

“Nothing. I’m not like you freaks.” Richie responded with a shrug.

“No one here is a freak, Richie, not even you. If this is going to work, you need to actually talk about your problems.” Mrs. Jackson said, writing down some notes.

“Fine. These dickwads said I have borderline personality disorder, anxiety, depression, and I have anger issues. Also, I’m a kleptomaniac, though, I guess that doesn’t count as a mental illness, huh?” Richie said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out Eddie’s inhaler. Eddie gasped, stood up, and instantly grabbed it from the taller boy’s hand.

“How’d you even get this? It was in my backpack! Oh, man, mom’s gonna kill me.” Eddie spoke, not really expecting any answers as he wiped down his inhaler.

“Correction, it was in the side pocket and I snatched it as you walked by. Jesus, it’s like you morons are asking to be pickpocketed.” Richie explained and then, as if an afterthought, added, “Your mother seems like a real charm, she does. I bet she’s just as charming in the bedroom.”

“Beep beep, asshole.” Stan piped in. Eddie guessed they already knew each other from either school or the time they spent in here before Bev and Eddie arrived.

“I’m just joking. Didn’t realize jokes weren’t allowed in front of the clean freaks, my bad.” Richie spat, looking annoyed.

“Ri-Richie, may-may-maybe it isn’t a-a-a good i-i-idea to m-m-make fun of s-s-someone.” Bill stuttered, his voice strong even through every shake.

“S-sorry, did-di-didn’t m-m-mean to offend the s-schi-schizophrenic.” Richie mocked.

“Richie, that’s enough. Go take a walk around the building and come back when you’re capable of playing nice.” Mrs. Jackson ordered.

Richie rolled his eyes, threw his legs off the chair, and walked out of the room. Eddie watched as Richie stomped off, taking a puff of his inhaler, and followed the cute boy.

Eddie found Richie outside, shivering against the harsh winds. He looked angry, which Eddie didn’t understand since Richie was the one who started it.

Eddie sat down on the ground next to Richie and slowly wrapped his arm around him, allowing him time to tell him to leave him alone. Richie said nothing, just glancing at Eddie’s figure and staring back straight ahead.

“Are you... okay?” Eddie asked, tentatively, not wanting to anger the boy further.

“Thought you were the germaphobe.” Richie said, ignoring the question. “I mean, yeah, but, I mean, you’re cold so... I mean, I can move if you want me to-?” Eddie rambled, stopping when he felt Richie lean into his embrace.

“Please, don’t.”

Eddie nodded and rested his head on top of Richie’s, who had his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck.

They stayed like that for a while, until the others had come looking for them. Even then, they didn’t move. Eddie just shrugged and held onto Richie tighter in response to their questioning stares.

This happened pretty much every session. Richie would say something that was mean or offensive, Mrs. Jackson would send him out, and Eddie would follow and hold him in his arms outside.

So to say it wasn’t surprising to the losers club, as they called themselves, when Richie and Eddie started dating, would be an understatement.

#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #stan uris #ocd!stan #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #it 2017 #modern au i guess #the losers club #pls dont kill me #tylers au #therapy group fic

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seokmins-thighs · 6 years

Text

[scenario] all of the while, i never knew (coffee shop!au pt. v)

Pairing: reader x Mingyu; wonwoo and jihoon are still here! :D

Genre: coffee shop!au, garbage fluff

Word Count: 3090w

Warning(s): germy mingyu

pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii | pt. iv | masterlist

desc: continuation of coffee shop!au; it all started with you giving mingyu different names for your orders.

a/n: something keeps popping up for me to revive this scenario. a title to this part because why not

____

Slushes of snow, rain, and wind aren't so friendly to your immune system and more times than not, you open textbooks at your bedside and turn on the lamplight once moon greets you. It's better than heading off to the coffee shop and coughing into fists and at eraser shavings, plucking more tissues from the center of the table than actually picking up your mug of coffee. It's probably the safest way to make sure no one else get sick.

When you tell this to Mingyu over the phone, that you'll stay home to study instead of driving down to the coffee shop, you hear the bitter smile in his voice when he assures you that, "It's okay, but hopefully you'll get better soon, so I can see you at the shop."

When you try to sleep that night, a kick in your heart does nothing to fan off the burn in your cheeks.

----

The next morning, minutes into walking out of class, another set of steps start to sync up with your own. You glance up after the cloudy glare of sunlight and catch a hand grab for your textbook. Mingyu plops your book over the stack of his, flattening the apron folded at the top, and the lift of weight eases your arms.

"Feeling a bit better?" he asks as he opens up the cover of your textbook to lines of sticky notes, flashes of tabs, strikethroughs and underlines at every other date and term.

You shake your head just as an itch rises in your throat, forces out a cough to answer him. "Not really." With your nose clogged, you mumble about wanting to stay in bed today, but missing a lecture would step your grade down a letter. And when you say that out loud, Mingyu shakes his head, "That's a little extreme." You sigh about heading to the coffee shop to see him, your friends, his friends, but then dismissing it right away because you're the only one among your classes and friends who coughs through lectures and steps outside to blow into tissues.

"You're not the only one," Mingyu confesses, and it almost convinces you to go today. "Customers come in and cough into their hand before taking the drink I made. He sticks his tongue out in disgust, a scowl taking place of the faint smile that was there a second ago. You can't help but laugh--albeit, with a rough spell of coughs in between--at his misery. "I know it was unintentional, but it was just nasty."

At your car, you still urge him that it's better minimize the spread of germs, and the chatter punctuated with coffee machines, clinks of glass, bells of the door won't help your ears, anyway. He nods, understands. "Just text me when you need anything, okay?"

A few hours later, into your second nap between homework, your phone vibrates across the table.

Mingyu: Remember to take your medicine and drink lots of water

You tell him that you will, but it doesn't seem to convince him.

Mingyu: You better. But really if you do need anything, tell me

A string of knocks makes its way across the room and through your layers of blankets. After pulling the sheets away to see the door, your roommate swings the door open with a glass of water and an orange pill bottle in hand. Something in your face might have registered the words "How did you read my messages without looking at my phone?" better than out of your mouth.

"Your boyfriend texted me and wanted to be sure, so here."

----

A week later, coughs never make their way to your fist and you resort only to silent sniffs between a few sentences. Your naps between homework hours and textbook pages are cut in half to maybe only once a day when you feel a little burned out after lectures.

Today, you step into your car with the destination finally not being the university or home. Instead, you drive through rain and sleet to warmth and strings of mocha, green tea, sometimes caramel if customers are feeling a pinch sweeter today. The pale blue box in the passenger's seat ties off with a white ribbon, and inside holds a jacket you hope warms Mingyu up better than that thin beanie he deems an acceptable form of a head heater.

Guilt takes over through the single jacket because you know that it isn't enough to repay for all Mingyu has done for you, but it's a start. It's a warm start to the cold corner of winter before a leap into spring.

The bell's first ring above the door is cut off at Wonwoo's voice announcing louder than he would for calling out finished drinks Mingyu brewed, "Mingyu, y/n is here."

You look around for any scarred customers and only find a few of them dashing for that calm of post-morning rush. Ten in the morning seems like an ideal time to visit. Some clangs of metal and a hard cough later, the back door opens slightly. You catch Mingyu's eye through the small slit and you wave. His eyes widens, almost like his eyelashes throw the door open.

A couple of stumbles from behind the counter and to you is all it takes for him to regain his balance and stand up straight. If there are more customers here, if you actually decided to drop by a couple of hours ago, Mingyu would definitely have ran over a customer or two. Maybe three if there is a child.

"What are you doing here, y/n?" he asks, flattening his apron with the palms of his hands. Occasional white streaks absorb into his fingertips and he smears an entire blob of syrup off the torso of the fabric.

Without a word, you hand him the box and you know he's trying to control the smile from his face the second the cardboard is in his palms. From the flatline of his smile jumping back to life, lips parting and closing, flustered and hesitating. His eyes blink quickly as he glances from you to the box to his hands to his apron.

"Thank you," is a whisper before commenting that you look so much better, healthier, mumbles a third word indecipherable to your ears, before asking you what you would like to drink to start your day.

----

Study sessions and cupcake taste-testing with your friends resume under low lights of the shop. Sometimes, Mingyu drops a couple of extra drinks to try and Wonwoo elbows him when he returns behind the front counter.

One of your friend begs Mingyu to tell him the recipe for this one drink he tried, "I never had something like it before, just tell me what it is before I commit murder."

Mingyu smiles, doesn't say a word besides "Tell me what else you think of it," and leaves your friend plotting death with an old Minnie Mouse pencil he found in a lab.

----

The irony of the universe is that when someone tells you to do something, you do the exact opposite. The irony of Mingyu is that he messages you to not wait for him after class and assures you to not worry about him. You ask him Why? What's wrong? because he never tells you to not wait for him, never tells you to not worry about him.

But the irony you is that you are sure that worrying about him means you tuck your feelings for Mingyu somewhere and you convince yourself that don't have feelings for him. So you follow the irony of the universe, of Mingyu, despite what your brain tells you to do.

When you discover Wonwoo and Jihoon manning the front with two other strangers, you ask them what happened to Mingyu. Wonwoo shrugs as he fixes someone's drink, pumps so much syrup into the cup that you feel the energy draining from his eyes watching the glass bottle empty before him. "Mingyu's just sick. It's better if he doesn't cough into drinks, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," is another irony of you when you still hoped he would still be here, even when weeks ago you wouldn't even step inside when you coughed, blew your nose, and sneezed around the clock.

----

Communication doesn't reach both ends; it leaves messages asking how Mingyu is doing and throwing his own words back at him: if he needs something, don't hesitate to ask you.

But after a few days without a reply, besides one that you believe should say I'll be fine if it isn’t for bashes of typos, worry freezes you anxious. It smothers you when Wonwoo says that he hasn't let Mingyu into the shop for a week.

Y/n: Can i come over?

Mingyu: WAIT NO

Mingyu: Give me like...20 minutes pls

Y/n: Why?

Mingyu: I need to throw away the trash

Y/n: ???? because why does it take twenty minutes?

And as if he read your mind, Mingyu: I also need to clean my room

Y/n: STAY IN BED MINGYU

You head back after visiting the coffee shop, wave goodbye to Jihoon and Wonwoo. On the way to the grocery store, you call your father to ask him about that one thing that he always made whenever fevers, coughs, runny noses downs you.

"You don't sound sick," he scoffs.

"It's for a friend," you tiptoe your way with the word "friend" and around the usual question of Are you dating this friend?

But the question that crosses miles away has your foot nearly slamming the breaks in the middle of the intersection. "Is it that one guy?" rips a pounding right at your heart and you ask how does he know about this one guy. "Your friends are great at tagging you in pictures you don't take.

He lists off ingredients as you walk around the store, basket bouncing from your leg. When you head home and roll your sleeves up, wash your hands and pull out a pot and ladle, cutting board and knives, he reads off directions like a manual, yet punches in some modifications. You hope that beef and vegetable porridge will help Mingyu and spoon it out into a couple of thermos, one for Mingyu and one for Wonwoo. After brewing some green tea--because your dad says it will help a lot and you should be drinking some, too--you put everything into a bag.

Mingyu greets you with flat hair at the back of his head and a blanket draped around his shoulders. His eyes drown in light pink, but the tip of his nose drowns in a deeper shade. From the ten seconds after opening the door, he sniffs at least twice and coughed once.

"You should have told me you were sick," you tell him as you walk in and toe off your shoes.

"I was going to," is deep and troubled from the pit of his throat.

You can't be mad at him, so you plant the palms of your hands on his back and push him to the general direction of his room, promise him that you'll bring him food that you made before coming here. You shuffle to the table and set the bag down, pull everything out and ask yourself where the bowls and mugs are. After a quiet reply of "the cabinet behind you," you thank him before shooing him off to bed. But he doesn't budge a step; he lingers in the hallway and keeps his eyes on you, languid grin teetering on his face.

Your eyes glance up to him again as you start to pour some porridge into the bowls. "What?" before letting another drop fall onto porcelain.

The shake of his head is barely a tilt and he blinks slowly, softly. "Nothing," before waddling back to his room with a couple of stumbles at his steps.

After he downs the porridge and you wash the dishes, he lies back down in bed and asks if you can stay, "at least until I fall asleep."

You sit at the edge of his bed when you tell him, "Of course I will." Conversations jump from classes, the shop, to your friends, and it takes more than a thousand words for you to notice your hip pressing into his. When he tries to sit up in a snap to grab something, you slip a palm on his chest, pat the spot right over his heartbeat, and assure him to not strain himself. You don't realize the gesture until he places his hand over yours and on his chest.

"What were you getting, anyway?" after a loose squeeze of his hand.

"I took your pad of sticky notes once and I just remembered," is quieter against a breathy chuckle.

You shake your head, admit that he should keep it because you have stacks of them at home. Mingyu's eyes don't reflect glints at the corners and you start to miss them, until your mind treads around the topic of your friends. "You know, our friends think we're dating."

His eyes flutter shut and he grins. You wonder what that grin is supposed to mean, but you don't push him because it's the best thing he can muster while he's sick, while he's under medication.

It doesn't take long after to send him to sleep. The reply of snores after asking about his engineering professor doesn't indicate a whole lot. You pull his blanket up to his shoulders and when you try to get up, you forget about his hand still in yours.

You uncurl his fingers from yours one by one as the squeak of the front door damages the silence. When you step out and close the door, you tell Wonwoo that you'll be heading home and that the thermos in the fridge is for him.

A sigh of relief passes between the two of you and he smiles, offers a calming thank you before telling you to drive safely.

----

You resort to studying at your apartment nowadays, especially after your friends bug you that "You're so sad at the coffee shop now that Mingyu isn't there. Plus it's raining hard."

Wonwoo's number flashes on your phone hours after the third time you hear those words, and tells you that he'll be taking Mingyu to the doctor after finding him "wheezing since the morning, and he doesn't seem to get any better."

As much as you want to accompany them to the appointment, you don't know if you can handle Mingyu looking worse. You hear Mingyu at the other side of the bed asking if Wonwoo is talking to you, voice raspy and needing to take a breath in between every few words.

"Yeah, I told y/n that you'll get checked by the doctor."

Just a weak "Oh" from him hurts you a little. But little words can hurt a lot. Especially if that's all you hear and you expected him to ask you to come along. But Wonwoo assures you that he'll tell you what the doctor says when they come back.

"Hopefully it's nothing too bad," barely makes it to the receiver.

Focusing on studying finishes too quickly and it ends up as dragging to the kitchen and searching through every cabinet, though your stomach isn't even asking for it.

Wonwoo calls you again an hour later and says that Mingyu has some kind of inflammation, and after shuffling of papers, "But it should be gone in around two weeks." You thank him for informing you, but he adds on, "If he doesn't get better by then, you're taking him to the doctor."

----

The next couple of weeks, you and Mingyu resort to short messages because you're not sure how much he can do, besides stressing himself out with studying he stays up for and catches up to. You don't visit him after he emphasizes the possibility of scarring you to see him in this state and "so that's what Wonwoo is here for." You respect his decision, but you really do miss him.

Coffee shop study sessions are less frequent as your friends decided one day to come over to study at your apartment. Your roommate doesn't mind one bit, just spits hushed concerns about all the studying you do. But you justify it, explain that you think Mingyu would feel bad knowing if you weren't studying for or passing your classes because of him.

----

Snow simmers down to sprinkles of precipitation and during that time, Wonwoo messages you to come over to their apartment. In the middle of revising some lecture notes in the weekend, you reply to him that you'll be there in a bit. You're not sure what to expect or what to bring, so you hold another thermos of green tea before making your drive to his apartment.

You knock on the door and Mingyu's hair fixes its bangs over his eyes and his face brightens in its usual welcoming tan, with no pink at his nose or ears. He beams at you and takes your hand in his, pulls you inside and tells you that he feel so much better.

"Yeah, it looks like it," you agree and nothing can slap the smile off your face. He takes the thermos from the crook of your elbow and cups it in his, bending down to fix your shoes on the rack once he secures a hold.

"Where's Wonwoo?" you ask when you both reach the kitchen. "He was the one who texted me to come."

"He's in the shop, covering for Jihoon." He waves his hands at your furrowed eyebrows. "Jihoon isn't sick; he just has an essay he didn't start on." But the topic brushes past both of you like dust as he places the tea down and smiles, jumps a bit on his bare feet since "the last time you saw me, I was so sick and gross, but you still stayed when I asked and-"

The words bubble up too much and tip too far that he pulls your face in his hands and it takes a long moment to register the warm of his palms and his lips on yours.

You question yourself if it really happened, if the pounding at your chest isn't for no reason, if Mingyu's face is really just mere centimeters from yours this time. His hands linger solid and heating on your cheeks as he whispers a, "Thank you" that ghosts over your lips.

____

a/n 2: i guess...this is really the end to this +1 year long scenario? bc 1) it's not even a coffee shop!au anymore, 2) i haven't been writing scenarios lately and 3) gOSH MInGYu ISN'T MY BIAS. looking back, i think my writing really developed outside of scenarios.

anyway, i hope you all enjoyed this and to those who read from beginning to end (especially when i started this scenario), like mingyu, thank you for staying.

renaming it now that i finished it bc the title has been bothering me for months

#a post-thanksgiving gift from me to you <3 #mingyu #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #tabi writing

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newstfionline · 6 years

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The most germ-infested places you encounter every day—and how to avoid getting sick

By Elisabeth Leamy, Washington Post, December 14, 2017

It’s 6 a.m. Your alarm shrieks and you hit the snooze button. You have just deposited germs on your alarm clock. Most of us cringe when strangers cough or sneeze near us in public. But the truth is, hands are the real germ carriers. And our own hands are culprits, too. As you go about your day, your hands pick up other people’s germs but also deposit germs of their own. What kinds? Mostly the ones that cause colds, flus and diarrhea, but also norovirus, staph, MRSA--and more.

Let’s track where the worst microbes are in the course of a day. Our tour guide? Charles Gerba, often called “Dr. Germ,” a microbiologist at the University of Arizona. Gerba never imagined that microbiology would make him famous, but an Internet search of his name yields more than 10,000 results.

Here’s what Gerba has found in more than 40 years of looking for germs.

Your home. As you get dressed for the day, you may be coming in contact with germs.

Your clothes: You might be surprised to hear that your clothes can harbor salmonella, hepatitis and other viruses. Gerba found those germs and others can survive our laundry efforts because most Americans don’t wash clothes in hot water or use bleach anymore.

The solution: Use bleach or the hot cycle if you can. If not, run the dryer for more than 30 minutes, which can kill germs.

Your kitchen: Time for breakfast, and Gerba says our kitchens harbor far more pathogens than our bathrooms because of our own germs and those on raw meat and produce. The worst hot spots are the kitchen sink, kitchen sponge and kitchen counters.

The solution: Clean your kitchen sink and counter frequently with disposable disinfectant wipes, especially after handling raw meat or produce. Use paper towels, instead of a sponge, to wipe your counters. Run your sponge through the dishwasher or microwave it for one to two minutes to kill germs.

Your commute. Next, many of us head to work. Gerba says if you commute via bus or subway, you are six times more likely to get sick than if you walk or drive, simply because you are coming into contact with many more people and their germs.

The solution: Use hand sanitizer or wash your hands just after exiting public transit. And make that hand-washing thorough! When I asked Gerba the biggest mistake people make regarding germs, he instantly said: “Not washing their hands long enough or well enough. Our study showed only half the people who went to a sink used soap in a public restroom.”

Your belongings: If you wash your hands thoroughly and then grab your purse or cellphone, you are probably defeating the purpose. Gerba has swabbed the bottoms of women’s purses many times and says about a third of them are contaminated with fecal bacteria, probably from being placed on public restroom floors.

Then there are our phones. Gerba and his team have tested cellphones that contained 100,000 bacteria. And because they are our constant companions--at the table, on the toilet, etc.-- they are uniquely positioned to spread germs. “Viruses are a bit more mobile today than ever before because you’ve got mobile phones,” Gerba said.

The solution: Hang your purse on the bathroom hook rather than placing it on the floor. And never put a purse on your kitchen counter. Wipe your smartphone frequently with an alcohol-free antiseptic wipe. (Alcohol is not good for the screen.)

Your workplace. Restrooms have their risks, but they are not the worst germ centers at your workplace.

The elevator: The ground-floor elevator button is like a petri dish of germs because everybody who uses the elevator ends up touching it. But there’s something even worse. Read on!

The break room: “The hot spot we found in office buildings is usually the break room,” Gerba said. “Usually on the coffee pot handle. I mean, you want to be the first one to get the coffee in the morning.” Once again, where there are many people, there are many germs. “We found that viruses were spreading between people who had never met,” he said. “We figured maybe the problem was the restroom, but it was really the break room.” When Gerba and his team deliberately placed a synthetic germ in an office break room, it spread to most every surface in the office within four hours.

The restroom: In public restrooms, Gerba says the toilet seat that we obsess over is actually pretty clean because people wipe it or use paper liners. If you want to improve your chances even more, choose the center stall, which contains fewer germs because fewer people use it. The exit door handle, another source of angst, is also pretty clean, because most people have just washed their hands. The real cesspool in a public restroom is the floor.

The solution: Wash your hands as soon as you get to work after exiting the elevator. Encourage your company to have a professional cleaning service swab down the break room in addition to the restroom. Wash your hands thoroughly after visiting the break room.

Restaurants. If you head to a restaurant for your lunch break, some more counterintuitive findings await you there. Once again, the restaurant restroom is not the biggest problem, probably because it is frequently and professionally cleaned. So think about what everybody touches at a restaurant. ... The menu! Gerba and his assistants found an average of 185,000 bacteria on menus in one test of restaurants in three states. You probably have about a hundred times more bacteria on that menu than you do on a typical toilet seat in the restroom, Gerba said. “Sticky menus are not really on my diet.” Another potential problem spot: restaurant seats, because, if you think about it, staffers wipe down the tables, but maybe not the chairs.

The solution: Order your food from the menu and then excuse yourself to the not-so-dirty restroom to wash your hands. Or carry hand sanitizer and use a quick squirt before eating.

Grocery stores. Watch out for more germs if you stop at the grocery store on your way home from work. Gerba found E. coli bacteria on half of the shopping cart handles he tested. If you think about it, it could have come from shoppers’ hands, their babies’ diapers, or raw meat they put in the cart. However, fabric grocery bags may be a bigger risk, because they provide germs a direct route from the grocery store to your home. Gerba and his team found that about half of reusable grocery bags were also contaminated with E. coli, which is associated with the fecal matter of animals and humans.

The solution: Don’t eat while you shop. Wash or sanitize your hands after shopping. Place reusable grocery bags on the floor rather than the kitchen counter while unloading. Wash your fabric grocery bags with hot water or bleach--or both.

Most people reading about the germs they encounter throughout the day will be disgusted, but a hardy few will scoff and say that being exposed to germs makes you stronger. To that, Gerba deadpanned, “Or it kills you.” After all, pathogens like E. coli and salmonella can be deadly. “Getting sick doesn’t necessarily protect you,” Gerba said. But the advice above will.

#germs #Charles Gerba #health and hygiene

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gomugomunosword · 7 years

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Lost Stars

Zoro was not expecting the washing machine to flood on him. He was expecting the grinning boy who came with it even less.

zoroxluffy - chapter one

There had been a lot of things Zoro had to put up with in his lifetime. The main brunt of it was his disbelieving father and sister, both of whom had laughed in his face when he said he was going to college and, therefore, was going to live alone. Perona had laughed hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, her hands clutching her stomach as she rolled on the floor. Even Mihawk managed to lift his mouth into a shape larger than a smirk, which in his case meant he was practically roaring with laughter.

Zoro had gotten offended, shouted a few choice swear words, slammed a few doors, and had landed himself a place in some faraway college where his family were hours and hours away and he never had to listen to them chastise him ever again.

But, more than ever, Zoro was glad for the hundreds of miles between them right now. In fact, he had never been gladder, as he stared down at the soapy water that lapped against his boots and surrounded the whole laundry room; the bubbles piled high atop the “rose petal” smelling liquid.

The washing machine had flooded on him.

Zoro couldn’t believe it. Barely a month in and something so humiliating had already happened to him. To be honest, he had had no clue on how to work the machine, but he figured if he pressed a few buttons, poured some perfume smelling liquid in a pocket and pressed the ‘on’ button, nothing could possibly go wrong. Because, hey, he was in the middle of the twenty first century; machines were supposed to be able to do things on their own with minimal instructions, right? Right?

Well apparently not, if the watery disaster around him was anything to go by.

Groaning, Zoro aimed a hard kick at the side of the machine, glaring when the loud bang it made wasn’t enough to satisfy his anger. “Who paid you, huh?” he demanded, giving it another kick for measure. “Was it Mihawk? Did he pay you to do this to me, to show me that he’s right? That he’s always right?”

Zoro had never really felt the desire to call his father, well, father. He could never shake the feeling that in another world the cold man was his rival. It wasn’t as if Mihawk was begging to call him son, either, the two always having a more business-like relationship than anything a father and son should have. Hell, Perona had more of a relationship with Zoro than he did with Mihawk, and they were always at each other’s throats.

Muttering “You stupid fucking machine,” under his breath, Zoro waded through the water, trying to ignore how uncomfortable it was to his now sodden feet, trying now to open the lid to get his probably ruined clothes. But, of fucking course, it wouldn’t budge, the door deciding to rub salt in his wound by locking itself so that there was no way Zoro could open it.

Around this time Zoro was starting to get angrier, feeling more humiliated, and he didn’t think it could get any worse. Until a loud, booming laugh echoed around the laundry room, making Zoro jump hard enough for the water to splash further up his trouser legs.

“That’s hilarious!” At the sound of the voice, and the continuing laughter, Zoro turned with a scowl to see a young man (boy?) stood at the doorway, a joyous expression on his youthful face as a grin stretched his mouth.

Overall, there were three factors that Zoro noticed about the boy. The first thing he noticed was the scar under his left eye, which was quite odd, the second being that his black hair was incredibly unruly for three in the afternoon. The third was that he wore a shirt that was undone, showing some serious abs. Zoro had abs too, and had seen many in his lifetime, but he was still impressed.

Then Zoro, as slow as he was, noticed the large pile of laundry the boy held in his arms, overfilling to the point that a sock managed to fall and land with a small splash in the flood. “Shit, man, did you need the washing machine?” he asked, staring at the sock floating in the water. “’Cause I kind of broke it.”

“It’s fine,” the boy replied back with a giggle, his black irises falling to the sock too. “I’ll just use the soapy water on the floor instead.” And, as Zoro watched in horror, he promptly dropped the large pile on the floor and kicked it, using his bare feet to mix the clothes around so that they spread out.

“Are you crazy?” demanded Zoro, who started to make his way to clearly crazy boy. “Do you know how many germs there are on the floor? And you’re going to let your clothes soak in that filth?”

The boy just laughed in response and jumped into the water, kicking the water hard enough for it to reach and soak Zoro all through his last – last – clean shirt. It did well in stopping him in place, giving him a second to think that his day literally could not get any worse.

“Hey,” the kid called, pulling him out of his depressing thoughts. He had a bubble plaited moustache (how the fuck he managed to do that, Zoro had no clue) and goatee on his face and a bubble chef’s hat on his head, his body leaning to the side with his hands resting on his waist as he stared Zoro down intensely. “Look, I’m Zeff.”

Zoro stared at him.

The kid started again. “I’m Zeff, you know, the chef on TV? Peg-leg and stupid moustache?” At Zoro’s emotionless gaze he shook his head slightly. “No? Don’t know him?”

“Of course I fucking know him; he’s fucking everywhere!” Zoro replied. “I just didn’t find it funny because I’m literally stood in the middle of a fucking river.” To emphasise his anger, he even kicked the water at the kid, but it only made him shriek with laughter, the bubbles completely forgotten about as he picked up a handful of water and flung it in Zoro’s face.

There was a brief second where Zoro thought about just leaving, not bothering about gathering his trapped clothes, and just going back to his dorm for a nice afternoon nap before he hit the bar. Instead, he picked up the floating sock – which had now arrived at his feet – and threw it so it slapped the boy right in his chest.

Before he knew it, they were both rolling around in the water, bubbles and soaking wet pieces of clothing being thrown around the small laundry room, both laughing as they tried to dodge whatever wet missile the other was throwing at them, something of a challenge occurring to them both as they tried to bring their rival down.

It wasn’t until Zoro was holding the kid down, some soaked clothing in his hands as he tried to force it on the laughing kid’s face, that someone came into the room.

“What… the actual hell?”

At the sound of the girl’s voice, Zoro and the kid beneath him both whipped their heads to the door, where a ginger-haired girl stood with a small basket of neatly folded clothes held in her arms. She had a look of utter disgust on her face. “Are you putting dirty boxers in his face?”

“Huh?” Zoro looked down and found that yes, he was actually holding dirty underwear and that yes, he was putting the same dirty underwear in his face. The kid giggled, trying to keep quiet, as if he knew they were both in huge trouble if he laughed any louder. Throwing the clothing away, Zoro tried to look innocent. “This is really not what it looks like.”

See, this is what it looked like: two drenched young men wrestling on the floor, one with his shirt wide open, and underwear in the other’s hand. If Zoro had walked in on such a scene, he would have thought there was something going on. Which was exactly why he was able to understand the disbelief on the girl’s already disgusted face.

“It’s bad enough you’ve broken the only washing machine in this building,” she started, pointing a finger at the still bubbling machine, “but then you used it as an excuse to jump your boyfriend? Inexcusable.”

“Wait, no.” Zoro struggled to get off the boy. “I don’t even know his name-” He realised pretty quickly that was the wrong thing to say, the girl’s face now turning sickened and around 100% worse than it was before. Zoro felt the sinking weight of a bad sign fall into his stomach.

The kid sat up next to Zoro, still giggling, but he managed to poke Zoro. “My name’s Luffy,” he said. “Nice to meet you!”

There was no possible way Zoro could bring himself to tell him his name, let alone that he thought it was nice to meet him, too. Instead he turned to the girl, hoping his innocent look was still on his face, but knowing his usual pissed expression was there, instead. “Look, can you keep quiet about this? It really isn’t what it looks like. We were just… playing with the water. It was innocent, I swear.”

The girl stared him down. Finally, she sighed and looked resigned. “I hate sport students,” she told them almost proudly. “So pay me £100 and I’ll keep quiet.”

“£100!” protested Zoro, the bad sign feeling in his stomach getting heavier. “You do realise we’re students, right? There’s no fucking way I can afford that.” There was, after all, a reason he was using the only free washing machine in the building.

“Fine,” the girl held up five fingers. “£150.”

“That’s even more!” Zoro shouted, at exactly the same time Luffy yelled, “Deal!” and threw up bubbles in the air, a large grin still stretched across his face. Zoro felt like his soul had left his body. He couldn’t even speak or move from the kneeling spot he was currently in.

“£150 it is, then.” She beamed and gave the two a finger waggle, before disappearing round the corner, the sound of her happily humming easily reaching them in the room.

“Oi,” Luffy poked him again. “You never told me your name. You’re funny, I like you.” And he laughed, as if he didn’t just have to pay a debt to a money-stealing woman. “I even told you my name, so you kind of have to tell me yours now too.”

Zoro fell onto his hands and knees. “Why?” This would be where Perona and Mihawk would be nearly pissing their pants, a “told you so” managing to escape between their bellows of laughter at his expense. “I can’t believe this.” How had it happened like this? Zoro didn’t deserve this; he had been a good little boy, or at least as good as a green-haired angry kid could be.

It was that kid, Luffy, Zoro realised. It was all because of him that he was in this mess. But when he looked up at him, determined to demand he pay the full amount for all his tricks, he found that Luffy was right in front of him, concern in his young face. “Are you getting a cold?” he asked, genuinely sounding worried. “I heard that happens when you spend a long time in water in your clothes.”

“My name’s Zoro,” he told him instead. The boy returned the sentiment with a massive grin, one that shocked Zoro by how sunny it was. It was like the sun had literally manifested itself in this kid’s face.

Oh no.

“Zoro.” The word rolled off the boy’s tongue easily, sparking unwelcome delight in Zoro’s chest. “I do think I like you after all, Zoro.” And he laughed, shishishi, somehow bringing a smile on Zoro’s face, no matter how much he tried to stop it.

He was cute.

#zolu #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #luffy x zoro #zoro x luffy

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 7 years

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Untitled

Levi huffed unhappily as he trudged down the stairs of his apartment building, shitty snow outside has cause a black out and he was forced to carry the bag of rubbish down 5 flights of stairs, he could practically feel the germs spreading across his skin and he itched to wash his hands. Fucking inconsiderate arsehole snow. Arriving at the main floor, he pushed the sad excuse of a door open and the wind rushed to meet him, the bag swayed slightly and knocked against his leg. Great. Now he'd have to wash his pants too. He glared at the swirling snow flakes and forced himself down the stairs. He hated living here, but it wasn't like he had anywhere to go, the rent was cheap and the landlord didn't ask questions... not like his pesky neighbours. Rounding the corner he glared at the mound of trash to the left of the dumpster, some people were fucking pigs, but at least someone had left the bin lid up, so his free hand wouldn't have to be as contaminated as the one currently holding the rubbish bag. He tossed the offending bag over the side and huffed. He felt revolting, cold weather could go fuck it's self. He turned to head back the way he'd come, in annoyance he eyed the same pile of trash, it'd slid sideways and he realised it wasn't actually trash. Without thinking he lunged forward. Between the bags of filth, a dirty teen was balled up, the kid wasn't even conscious, his face was beaten black and blue and choke marks were clear around his neck. This hit way too close to home and despite the disgust he felt from touching the teen, his conscious wouldn't let him just leave the kid there. He lifted the teen easily, it was disgusting how easy it was. The kid was practically skin and bone, and he glared as he started his march back inside. After 5 flights of stairs, the dirty teen was finally beginning to feel heavy, he fumbled the keys from his pocket and groaned in annoyance as they dropped to the floor. He smacked the kid lightly against the door as he retrieved the keys off floor and Levi wondered if the kid was even still alive. Once he was finally inside, he toed his boots off and walked straight into the bathroom. He sat the teen down on the bathroom floor, without the stink of the dumpster, the kids own stink filled the room and growled in disgust. He was less than gentle as he stripped the brat. The boys whole body was a mess, bruises and healing cuts. Most of which seemed to be infected. It was fucking disgusting what people could do to each other. Once the teen was stripped Levi eyed the boys clothes. They weren't staying and infecting his apartment with their contagions. He'd have to bin his own clothes too. He pushed down his disgust and turned the bath taps on, given how cold the kid was he'd have to raise his body temperature slowly. He lifted the teen into the water and the teen didn't wake, he quickly made sure the kid actually had a pulse. Despite the teens condition, the boys pulse was strong. At least that was something. The water turned brown around the boy and he grimaced. This was going to be a long day. It took him the better part of two fucking hours to get the brat washed. He didn't even want to think about how many times he'd need to bleach his bathroom before he felt comfortable in there. He'd scrubbed every inch of the kid clean, under the dirt he wasn't bad looking. Still on the young side, but showing the signs of the man he'd become. He'd emptied and drained the bath before climbing into shower to clean himself down. He scrubbed his own skin until it was painfully red and the water stung, once done he dried the boy and laid him out on the sofa, before covering him with two thick blankets. He then wiped himself dry and dressed warmly. He'd done his good deed and he hoped he wasn't going to catch anything nasty from the boy. He shook his head, disgusted at himself. He'd been the same as this kind once and really wasn't in any position to judge. * The kid on his sofa was lucky. Levi would have left his sorry arse alone while he went to school if it hadn't been the weekend. He swore brat didn't look more than 14, but then again everyone looked young these days... not that he could really complain, being only 16 himself... although he'd always felt older than what he really was. The kid was still asleep, and Levi's patience was beginning to wear thin, it wasn't like he was the loudest or most social of people as it was, and having another life form sharing his space was just... weird. Walking over to the sad excuse of a kitchen, he shifted through the dregs of food in the cupboards, he really needed to go food shopping, but the snow hadn't let up and he didn't particularly feel like being wet and cold. Purely for the fact he was supposed to eat, he settled with making himself a simple cheese sandwich. He'd never understand foodies and was pretty sure if the human body didn't require food, he wouldn't eat at all. He finished his meal over the sink and washed the sink until nothing remained, before turning off the living room light and retreating to the sanctuary of his bedroom. Unlike most teens his age, his room was spotless. Everything had its own place, nothing was every out of place, he even folded his clothes before placing them in the laundry hamper. His friends didn't understand, but they also didn't judge, they knew he had a past and didn't pry... still he wondered what it'd be like to be more normal like them. He dressed for bed and pulled his phone out, it was still a little before 10, which meant he'd get a good 7 hours sleep before surfacing to face the world at 6 the next morning. He scrolled through Facebook dispassionately, apparently Hanji had spent the whole weekend spamming him with a ridiculous number of pointless pm's, he'd cop it tomorrow though. But that was then and this was now. Levi never was a very heavy sleeper, he shot straight up and a thud echoed through the empty darkness. It took him a moment to remember the shitty brat on his sofa and he sighed as he pushed himself out of bed. He'd need to clothe the kid and then maybe he'd be able to evict him back home... if he had a home... he really hoped the kid wasn't a permanent resident of the streets. He flicked the lamp beside the bed on and walked over to the chest of draws that housed his neatly folded clothes. Things like shirts and jumpers got hung, but pyjamas got folded and the kid was probably freezing his balls off. He pulled a newer pair out, he wasn't particularly in love with the style of them anyway and given his short stature they were just too long. He took a deep bracing breath and walked out from the bedroom, his fingers found the light switch easily and the room became annoyingly bright. The bathroom door was closed and Levi looked at it, before crossing and knocking "Oi brat! I've got some clothes here, puttem on and then come out" He cracked the bathroom door and slipped the bundle through the gap. It took a few minutes before the weight was lifted from his hand, he pulled the door closed again and moved to the kitchen, it was damn near hypothermic in the small room. He needed tea. He brewed two cups and carried them to the coffee table, making sure they sat central on the coasters, before sitting and waiting. The teen was a good 10 minutes before he finally came out, the pants sat low on his hips and the sleeves were short enough to be 3/4 lengths. He was reminded once again of how unfair genetics could be. Still he forced himself to remember the social gracities "Come and sit down, its freezing and I don't particularly want you dying in my apartment" Well... he remembered some of them. The teen walked causally over and sat on the sofa, Levi eyes his hands, wondering if the teen bothered to wash them after doing whatever he was doing in there "So, who are you? And why did you feel the need to throw yourself out?" The teen and brushed the hair back from his face. Levi was met with the most amazing green eyes he'd ever seen in his life, it was like the kid was sucking his soul out and the quickly looked down at the tea cup. He'd long since finished his tea in his wait, but he just couldn't look at this kid "I'm sorry for the trouble. I'll leave in the morning" Levi's head snapped back up, he wasn't expecting the kids voice to be so smooth. Especially not with such nasty bruising around his throat "It's fine, you've been here since Friday afternoon" It wasn't really fine, but if the kid was preparing to head back out onto the streets... that was even less fine "Oh... I'm sorry... you should have just left me then" Levi frowned. The kids voice now carried a hint of sadness "Look. What's your name?" "Eren" "And do you have a last name?" "Yeager" "So your names Eren Yeager. Well, I'm Levi Ackerman. Now, why were you outside in this weather?" "It's not your concern, I'm sorry for imposing" Was this kid fucking broken or something? Levi huffed "Look. You're hear in my house after I saved your fucking arse from freezing to death. Start talking" Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, he looked up at the sound of the teacup rattling, Eren drained the cup in one go "I'll go. I'm sorry. I'll pay you for the pyjamas, but you really shouldn't get involved with me"' "You don't have to pay me and don't be stupid. I'm not sending you outside in this" "I'll be fine" The teen stood and walked towards the door and Levi watched him go. He was confused as fuck. It felt like some dream. He was sure he'd never understand people.

#ao3 #aot #Levi Ackerman #Eren Yeager #idk #riren #ererific

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