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#but when someone you love washes your hair or brushes it or braids it or tucks away a stray piece
thresher-art · 5 months
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Wash Day
Pairing: Polyam!Camp (is there a proper name for this?). Tadpolycule. Everyone's dating everybody else. Because I said so.
Summary: A bunch of headcanons/thoughts on bathing at camp, because I care about the mundane stuff going on when these guys aren't fighting all day long.
A/N: Tav/Reader is gender neutral and is left racially ambiguous, but has curly hair, because as a curly girlTM I am biased and thought this would be really cute.
-Bathing is usually a solitary affair, that is until you get more comfortable with the others. Wyll and you are the ones that - completely innocently, by the way - start bathing together. Wyll can obviously take care of himself, but it's just nice to know he has someone at camp who understands how much work and care curly hair needs
-You two end up bonding over hair care. Whenever you meet a merchant, you two keep an eye out for oils and soaps that the other could need
-Wash day becomes a fun activity more than a chore - you and Wyll help each other detangle your hair, and in Wyll's case, after a bit of practice, you help him braid his hair. He can do it by himself, but especially now that he has these horns, it just goes by much faster when he has you to help
-Astarion initially teases you about sneaking off to 'bathe' with Wyll. It's not until he realizes that you two are essentially having a spa day in the wild that he goes all "oh thank heavens finally someone who understands" and practically demands to join you
-Astarion's a curly girl too, and one with fancy tastes to boot. He loves exchanging hair care tips with you and wash day becomes a way for him to understand that nudity and physical closeness does not immediately mean sex
-Shadowheart eventually joins you because, Lady of Sorrows, long hair like hers is a hassle. Having people who will happily help rinse out her hair and scratch her scalp while they're at it is a blessing
-Astarion will sometimes braid Shadowheart's hair for her. He likes coming up with elaborate updos, and she ends up looking like an elven princess every single time
-Shadowheart also brings wine to wash day. It becomes a wonderful bonding-bitching session every time wash day rolls around
-Karlach joins because you one day realized that when she's submerged in cool waters and separated from your skin through a cloth or sponge, you can actually (somewhat) touch her. It's her chance to get some form of physical touch in, so she's taking whatever she can get
-She also has a lot of fun splashing Astarion when he gets too mouthy with all of you
-Lae'zel is the opposite of Karlach. Why would she waste her time splashing about like children when she could simply rinse herself off quickly and be done with it?
-But getting crusted blood and guts out of her hair sucks, and she usually rips through it with a comb. You and Wyll at least have the patience to be gentle
-She pretends to hate every second of it, but secretly loves it. Please, someone get Lae'zel a proper spa day, she deserves to relax!
-Gale strikes me as the type of man (that I unfortunately see far too often) that actually has proper wavy hair or even curls, but just has no idea what to do with them and as such simply brushes them out
-Astarion and you sit Gale down one wash day and do a proper curl routine on him. It's glorious, his hair has never looked healthier and some waves and a few stray curls do end up coming in
-The two of you make him swear to never brush his hair out like that again. He's far too handsome to ever go back to brushing out his waves every day
-Gale does know his way around beard care! And with beard care comes some knowledge of skin care
-(I'm totally not using the VA's DnD one shot to make Gale out to be a skincare person)
-On the rare occasion the group has time to relax, Gale and Astarion are in charge of the skin care. Facemasks for all, and yes, even you Lae'zel, stop scowling
-Wyll usually doesn't grow his beard out too long, but with a bit of Gale's coaxing (and super-soft hands when massaging his face), he can be convinced to wear a beard. Sometimes. He's not quite sure if he likes that look on himself, but Gale, as well as Lae'zel, are very big fans
-Once Halsin comes joins camp, he doesn't need a lot of convincing to join them. After all, this is the best way to bond, bare, amongst nature
-Shadowheart, Astarion and you always end up playfighting on who gets to help Halsin with his lovely hair, who gets to help him scrub...
-Wash day is overall a fun occasion, sometimes horny, sometimes not, but regardless, you all enjoy it enough to have it be a routine, one that will be sorely missed once this adventure is over
Bonus thoughts:
-Jaheira reluctantly (but eventually quite happily) joining in on wash day. Her hairstyle looks so tedious, give her a helping hand!
-Bath days for Scratch and the Owlbear Cub. Chaos ensues.
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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read dd zombie au as a horror and zombie enthusiast and I had to say this-
what if darling was bitten but somehow "immune"?
she gets bit, symptoms come in but strangely she doesn't turn. she hungers like a zombie but the thought of hurting someone brings her back.
johnny and simon are kinda happy. you're not a zombie! yay! but the blueish bite on your shoulder says otherwise. at night, they tie your hands to your waist and bind your mouth shut, but apart from sleepy shuffling and grumbling, you don't seem to want to eat them.
the bagged mre's they try to feed you make you gag unless it's suspicious patties, so they guessed you were hungry, just not enough to try to eat them.
strongly believe that johnny treats you like a child. hand feeds you your meals that you reluctantly chew on, washes your hair and braids it ( he knows you hate waking up with tangled hair ) even brushes your teeth for you. he does this because you're too weak and tired to do it yourself ( no he doesn't. he does it because he hates seeing you like this, wishes he could cure you, but he can't. so he makes sure you eat and drink. he needs you. )
simon has seen so many people die to the virus that it feels unreal to him. he's still waiting for you to suddenly snap at him. however, watching the way you stare at him and johnny like you genuinely are there, it reassures him. he tries to talk, have conversations with you, make sure you remember. he despises having to leave you, though. he feels that if he take his eyes off you for a second you might pass or turn.
by the two week mark, you're getting better. the dark circles under your eyes are fading and the hollow dent of your cheeks is getting fuller. the mre's still make you gag, but it seems you'd rather eat those than a squirrel.
there's hope, they think. but if people find out you're immune... they'll try to take you away.
you can't leave them. they'll make sure no one takes you.
BITCH (affectionately) the way this is so fucking good. I LOVE a caretaking fic (clearly) and a protective Simon and Johnny. Love the idea of them on the run, hiding you, protecting you from those who are hunting immunes. Honestly could be an entire book. This scratches my itch so well. Love your brain.
Johnny just wants to take care of you. He knows you’re still in there, knows you’d be so distraught if you realized how filthy they’d let you become, so he takes him time leading you down to the creek by the campsite. He uses one of the t shirts they’ve been using as a washcloth to sponge you clean, humming sweetly to gentle you as you flinch against the water. Your skin is starting to turn back to its normal color now, a recent development that they both feel good about, and you’ve become more sensitive to temperature, occasionally shivering against the chilled cloth. Simon keeps watch, and you watch too, tracking Johnny’s hands with sluggish eyes and a half open mouth, tongue flicking between your teeth.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re preparing to take a bit out of him-
“Just gon’ brush yer teeth, darling.” He cradles your jaw with strong fingers and your brow furrows, confused when he pops your mouth wide, the little toothbrush you packed for yourself when you evacuated lightly scrubbing across your bottom teeth.
“Be careful, Johnny.” Simon warns, but he clucks his tongue.
“She’s alright. Cannae hurt me.” He knows you wouldn’t. You already would have, at night. Already would have turned on them, ripped their jugulars free with your teeth when they slept.
But you wouldn’t. Because you’re still in there. You’re still darling.
Once he’s done, fixed your hair so that it’s up but not weighing your scalp down, ensured it’s in place how you like, he passes you to Simon so he can make dinner.
Simon walks patrol at this time, and you go with him, listlessly walking at his side.
“D’ya remember last summer, when we all went to that carnival? You were so excited. Made Johnny and I play that bloody ring game against one another. You were so chuffed, I swear I can still hear you giggling when Johnny beat me the first time.” You moaned in response, something that didn’t sound quite like words, but more positive to negative.
Something catches his eye. A deer in the woods. A doe. Sizable. He glances from you, to it.
“Darling.” He holds your shoulder, trying to jog your gaze. “Darling, I need you to stay here.” He doesn’t want to leave you, but if he can get closer, he can get a clean shot off. You stare at him, and he sighs. “Alright.”
He makes it ten meters before the brush rustles behind him, the sight of you lumbering slowly towards where he’s crouched. You’re staring past him, watching doe with a glazed over look, and he tenses.
Once you get to his side, you look down to where he’s kneeling behind a bush, and then you start to, painfully slow, crouch beside him, fingers lightly brushing against his thigh.
You look at him, and then at the deer with a grunt. The hope that blooms in his heart is infectious, and he can’t fight it. He won’t.
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Weeks later, they’re on the road when they come across a group of others.
You’ve improved, greatly, but your ability to speak never came back. You can’t talk, only point and make little noises here and there, and your fine motor skills are still struggling, (Johnny is still brushing your teeth for you, and feeding you. He doesn’t complain, they both have always loved taking care of you) and your pace is very slow, like you’re sore, and always tired. Simon is careful to go easy, not wanting to do anything to stress you or make your condition worse.
The bite mark on your neck has never gone away. It’s a scar now, rough and raised flesh like a fucking beacon on your skin. They usually keep something tied to it, but for some reason on this day, you had pulled it free, and they never noticed.
But the others did.
“Is that a bite?” One of them says, and Simon tenses, positioning himself in front of you, Johnny pulling you into his chest, protective arm across your shoulders.
“No.” Simon tells them, but they don’t buy it. One them stares at you, greed dripping from his gaze.
“Heard there were immunes out there somewhere. NHS is offering a big payday for one alive. Or dead.” He licks his lips, and Simon shakes his head.
“Trust us. Ye dinnae want to do this.” Johnny calls, but the group is already staring at you like you’re worth your weight in gold.
There’s five of them, versus Simon and Johnny, but they like the odds.
They’ve got bullets in three before you even realize what’s happening, Simon’s blade buried in the flesh of another’s neck in a flash, Johnny pressing his weight into the last one on the ground.
“He’ll tell others.” He spits over his shoulder, and Simon nods.
He will. And they can’t allow that. Can’t allow anyone to know about you.
The last thing the man sees is Johnny’s hands around his neck, and you watching half interested over his shoulder, half bored.
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elsfairy · 6 months
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ur actually so real for that bc abby deserves to be pampered and loved so much it hurts. like imagine doing her hair for her or telling her she's so pretty. that little blurb u wrote reminded me of the clip where she says 'i wished someone loved me enough to make me a stocking'☹️☹️. like abby baby i love you enough i'll make u a million stockings istg.
please, as much as I write smut about her, half the time I’ll just be sitting at my desk thinking about how it would feel to just take care of her. helping her prep meals when she can’t, running baths for her when she’s too tired to even function, brushing & braiding her hair for her. baby needs to rest and put her feet up. lemme take care of everything for you, you know? also that clip of her in the game, with the stocking? I always cry at that :( girl seriously deserves so much love & to be cherished. just seeing those puppy dog eyes when she says it, has me grinding my teeth together BECAUSE HELLO? GIVE HER A GODDAMN STOCKING? give her everything she wants? help take her muddy clothes off after a long day, run that bath for her, wash her hair, and kiss her head. let her be the little spoon, and when she’s all relaxed, fully fed, and comfortable, run your fingers through her hair. whispering that you love her into her ear, just telling her how much you appreciate how much she does for you and to help you but now it’s your turn to take care of her.
calling her pretty :( i’d do anything to see her blush, goddamn. especially when she’s all sleepy in your arms, and her face just heats up when you mumble “you’re my pretty girl” and she’s lgjlkgjlskjgs :(( i need her.
In conclusion, i want to pamper the hell out of Abby Anderson, and give her all my love.
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ariachaos · 3 months
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Hi!! Could you do hanma with a s/o that just. Draws random people they see (they have a really nice artsyle) and they drop it off at the person's table/place they're sitting when they're not looking
Maybe u can do a scenario like this? He sometimes drag reader to the valhalla arcade just because, she stays CLOSE to him cause she doesn't wanna accidentally seem like a fool infront of everyone. But she draws in her sketchbook to pass time (and her arms are filled with doodles). When she finally goes home she drops the drawings of the members off at the places they were sitting at
this!!! THIS IS CUTE WTF
reader is fem! reader
ˢʷᵉᵉᵗʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵉᵛⁱˡ !!
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being hanma's s/o includes...
he loves you SM!!!
if he could, shuji would make you tiny and keep you in his pocket all day every day
loves coddling you and putting you in an affectionate chokehold while you draw so it's not in the way of your arms or sight. sometimes he hold your waist and look over your shoulder while you doodle about.
will let you doodle on his tattoos! make them pretty for him, he'll love it and be very reluctant to wash his hands after. they're your hard work, and he can't have them go down the sink like that :(
gives you hand and shoulder massages whenever you ask him to! you work so hard every day to get better at drawing, it's the least he can do for his baby!
if you start drawing other people that's not him, he might get a little pouty and start whining about how he isn't attractive enough for you anymore, even when you explain that you've drawn him so much you could draw him without even looking at him.
he's just a big baby to you, really. to everyone else, he's someone that could easily punch their teeth in and more, but to you, he's a big baby that depends on your touch and affection to even breathe. he just loves you sm really
however, even with all his clinginess, shuji will still let you draw the valhalla members as long as you stay close to him. he may know his gang members, but he doesn't trust them enough with your safety. far from it, actually, so you're stuck at his side through the duration of the meeting
he has this proud smile on his face when you go around the abandoned arcade dropping off the drawings with small scribbles of each gangster's name before the two of you go home. he's happy that you're doing something nice for them, but he will never let them get more than that one drawing
you can spend more time drawing him and making him look hot asf
he also notices you like him when he has his hair down a lot, so he always washes his hair the first thing he gets home so you can play with it.
has his face buried into your stomach, arms wrapped around your waist, while you brush his hair, dry it, play with it, braid it, whatever the hell you want to do, you can do it
you have his full trust, and shuji doesn't know how to say no to you, so whatever you want to do with him, he'll follow.
while he may not like you drawing other people, he does like to see their reactions to their portraits that you drew when you drop it off without their knowledge.
calls you a sneaky little baby for it, grabs your jaw, and presses a big kiss on your lips
doesn't even try to hide the fact he's kissing you, he literally makes a loud "MWAH" sound
it's so embarrassing but also endearing so you let him get away with it.
shuji also likes it when you practice drawing hands by using his hands as a reference. flexes occasionally just to tease you <3 honestly, any time you draw any part of him, his ego is blown through the roof.
there was this one time he fell asleep half naked after showering because he was hella tired, and he woke up to find you sketching him out with his head on your lap. he had a huge smirk on his face the following morning.
teases you and says you'll make him catch a cold if you keep "undressing me with yours eyes" when you're struggling to draw a wrinkly part of his shirt. like bro, shush i'm trying to draw your shirt pls
it still makes you flustered.
you've tried teaching him how to draw once
and well
let's say he's better off using his hands to throw hands
nicknames for shuji <3: shu, shuji-chan, lil zombie, little reaper, my model, my muse, favorite model, pretty boy, pretty baby, and pretty muse.
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hey-august · 4 months
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★ Buggy Headcanons (SFW) ★
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Image from vinlandsky
Based on OPLA Buggy ♡
a/n: Mix of relationship and general headcanons. Mentions of gender-neutral reader. Everything is sfw, I might do a nsfw list eventually
Buggy lets you take care of his hair when you’re both alone - washing it in the shower, brushing it out, sometimes he’ll let you braid it or do intricate styles. When he’s particularly stressed, he’ll ask you to play with his hair. Usually under the guise of asking for help getting it untangled, but really he wants you to run your fingers through his hair and pamper him.
Buggy lets you paint his fingernails and his favorite part is getting a hand massage from you. He’ll also paint your nails and he’s surprisingly good at it. He's very serious about it and takes it personally if the polish smudges before it dries.
If you fall asleep with make-up on or his face paint smeared on your face, Buggy will wipe it off. He doesn’t like it when you do the same for him, but won’t object if you neaten up any smeared paint.
Buggy sleeps in the middle of the bed. He got used to it when he didn’t share a bed and still ends up spreading out like a starfish, forcing you to sleep off to the side or to curl up into him.
Buggy is very particular about what he uses for face paint. It’s not that he needs the priciest paint, but he wants specific colors and pays attention to consistency and longevity. It needs to be flashy, after all.
He is absolutely a morning person. Buggy found that his big personality stands out more in the morning and he likes the attention.
Buggy might not label the relationship. He’ll avoid using words like “boyfriend,” “girlfriend,” or even “lover.” It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but he’s not used to being in a relationship. Instead, Buggy will call you his “partner.” More often, he’ll say you’re “special,” call you his “treasure,” or his “star act.”
Buggy knows he loves words of affirmation. Receiving compliments and admiration boost his ego and make him happy. But secretly, he melts at physical touch. Between his looks (nose) and Devil Fruit abilities, he’s wary of physical connections. Soft, casual touches, like holding hands or touching his shoulder when you walk past, make him feel desired and loved.
He loves junk food and snacking. If he gets food for you, he’ll end up eating most of it without realizing.
Buggy likes to annoy you for attention. He acts offended when he crosses the line and you get upset, but apologizes later when you two are alone.
He won’t admit it, but Buggy enjoys being babied. Especially when he’s sick. He’ll whine and complain the whole time, but will also say thank you or pay you back with kisses later.
He gets nervous before doing something romantic, like taking you on a date or asking you to dance with him. 
If you’re complaining about something, sometimes he forgets to listen because he likes the look on your face when you’re annoyed (at something other than him). 
Buggy will make up excuses just to see you, no matter what time of day. If he’s in meetings or rehearsals all day, he’ll sneak away or extend a break just to spend time with you.
He always brings you back flowers whenever the ship docks. Large bouquets, single roses, flowers he stole from someone’s garden - one time he almost forgot and brought back palm fronds that he pulled off a tree.
He has an attractive morning voice. Low and with a bit of a drawl.
Buggy gets jealous when people get too friendly with you. He tries to act like it doesn’t bother him at first, but really he’s staring them down until he’s too pissed to stand back any longer.
Buggy likes it when you share food with him. If you offer him a bite of something you’re eating, he wants you to feed him, instead of taking the food from you. (Sometimes when you paint his nails, he’ll ask you to feed him snacks. He says it’s because he forgot to eat beforehand, but that’s a lie.)
He has trouble apologizing sincerely. Buggy usually rushes through the apology, either with a whisper or incoherent babbling. If you push him to really apologize, he gets annoyed or embarrassed, but will apologize again anyways.
Buggy always uses cheesy pick-up lines on you. Sometimes to make you laugh, other times because he’s not sure what to actually say.
He’ll plan dates and act like it’s no big deal, but gets upset if you don’t thank him or gush over how great the date is.
Whenever Buggy is sulking, hearing you compliment him or make stupid jokes will cheer him up.
He absolutely loves it when he makes you laugh so hard that your laugh gets wheezy or turns silent and there are tears in your eyes.
Buggy denied that he was falling for you for the longest time. He finally realized it when his Devil Fruit ability ruined a skit and you laughed so hard that you cried. Hearing you say his name while laughing was like Cupid’s arrow to his heart and his body ended up falling apart again.
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strawberryfairi · 4 months
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Falling Asleep Together | Keisuke Baji
★Black Fem Reader One shot❤️‍🔥 ★ Fluff; Baji being demanding and pouty; you just trying to do your hair for the night; nighttime routine; sleepy Baji; pure cuteness
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"What are you doing in there still?" Keisuke groans from the bedroom, dragging himself over to the connected bathroom where you were still doing your nighttime routine.
"I told you hold on; I'll be there in a sec." You chuckle, eyes locked onto your hair through the mirror.
All you were doing was putting up your hair for the night, braiding multiple sections so you could protect your hair while you sleep, and then take them down in the morning back into your fluffy afro braid out.
"It's been like fifteen minutes; you're in here havin' a whole...spa treatment." He scrunches his face up trying to find the right descriptive word, gesturing around the whole bathroom with a hand.
"It ain’t been no fifteen minutes. I got like maybe three pieces left so just hang on; almost done." You assure with a light laugh, getting to work splitting a big section of hair into two in the front.
"You always love my hair but you hate when I gotta actually do it." You murmur, glancing over at his tired, pouty face. He grunts in response, leaning his head against the doorframe while watching you do your thing.
Even though it bothers Kei, you really love moments like this with him, when he's all eager and whiny for you to come to bed. Usually after his rushing he'll go silent just like right now, watching you skillfully braid your hair, mesmerized at how meticulous you are.
He's learned the process by now. First you make the main sections, then part them again for two chunky braids per section. Then you grab your favorite Jamaican black castor oil water, misting your hair lightly in the section before you add that amazing smelling leave-in conditioner that he loves to sniff every time you use it.
Once those two main steps are done, you rub some Argan oil in your hands and run it through your hair before finally making the braid.
He had to admit he could absolutely never spend this much time on his own hair every single day and night. In his eyes, the nighttime routine alone was ridiculously long, and particular, and just..long!
Keisuke's never really been a patient kind of guy, so having someone like you around was honestly good for him. You were patient with everything. Your hair, your nails, cooking, even patient with him! It's one of the main things he loves about you. You level him out, it's perfect.
"Look, see? Boom. That wasn't that long at all; I'm done!" You beam, turning around to look at him face to face instead of through the mirror.
Your hands were covered in product, along with that brush he always seems to forget the name of-dannin? Debberman? Denman! Right the denman brush. Pieces of your little coils wrapped around the brush and your fingers like snakes.
Keisuke grunts tiredly in response, his eyes halfway open at this point. If he could sleep standing up he absolutely would be passed out right in this doorway.
"You're a mess..." You smile softly, shaking your head as you turn the sink faucet on, washing the products off your hands and hairbrush.
About five minutes after you clean up in the bathroom, you're finally in the bed, putting your scarf and cute lime green bonnet on.
"Sheesh, only took forever and a day." Kei grumbles lowly, brows furrowed as he pulls you down onto the pillow next to him, cuddling up close against you with your back resting perfectly on his chest. The two of you sigh in content, little tired smiles on both of your faces as you drift off into a deep sleep.
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A/N❤️‍🔥 I felt so warm and fuzzy writing this omg. Poor Kei just trynna go to sleep for real
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andhumanslovedstories · 8 months
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any advice for nursing students/new nurses?
When you buy a stethoscope, get it engraved with your name, I literally cannot tell you how much that has saved my ass. All stethoscopes look the exact same, even if you think you got a unique looking one, and they're super easy to lose, and they're a hundred plus bucks. engraved!!
There's literally so many acronyms, and everyone assumes the acronyms they know are universal, and no one is correct. Get comfortable with the phrase "remind me what [x] stands for" when someone rattles off a string of letters you don't recognize. (sometimes the person talking to you doesn't know either! whoops!!)
Ask questions all the time actually. This is the ideal time to do so and everyone will be scared if you don't.
For straight cathing patients, you can usually get a lidocaine gel that numbs the urethra, which helps with discomfort. Also for straight cathing patients, if they have a vagina, make sure you visualize the urethra before you start the whole process. You don't want to have to find it later when you're sterile and can't touch anything.
If you've never used a bed pan, it is surprisingly much harder than you would expect. familiarize yourself with them before you have to place one for the first time.
At the end of every shift, find one thing you can point at that you did and were proud of. You can be proud of helping a patient get up and walk. You can be proud that your patient's pain never got above a 4. You can be proud that you helped out another nurse's patients while they were dealing with an admit. You can be proud that you didn't get visibly mad at a patient who was screaming at you. You can be proud that you got to the end of the shift and everyone is alive. You can be proud that you realized you were in over your head and called for help. Find something each shift to be proud of, and the corollary to that is behave in ways that make it easier to be proud of yourself when you look back at the way you spent your shift
get good shoes.
prioritize sleep.
meal prep
pick a few things about yourself that are harmless, not at all intimate small talk. I also have a few fun facts about myself that I love to talk about but don't overstep any boundaries (stuff like that I'm from Virginia, that I'm part of float pool so I can tell you how this room compares to others in the hospital, I have dyed hair and people love talking about that). Draw boundaries to be personable but not inappropriate. Genuinely, practice small talk. You have small talk when things are going fine so you can have Big Talk when someone's breaking down crying or starts screaming in the hallway or wants to leave against medical advice or is furious that their visitors are gonna get searched on the way in. Build rapport before you need rapport.
Sort of similar to the last one, I try to care very deeply about my patients on shift and then forget about them when I go home. I debrief with my mom or Cyrus or my journal, and then I take a shower. The shower is my mental reset time. I tuck my nursona away and emerge as just some dipshit in a towel. Find whatever ritual helps you end your shift.
there are many ways to be a good nurse. sometimes you need a hardass. sometimes you need a cheerleader. sometimes you need a goofball. sometimes you need someone who doesn't chit chat but will always get your teeth brushed, your hands washed, and your hair braided before breakfast can even get to the floor, no matter how shortstaffed the floor is. sometimes you need someone who will talk to you at three in the morning about what the dying process is like. it is impossible to be all things to all patients. as a new nurse, you start by focusing on basic minimal competency, but pay attention to what parts of the job energize you, what parts come easy to you, and lean into those. get competent at the things you are bad at, get passionate about the things you are good at, and you'll have a better chance of building a nursing practice that you can keep up with the shit times start.
the shit times can start anytime but oooh boy do they tend to arrive at your six month mark.
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nsharks · 1 year
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part three —other parts
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: let's build some relationships :)
From behind a tree, your eyes narrow with concentration as you draw the string of your bow. The feel of it in your hands offers satisfaction; you used to love new makeup, blushes and creams, or sweet custards from the market. Now, you love a good weapon.
Is there anything Ghost doesn’t know how to do? And you thought Paul had skillful hands.
You’re not sure exactly where Ghost and Blue have gone, because after leading you out the gate of their camp, Blue showing you the exact maze of steps needed to avoid their booby traps, they went their own way. Again, they disappeared among the white trees. You were left to pick a direction and stick with it. So you ended up here, the opposite way of the pond, with your eyes finally catching sight of a small deer. A fawn.
It’s young but perfect.
The blood that courses through its limbs switches on the predator part of your brain. It will be enough to keep you fed for at least a week, perhaps more, and promote the healing of the wound that aches with each shift of your waist. You inhale, exhale. The arrow is ready to release.
A single gunshot rings out.
Straight through the fawn’s eye.
It doesn’t even have time to cry out as it falls over, a small thud filling the quiet air. Your heart skips a beat and your eyes flicker in the direction of the gunshot, but you already know who has stolen this kill from you. In the distance, you see his bulky form, the lowering of his rifle, and then you see the girl bounce down from a tree and whirl towards the dead animal.
Are you kidding me?
You want to snarl and sneer. Instead, you flare your nostrils while lowering your bow. Meters away, Blue kneels down by the deer and you see her gently mouth words to its corpse. Perhaps, a childish parting that helps her feel better about its death. Ghost arrives and bends down to Blue’s level, and you can’t see his mouth with the mask on, but you know he is speaking to her by how he gestures his gloved hand around.
You’ll have to find another animal.
Squirrels aren’t your favorite meal. They’re not much compared to the taste of venison. But if you char squirrel meat just enough, it can get a nutty flavor that, with your eyes closed, you can pretend is a juicy slab of chicken home-roasted by your mother.
There is no room to be picky.
There is no room for wants anymore, only needs, and from behind the tree, you move your gaze to spot a grey squirrel that will be enough for the day’s needs. You take aim again. You’d put your washed hair in two French braids to keep the strands from interfering, but without ties, they are starting to come undone at the ends. There was a time when you cared about the fashion of your hair. Now, styling is a tactical choice.
Squirrels are trickier. They are small and require greater marksmanship than you are confident you have. Archery was never something you did until the world bled grey and demanded it of you.
The animal flicks its bushy tail, prancing about over thick tree roots. You wait for the moment it stills.
“How’s it going?” someone says, and you jump back in a step, fingers nearly slipping and releasing the arrow off at the ground.
Blue. You whirl around to see that she’s snuck up in a tree behind you, nimble and light on her feet, with curiosity filling her eyes as she sits perched on a branch, one that would be too high for you to ever climb. Her brown hair is hidden under her hood, the tip of her nose flushed pink from the air, and she rubs her hands together to brush off the crumbs of tree bark. Her movements remind you of the squirrel.
It takes a moment for your muscles to soften. You glance back at the squirrel and it’s already scampered off.
“Going great,” you tell her flatly, sighing through your nose. You can be patient with her. She’s nice, young. She’d snuck you extra food. “Shouldn’t you be with Ghost?”
“I’m just stopping by to tell you that we’re leaving. And—“ she squints her eyes in the distance for a moment, “That there’s a couple of those fucks due south.”
Those fucks.
Lovely. You glance around at the unfamiliar trees. From down here, you don’t see anything, but from her vantage point, her scope of sight is better for scouting threats.
“They’re pretty far off. Just be careful, okay?”
“Thanks. I will,” you nod.
Her bright stare then flickers to your braids. “You did your hair... What are those called again?”
She frowns, searching for the word somewhere in a corner of her young brain. You’re surprised that a ten-year-old girl doesn’t know what French braids are; they’d been all you wore as a kid. But then you realize her normal life came to an end at age five. Perhaps many of the memories have faded, replaced with more useful knowledge that her father has had to stuff in there.
You swallow. “Braids?”
“Braids,” she repeats, tasting the foreign word with a click of her tongue. “Right. They look really cool on you.”
“These ones are pretty shitty because I don’t have anything to keep them in.”
Blue starts to say, "Maybe you could—"
But a gruff call cuts through the trees, beckoning her head to turn.
"Blue. Let's go."
Your own eyes follow the voice and land on Ghost some odd paces away. He is already staring at you through lidded eyes, a palpable energy rolling off his body in waves that you can feel even from this distance. Over his shoulders, he carries the fawn with ease. Large palms clasping the knobby ankles. A steady drip of its blood creates a red stain in the snow beside his boot.
He looks horrific. A smear of crimson on the skull. Dressed in all black, carrying a dead animal as if it is nothing. You recall how he'd pushed you to the ground like you were nothing, too. You swallow the thought.
Before you can even look back at Blue, she's already gone. Whirling down from the branch and running over, following in his footsteps as they head back.
It takes another agonizing hour but you manage to kill a squirrel. The Greys don’t find you, luckily. You stuff your coat pockets with some pine needles and decide to call it a meal, knowing that you will have to hunt again tomorrow.
This area of the forest is still new. In your brain, you’ve already etched some markers to find your way back: the pond where they found you, a circle of pine trees to the right of their camp with a big stump in the center, a small creek past the hill. But the way you return back today leads to you approaching the camp from the backside, and you notice something.
Behind the cabin is something covered in a big black tarp. The tarp is peppered with fallen twigs and snow, but still, you think you make out the shape of a vehicle underneath.
They have a car—?
Irritation finds you. How did Ghost manage such things? A goddamn cabin, a deep trench that you assume he dug all by himself. And now a car. Did he also have petrol stored somewhere? By the looks of it, the tarp hasn’t been moved in a while. What is the car for? Is this what he uses to get medicine from the cities?
You almost scoff as your boots crunch the snow.
You won’t have any of our medicine.
There hasn’t even been a chance to consider how you might fend for some yourself. 
For now, you will just focus on food.
Ghost has tied the deer upside down on a branch by the time you are back. You carefully recall the way through their traps. Blue has to unlock the bolted gate for you, but then she runs back to Ghost, who hands a thick blade to her.
“Go on, then, kid.”
“I hate this part,” she mumbles, but he lifts her up so she can reach the knife to the animal’s hind legs, beginning to skin the hide top-down. She wears a concentrated expression as she does so, nose scrunched, and you can tell that skinning deer is a skill her small hands have practiced before. 
Ghost is the one to butcher it.
You skin your squirrel. 
They use the fireplace for cooking, and of course, their dinner is prepared first. While you wait, you undo your braids and snack on the pine needles. Blue is surprisingly quiet, helping her dad cook a little and playing with Grim on the floor, but also flickering her gaze to you every minute or so. 
“Your hair is curly now,” she comments softly during dinner. “From the braids?”
“That happens when you take them out,” you say after swallowing a piece of meat. There’s nothing to wipe your hands on, so you use your trousers as a napkin. Your mother would’ve had a fit. 
“Do you…” you clear your throat, glancing at Ghost and then back to the girl. “Do you want me to braid your hair after dinner?”
She nods sheepishly, but Ghost huffs out a low breath. “I could do that for you, Blue.”
“Ghost,” she sighs. “You don’t know how.”
“How hard can it be?”
But Blue licks her lips and shakes her head, mumbling, “I want her to do it. She’s good at it.”
The way Ghost looks at you is rarely anything but uncomfortable. However, when you sit down on the rug with Blue, your hands finding purchase in her hair, his eyes seem to burn holes through your body deeper than any time before. It is as if letting someone touch his daughter physically sickens him, and causes his breathing to turn weighted and deep. He begrudgingly allows it but supervises, sitting on the couch as you begin braiding her hair. 
Grim sits in her lap. She strokes his fur.
“You have pretty hair,” you tell her.
Blue softly wonders, “How can hair be pretty?”
“I… I don’t know,” you say. “The color, the length. It’s just pretty, I think.”
“Ghost cuts it for me,” she says, turning to look at him.
“Wait, don’t move. It’ll mess me up.”
“Oh, sorry,” she turns back but continues. “He gets it wet and has me lay my head on the tree stump so it’s all flat. Then, he chops it off with his knife. Right, Ghost?”
His response is a low hum. It’s stiff, pushing through a tense jaw.
You finish the two French braids, running your fingers over them.
"I don't have anything to tie them, but they look really nice on you."
It is then that Ghost stands up and disappears for a minute. When he returns, he has a roll of black thread that you believe he used for your stitches.
With the knife from his belt, he cuts two pieces, bends down, and silently offers them to your palm. Blue lights up. You tie off the braids and she stands, toying with them happily, and asking her dad what he thinks. Finally, you notice his shoulders soften.
"Beautiful," he murmurs quietly, just for her. He strokes the braided hair and then gives a gentle brush of his thumb over her cheek. "Always look beautiful, Baby Blue."
"Don't—" her cheeks flush and she briefly flashes her eyes to you, "Don't call me that."
"Used to call you it all the time,” he grumbles. “Gettin' too old for it, are you?"
What you learn Blue isn't too old for is curling up with him on the couch. This is the first night you stay in the cabin after dinner rather than retreating to your shed, simply because they've left some embers in the fireplace for warmth. You sit on the floor beside it. Blue sits with Ghost and he pulls out a book to read quietly to her.
You try not to look.
It touches you in a way you didn't think it would. It seems so normal. For a moment, you imagine a world where things could be different. A world where Blue wore braids to school every day. A world where Ghost could pick a new book out, rather than read the same ones over and over. A world where, maybe, you could have a family of your own, rather than be an uncomfortable witness to theirs.
But your family is nothing now. You never even knew what happened to your parents. The end arrived when you were away from them. No wifi. No service. Whether they died or turned Grey, you could never be certain. A pit in your gut told you their end happened years ago.
You’re brought out of your daze when Ghost stands from the couch. Blue has fallen asleep. He carries the girl to her room, and you take it as a sign to leave for your place outside. 
But before you can open the door, his voice stops you, dropping down to an even lower octave.
“Hold on.”
You turn. “What?”
“We need to talk.”
Despite the warmth from the fireplace, your blood goes icy rigid. You stand there and press your lips. “If this is about the braids, then I won’t do it again. I was just trying to be nice.”
“No. Not that,” and he holds your stare, unwavering, “It’s about your old camp. The other day, you said there were… hoards of ‘em.” 
The words roll off his tongue thoughtfully as if this is something that has been mulling over in that brain of his for a while. Thoughts belonging to a skull. A ghost. A father. 
Ghost continues gruffly, “Where were you?”
“West of here,” you say. “Jesus, I think, at least. I couldn’t really tell where I was going.”
“How far?”
“Far, but not that far.” Your eyes drift to the floor. “By the forest’s edge.”
“We don’t see that many of them here,” Ghost mutters. This might be the most he’s spoken to you in five days. “Only ever a few at a time. Ten at the most.”
“That’s how it was for us. But more came, and then,” you exhale, “And then there were too many.”
Your eyes close, recalling the frantic manner in which you escaped. The last glimpse of your old life had been the mangled arm of your sister, thick bites cutting down to white bone. In a way, you were glad there were enough of them to kill her.
Your eyes reopen. “We should’ve had an escape plan, something for emergencies. We got too complacent after making it for so long.”
All Ghost says is, “Yeah. You should have.”
And then he is dismissing you with a lazy wave of his hand, turning to give you his back. You scowl, roll your eyes as he is not looking, and leave the cabin. Your spine already aches before you even lay down on the floorboards for the night.
You wonder if Ghost has his own emergency plans; what would have to happen for him to abandon this perfect setup? How would he do it? The memory of the car out back finds you as you drift off. But your sleep that night is haunted by terrible, grey dreams.
It usually is.
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Hunting on your own is different than hunting with Paul. There's some learning to do. You have to study the tracks on your own and observe the marks of antlers against the trees. For the first week, you don't get a single deer. Only squirrels. One skinny hare. Ghost and Blue don't go with you; the fawn, rabbits, and stored cans and jars hold them over.
Most evenings are spent braiding Blue's hair. I like the way it feels, she claims. Ghost gets used to it. He still watches from the couch but rather than stiffly staring, he lays down and relaxes, placing a hand over his chest.
The next time they go hunting, Blue's hair is still woven in the French braids when you catch an interesting sight through the cabin's window. She stands on the dining chair to reach Ghost's mask, peeling it off. You can only see the back of his head: brown hair, chopped short.
So there is a human under that thing?
She sets the mask on the table and picks up a clean one. A different one.
When they come out, Ghost with his guns and Blue with her knives, he appears more like a father than a character from a horror film. There is no plastic skull. Instead, a cutout in the fabric reveals the tops of his temples and the strong bridge of his nose. You would never say it, but you prefer this one.
Blue must catch your staring because she tells you, "The other one was starting to smell. I made him change."
"Good call," you quip under your breath.
Again, you go your separate ways. You head for the pond. You think you can hear them somewhere nearby, but ignore it, focusing on the deer prints in the snow. It's hard to tell if they're fresh. It hasn't snowed in two days.
Your footsteps quiet to a halt when you hear light crunching sounds. Another living thing is close by. You take position behind a thick pine, eyes scanning the wooded area and the pond to the right of you. But you know the sound of deer, and you're starting to learn the sound of Blue.
She's scampering towards the pond, just her. You can't see Ghost. As protective as he can be, he allows the girl some length to her leash. Offers bite-sized moments of independence. She's allowed to play in the tree just outside their camp before sundown, but only if he is watching. So you imagine he has let her run off ahead only because he is somewhere nearby.
From the distance, you watch her lurch for a squirrel.
She is quick about it.
Grabs the neck, and holds it up. A quick slice to the jugular. Blood seeps. She frowns, closing her eyes and murmuring something that, in the quietness, you think is along the lines of: I'm sorry. Tried to make it quick for you.
And then she begins to skin it, right then and there.
Young, nimble hands taught to survive.
As she does so, you decide you've seen enough. You have your own food to find.
But as you move from the tree, your eyes drift to find another watcher. A form takes shape behind a distant oak, near the pond. Your heart spikes; a Grey? But no— a Grey would already be running towards her scent. This shape belongs to a human, a withered man with hair that juts out in grey clumps, and crazed eyes pointed right at her.
More so, a revolver pointed.
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taglist: @cool-0-n @savagemistresss @morganvoorhees @dinsverdika @cated18 @lolszass @jeswiii @all-good-things-have-an-ending @alternatealt @uvoiid @underatreedrinkingtea @ramadiiiisme @crissteetee67 @lexi-zsy09 @spikespiegell @littlezarp @rebel-soldat @4headkissess @mckenzieriley69 @moxxiestar @palomaxaxaxa @msjaeger
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lum13 · 1 year
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Pretty
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The night of the havoc, it was all a mess. You begged to differ.
Wednesday Addams x fem! Reader
“Hey, you.” You smiled wearily, making your way towards the raven haired girl who was seated on the ground, her head against a tree. The police had come a few minutes after the incident, and now everything in the campus is being checked for safety reasons, leaving the students of nevermore with no dorms to rest in for the next few hours.
“Hi.” She replied, giving you a glance as you sat down next to her. You played with the edge of your sleeves— something that you did when you were anxious, Wednesday knew. 
“Crackstone is gone.” She said firmly. “There’s no need to be scared now.” 
You let out a tired laugh, shaking your head as you did so. “I know.” You said, “It’s just— everything is so crazy, you know?”
The girl hummed in reply. You sighed, leaning your head onto her shoulder. Her back straightened up, yet she didn’t pull away.
“Still can't believe Miss Thornhill turned on us like that, though. I really liked her.” You frowned, bringing your legs to your chest as you wrapped your arms around it. You felt her gaze onto you, which made you lift your head from her shoulders to meet her eyes.
“Never trust anyone.” The girl stated, “It’s the number one rule in all the murder mystery novels.”
“You didn’t trust anyone while investigating? Even me?” You grinned teasingly, “I’m hurt, Wednesday Addams.” You clutched your chest dramatically, letting out a giggle as she rolled her eyes at your childish act.
“Don't be foolish.” She said, “there were no reasons to  believe that you were the one behind all of this. You’re too soft, naive-“ 
“Hey!” You defended, pouting. “I could kill someone if I wanted to!” 
“I doubt it.” She said, making you roll your eyes playfully.
And without a thought, your eyes scanned over her face— which was covered in dirt and is clearly needing some washes— 
“I love you.” Came your response, surprising both of you. It wasn’t the first time you said those words— but the comment was something that slipped from your mouth without thinking, which was unexpected from the both sides.
But it wasn’t like it wasn’t true— so you decided to go with it. 
“You’re so pretty.”
She looked away. You brought your hand on her cheeks, leading her gaze back to you. 
“I am a mess.” She said, referring to the dried blood on her forehead, her caked bangs, and the little twigs sticking out of her tousled braids. 
“The prettiest mess.” You grinned, reaching down to find her hand in yours, before bringing it up to your mouth.
Her palm brushing on your lips, you gave her little kisses— sending shivers down her spine. Your tender lips on her palm felt like a butterfly fluttering its wings against her skin. She hated the feelings of it— and the feelings she felt because of it.
Yet she couldn’t pull away. Only God knows what kind of things you did to her.
-
A quick Drabble before going to sleep. I love Wednesday and her soft heart <3
This was also inspired by a prompt that I’ve found on Pinterest
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lunajay33 · 1 month
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Enjoy the Silence🌪️Part.2
Summary: Things in your past has driven you to be silent but will someone be able to break that shell, will someone finally listen to you(might make this into a series!)
Part.1
•Masterlist•
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After supper everyone said their good nights and went to their own rooms, me and Daryl walked down stairs about to get ready for bed
“Ya can use the bathroom first” he said as he walked in his room probably getting a change of clothes from the ones he wore now full of sweat and dirt but I never minded
I got a change of clothes myself, picking out my only pair of pajamas, some grey sweatpants and an oversized black shirt I found in a run down house while on the road after terminus
I went to the wash room changing, then washing my face with cold water, talking so much today probably didn’t seem like much to the others but for me after so long it was a lot mentally of course
I looked at my self in the mirror, thinking about Daryl
“Oh my god” I whispered feeling the tears well up in my eyes as the reflection in the mirror looked back at me, this mess of a human I hated to look at, Daryl was amazing so generous and deserved the world why would he waste time to get me clothes, to make me feel welcomed, I don’t deserve it, that’s what I was taught I deserve nothing I’m useless
The tears rolled down my face as my lip trembled, the faces of all the people that hurt me flash in my mind
“Ya okay in there?” Daryl asked knocking from the other side of the door
I quickly dried my face opening the door looking at a concerned Daryl
“Ya okay?” He asked looking at my obvious red eyes
I nodded not wanting to bother him he had enough to worry about
“Peach…….can I call ya that?”
I nodded feeling those butterflies
“Peach I know yer lyin, what’s wrong?” He said brushing my hair back and keeping his hand on my check that I leaned into loving its warmth
“It hurts” I whispered as my voice broke
He didn’t go to check me over for injuries, he just knew what I meant, I leaned into him laying my head against his chest and he quickly wrapped his arms around me holding me gently, running his hand through my hair
It had been so long since someone held me, since I was a kid and it felt so good to know someone cared, the tears continued to fall u til I couldn’t cry anymore
I pulled back looking at him as he wiped my tears away
“Want me ta stay with ya tonight? Can sleep on the couch but I’ll be there” he asked
I nodded heading to my room, he changed in the bathroom and came to my room where I already had a makeshift bed made on the couch for him, the couch was horizontal to my bed resting on the same wall so he was technically right by my bed which gave me some peace knowing he was right there
He plopped down on the couch covering up and leaning back in his arm behind his head looking over at me facing him as I wrapped my blankets around myself
“Thank you” I said as he had a little smile at that
“Goodnight peach”
“Goodnight”
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I woke up with a bit of a headache, always happened after crying the night before, I sat up rubbing my eyes trying to ease the pain then I heard a groan coming from my right
I looked to the couch completely forgetting Daryl stayed in my room last night
“Mornin” he groaned sitting up
I smiled as I got up getting the pair of grey shorts he got me and the green shirt, heading to the washroom to change and braid my hair back so it was t falling in my face all day
When I came out of the bathroom I bumped into Daryl and he held my arms so I didn’t fall back
“Sorry”
“Don’t worry…….ya feelin better?”
I shrugged my shoulders looking away from him embarrassed
“You helped a bit” I said feeling my face warm
“Good, I’ll meet ya upstairs” he said walking past me to the bathroom
Michonne Rick and Carl were already sat at the kitchen table filling their plates, I sat down and put some strawberries on my plate and two pieces of toast
“Sleep good?” Michonne asked
I nodded as I motioned to her
“We slept good, Judith slept through the whole night so we didn’t have to get up” she smiled seeming refreshed
Daryl came up sitting next to me taking some toast and bacon, the usual thing he’d eat, beside the occasional squirrel
“What do you guys got planned for today?” Rick asked as he fed Judith some mushed up blueberries
“Gonna take my bike out, saw a bike shop on the drive back yesterday, wanna look fer some parts”
I shrugged my shoulders since today was my day off from gardening
Daryl leaned closer
“Wanna come with me?”
I leaned closer to his ear cupping my hand around his ear
“I’d love to” when I leaned back to normal the others at the table had a shocked look
“You actually talk?” Carl asked his eyes wide
I nodded feeling extremely nervous now, maybe one day I’d come around to talking to them but it’s not the same feeling as talking to Daryl, I didn’t feel pressure with Daryl but once I talked to the others that’s all they’ll expect of me
“It’s new” Daryl said jumping to my rescue
“Why Daryl?” Rick asked with a little smirk
My face exploded in warmth and I knew it was red, I was still confused on this feeling I have for Daryl maybe I should ask Maggie or something
“Ummm it’s getting late we should all head out to our duties” Michonne said getting up and clearing the table probably trying to change the subject
I got my to go bag, knife and gun and met Daryl infront of the house already waiting on the bike, he handed me a helmet
“What about you?”
“Don’t need one now get on” he said as I quickly put the helmet on and sat behind him wrapping my arms around his waist
“Be careful please” I heard him laugh as he revved up the bike and we were off
It wasn’t a long drive but it was relaxing, the hum of the motorcycle and his smell of woods and cigarettes enveloping me I rested my head against his back and held him tighter until we got to the shop, he shut off the engine and helped take of my helmet
“So what are we looking for?” I asked not really knowing anything about mechanical stuff
“Tools, some bolts, just thought we’d take a look” he said rummaging through some drawer
I found a section that was biker-ish clothes, I found some fingerless leather gloves thinking they’d be perfect for Daryl, then I found a sticker with a skull and bones maybe he’d like it for his bike
“Find anything?” He asked from behind me
“Ya” I nodded handing the things over
I saw a little smile as he pulled in the gloves
“Fight great, I found what I needed we should head home” he said taking my hand and leading me back out to the bike
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We got home and went to take watch before supper, standing in the sun was actually nice, especially being with Daryl
“Can I ask ya somethin?” Daryl asked breaking the silence
I nodded waiting for the question
“What happened to ya?”
The question put a weight on my chest like I couldn’t breathe as my heart sped up and all those bad memory plagued my mind
“It’s okay, ya don’t gotta tell me” he said as he saw my anxiety bubble up
He deserved to know, of all people he’d understand
“I’ve never had someone show me how to love, I’ve never felt it from anyone and I don’t even know what it’s like, that feeling people talk about I can’t even relate, all I’ve felt is being called useless, waste of space, awful things………some people I thought wouldn’t even hurt me did, verbally……physically, I see their faces every night, I haven’t had a full night sleep until well…… you got my the clothes and last night, I thought if I just shut myself off and didn’t let anyone in they couldn’t hurt me anymore, but I wanted to let you in because you know…….you understand” I said finally putting my feelings out there, most I’ve spoken in forever
He looked at me and I saw that sad look on his eyes as he squinted from the sun
He took my arms and pulled me into a hug, holding me gently
“I ain’t gonna let those bastard haunt ya anymore” he pulled me back to look into my eyes
“Ya listen ta me, yer worth it, yer strong ya made it this far and they’re probably dead, ya deserve ta live ya deserve ta let go and feel, ya deserve to feel loved and every emotion, I know I ain’t the best person fer this but….i can help ya, teach ya ta let go” he said rubbing my cheek with his hand
“Please” I pleaded wanting to finally let go, it might be a slow process but I don’t want those bastards to still dictate my life, I want this I want my new family to really know me, i was scared but I had to put my self out there as long as Daryl was there
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The first part really went off I hope you guys like this part!!
Taglist: @deansapplepie @in-this-minute
Part.3<-
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scholastic-dragon · 1 year
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In the rainy day head cannons you wrote you said that donnie would invite you to his shower or bath, would you be open to going into more detail with that in headcannons or a oneshot ?
You got it!
Donnie x Gn!reader
Showering with Donnie
Donnie loves taking long hot showers (or baths) after a tough day. They really relax him and he goes all out every time.
He's got exfoliating brushes and scrubs that smell heavenly together and it's one of the few times he shuts his brain off to just be in the moment.
But when you're there it's even better. He loves washing your hair, it's so soft and strange, he's never felt anything like it.
His heart melts if you ask to use his body wash and scrubes, for you it's probably cause it's the only thing in the shower to wash yourself with, but to him it means you want to smell like him :)
The best way to describe what y'all talk about in the shower is pillow talk. He asks about your day, what your favorite flavor of pop tart is, what your favorite brand of shampoo is, everything.
He likes standing with your back to the water with his arms around your waist holding you close <3
But if yall are in the bath....he turns into an octopus.
They got a big ass tub in the lair and he can (just about) fit in it. You're sitting in between his legs (yes they are slightly wrapped around your own with his knees bent) and his arms around your chest and waist holding you to his chest.
And no, you cannot move.
No matter where you are, he likes nuzzling and kissing your shoulders and neck.
But if you lean over and kiss the juncture of his neck
Heart rate 📈📈📈📈📈📈
Be prepared if you ask him about his mental health, he will ramble and ramble. He feels so relaxed and for a few moments all his walls come down and he can finally phrase all the stuff thats running around in his brain.
After you get out, he has all the skin care products someone could own. You don't have to do them with him but he adores the idea of doing face masks together.
You have matching bathrobes :)
Let 👏 him 👏 do 👏 your 👏 hair
Brushing it, putting leave-in-conditioner, or moose or any kind of cream he is 100% on board and will do anything and everything you ask.
He's also pretty good at braiding, he's got the messy bun look down
He melts like putty in your arms if you rub lotion on his face or if you have those face roller thingys.
Donnie really likes being pampered and has no problem returning the favor :)
tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox @strawberrycakeblog
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foreverbloodmoon · 2 months
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Post Arguement With THG Characters
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Warnings : Arguement, crying, fighting, tears, toxic relationships, NON-SEXUAL NUDITY!!! (Minor safe)
Notes : I finished this but it didn’t save, gonna go cry
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Finnick Odair
You guys fought after the announcement of the quell, refusing to let one another go back in
You tried to defuse the situation but Finnick kept yelling and yelling
All you wanted was to go in instead of Mags or Annie
Finnick wanted to go back in if you did, to protect you.
Both hated the idea of losing each other again
Tears pricked your eyes as you ran out the house in blind rage, not knowing where you were going
You found a new spot along the coast and sat waist deep, not caring about the salty water soaking your clothes
Finnick locked himself in the bathroom, head in his hands
He hated the fact that he yelled at you and especially because you were crying and he was blinded with rage
You dove under the water, holding you breath for longer than you shoulder before rising back up
You did this over and over
When Finnick realized he needed to apologize, he instantly ran out to find you
He started panicking when you weren’t at your usual spot
Eventually, he found you, heaving for air as you broke the surface, clothes soaked and hair tangled
Reluctantly (and after Finnick begging) you went back home where he held you tight, whispering apologies over and over
You guys shared a warm shower after, helping each other wash each other’s hair
Finnick detangled and braided your hair back
You slept comfortably in Finnick’s arms that night
Peeta Mellark
You and Peeta were dating before the games
Working in the bakery together, studying, anything
The day of the reaping, when you heard Peeta’s name get called, something in you died
You sobbed for days watching Peeta kiss Katniss through the screen, he’d fallen in love with someone else
Betrayal.
When Peeta and Katniss came back to district 12, you ignored Peeta completely, only ever seeing him around town
Eventually, Peeta came to your house, begging you to understand
You guys got into a huge argument which ended up in you walking out the house and into the hob, the place that felt more like home than your actual one.
You sat at Greasy Sae’s stand while she went along selling soup.
You and Greasy Sae had a strong bond, since she took care of you when you were younger
Of course, Peeta found you again but this time, he’d convinced you into coming to the bakery, somewhere to talk more private.
After explaining what had happened, you somewhat believed him, but it still hurt what you saw and it would take a while to completely forgive him.
He seemed so scared, tired, lonely
He begged you to stay the night to which you agreed to
You didn’t let go of each other all night
Johanna Mason
After both of you guys won your games, Johanna started removing herself from the relationship
She was always somewhere in town
Never slept over anymore
Her kisses weren’t the same
Her looks were more bitter
You tried talking to her about it but she brushed it off
Eventually, you snapped
Yelling at Johanna about how you felt so used, ignored and that you didn’t)t think the relationship would work out
You were crying but in front of Johanna, you felt so weak and embarrassed
When Johanna realized what she’d done-even though she really didn’t mean to (she wanted to protect you from Snow) - she felt so bad, like a knife had been plunged into her chest
Hearing your sobs ripped her soul in half
She held you as you sobbed, and though you forgave her, you never fully did
That trust took a long time to be rebuilt
Now, Johanna treated you like a princess- a delicate China
She always slept over
Was always touching you in some way : holding hands, hand in you waist, etc
Her kisses were passionate, genuine
She looked at you in a way no one could describe
She loved you like she loves the sun, her home, breathing.
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fluentmoviequoter · 8 months
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CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR 100 FOLLOWERS!! You work is amazing <33
I would one of Dalton Lambert + prompt 22 if you like ✨️
Thank you so much!
I've been literally waiting for you to write a Dalton imagine like every day since i found your work <33
Thank you!!! I hope you've enjoyed the Dalton fics I've posted and thank you for all of your support and amazing requests! You were the first person to send me a request and one of the reasons I continued writing for Dalton, so I can't thank you enough! I've been hoping someone would request this prompt and had a blast writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it! :)
Warnings: fluff to the nth degree. 0.8k+ words
A/N: Fun fact, I went to a really small high school and was asked at least three times a day to braid someone's hair. However, I have thick and curly hair so no one could braid mine (luckily I can braid my own). For that reason, I let the reader have wet, freshly detangled hair in an attempt to include more hair types for anyone else with hair that's difficult to braid when dry!
Join the 100 Follower Celebration!
Prompt 22: Braiding each other's hair.
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“Yeah, Kali, I promise,” Dalton says into his phone. He looks up and waves as you enter his dorm, mouthing that he will be just a minute.
“Save the picture of the braid you want, and I’ll try my hardest… Yeah… I’ll call him later. Love you, Kali.”
“You can braid hair?” you ask as he ends the call and plugs his phone into the charger.
Dalton nods and beckons you closer, so you stand by his bed. “My little sister Kali loves braids and I learned when we were younger so I could braid her hair for her. My mom was busy, and dad was so forgetful after, you know. I just wanted to help her feel pretty, or whatever.”
As Dalton answers, you are in awe of his thoughtfulness and love for his siblings. He raises his hands to hold your waist and looks up at you.
“Why? Want me to braid yours?” Dalton asks, pinching your sides as he tries to eradicate the seriousness he created with his answer.
“Would you?”
“Seriously?”
You shrug as you point out, “You offered.”
Dalton laughs before he moves back on the bed and pats the spot he moved from. You thank him excitedly before sitting on the bed, giving him full access to your hair.
“I just washed it, so it should be detangled and ready,” you inform as he begins raking his fingers through.
“And wet,” Dalton murmurs.
“That a problem, Lambert? I thought you were a professional.”
“I am,” he answers proudly. “Even when my sister sends me double-knotted reverse Dutch fishtail braids and expects me to be able to do it on the first try.”
He leans closer to you and gathers a section of hair at the top of your head, asking if he can do a French braid.
“My hair is your canvas, my dear artist.”
Dalton says something under his breath before parting your hair and beginning to braid. You allow yourself to relax in the domesticity of it all, and the soothing feeling of Dalton’s fingers in your hair and his warmth against your back only add to the moment’s decompressing qualities.
“Do you have a hair tie?” Dalton asks, snapping you out of your reverie.
“Yes,” you answer, passing the one on your wrist over your shoulder.
Dalton’s fingers brush yours as he takes it, thanking you before he secures the braid. You grab his phone and use the camera to look at the finished braid.
“Dalton, that looks amazing! I can see why Kali keeps asking you to do her hair. It never looks that good when I do it.”
You snap a picture with him before he takes his phone back, rolling his eyes to distract from the smile forming at your praise.
“So, why don’t you ever braid your own hair?” you ask, shifting to face him.
“I can’t. Never learned to braid my own,” Dalton answers, leaning back against the wall.
“Unacceptable. Sit up.”
You stand on his bed and gesture with your hands until he moves forward. You sit behind him, brushing your fingers through his hair.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Braiding your hair.”
“Oh. Uh, thanks.” He hands you a pack of hair ties before returning to his position in front of you.
You hum as you part his hair, opting for two French braids, one on either side of his head. With each piece of hair you add to the braid, Dalton relaxes more. You secure the first braid and notice that Dalton is beginning to lean back involuntarily, and you smile at the thought of being the reason he finally relaxes and enjoys something. The second braid seems to go faster than the first, and soon, you tie it off.
“All done,” you announce quietly.
“Already?” Dalton asks, sounding too tired to speak.
You move out from behind him, opting to sit beside him. When Dalton sees you, he sits up straighter and faces you.
“Yeah. Do you understand the appeal of letting someone else braid your hair now?”
“Mmhmm. Maybe you should do my hair every day.”
“Only if you do mine.”
“I did do a pretty good job,” he says, brushing his fingers over your temple.
“And you look very handsome with braids,” you respond.
The door opens, and you both look over as Chris stands in the open doorway.
“Well, if you’re going to have hair braiding parties without me, I’ll just leave,” Chris says as she tosses something onto the desk and leaves again.
“What was that?” you ask with a laugh.
“Every time she sees a party invite, she brings it to me.”
“You should go and show off your braids.”
“Or I could let them accidentally fall out and we could continue our hair braiding party.”
“Trust me, Dalton, now that I know we can have braiding parties, we will be having them regularly. Besides, you have to learn how to do a double-knotted reverse Dutch fishtail braid before you visit Kali again.”
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grlpartdoll · 2 months
Text
Ok so this is Sort of. Part 2 to this but not really?? It's kind of more like a what-if marvel episode Lol. Soap falls in love with reader and he's the one to pick her back up !! Again 18+ only Pls!!! No filth in this one. Just pure fluff.
Anyway. Soap eventually gets tired of this dynamic. He's your best friend, has been since the very first day you two met. Simon doesn't typically keep you around his friend — but Soap wasn't exactly the type to be told no.
His barely concealed crush on you makes Simon irritated, but it doesn't make others raise eyebrows that much.
It's obvious why someone would fall for you — such a sweet girl, with the kindest, biggest heart around. It was only a matter of time before anyone around you did fall in love with you.
So, anyway, Soap has a pathetic, schoolboy crush on you, and when you're in the throes of sadness and self hatred because of Simon, he's the one to pull you out each time, just until Ghost gets his hands on you, and breaks you all over again.
The first time you sort of notice it is when you come back from a night away with Simon, where he fucked you proper and then left you to sleep alone in his room while he went to the gym.
You come to your own quarters bruised and sloppy and barely able to walk, and Soap practically explodes out of his seat at the realization that you'd been fucked and then dumped like some dirty rag.
So Soap runs you a bath. And it's a little weird, and a little awkward, at first, but he's your best friend, he'd never let anything bad happen to you as long as you're with him.
And sure. His pants make a tent while he washes you. But, "it's only natural, Bonnie. 'm with a pretty girl and she's sitting there, naked, lettin' me soap her. I ken only stupid men wouldn't get hard."
And unlike when you're with Ghost, you don't really feel like it's purely sexual. Simon might have genuine feelings for you — maybe, you don't know — but he'd never shown it to you except for when hes balls deep inside you, whispering about how much he loves you. You feel like Soap actually cares as he drains your bath, gets you all bundled up in a towel and rubs you down nice and slow.
He doesn't mean to, but he kisses a bruise on your shoulder. And you, because you can't really think and because Simon has you still so far into your head, don't even care to try to figure out what it might mean, that he's soothing over your bruises with his lips.
Soap helps you remove the little makeup you have left, cooing at you when you try to do it yourself that you're "jus' such a sleepy girl, let me get that for you, poppet,"
You don't ask how he knows every step of your routine without a single fault. Once you feel fresh and clean again, Soap gets you into bed, and because you're vulnerable and would do anything for warmth that resembles sleeping in Simon's arms, you ask him to stay.
He gives you one of those smiles you hate. You know he's concealing his emotions with a shit-eating grin only because he's given it to Simon when, in a heated argument, he's said something that hurt his feelings.
So Soap doesn't sleep with you. When he's gone, you think you'll cry for a moment, but you don't. Your body doesn't hurt as much, and your heart is just a bit less restless.
Soap, the next day, (or really, the next night, because you spend the day in bed and wake up at an ungodly hour,) makes you food, and doesn't force you to finish your plate. He's just happy to see you eat.
When you're done, he brushes your hair and braids it, and it's so domestic it makes your heart ache. You two go and run together. He pushes when he knows you can do better, but stops when tears threaten to spill over. He pushes you, but knows your limits intimately, and doesn't push them like Simon would. Simon would keep asking for more, keep demanding more of you.
Simon disappears. The days pass slowly, but surely, and Soap begins to catch your little broken pieces one by one. Carefully, he pieces you back up, and you start to feel more human. The morning training helps, and the days spent with Soap and Gaz and your own friends actually starts to make you feel slightly more human — less like a fucktoy that exists for Simon's pleasure.
You're in the resting hall with Soap one day, piecing together a puzzle while he scrolls on his phone, shopping for clothes for when he goes back to visit his mum during his break. You all have a break planned three weeks from now, where Price plans to halt activities for at least a month. And it's nice, to look forward to something, but you honestly can't help but think that you, unlike everyone else, don't have anyone to go back to. Just like Simon. And perhaps that is why you two belong together.
But then he makes an offhanded comment about how he's going to buy a blanket for you, because his car's heating is shit, and he's been meaning to get it fixed, but for now the blanket will have to do while you fulfill your passenger princess duties.
"What?" You make, a bit confused.
He gazes up from his phone, cocking a brow at you. "Thought you'd like it. To spend the holidays with me and my ma. Y'dont got ta. But I'd like to have ya' bonnie."
And you think that that's when you realise that maybe you could love Soap — Johny, and that maybe you could finally have something to go back to.
So you agree, and of course Johny is giddy. In his head, that's finally a step towards you two being together. That's finally a step towards making you his and treating you right. Once the three weeks are up, you pack up your shit and you don't look back.
Simon sends you a text when you're halfway to Soap's mother's house, music blasting, the multiple blankets wrapped around your top and bottom.
Simon : where are you?
Simon : you're not at the barracks.
Simon : your stuff is gone.
Simon : where are you?
You take a while to reply. Not because you don't know how to, but because Soap notices, and snatches your phone. And it makes you laugh for once, and you don't feel like having a breakdown.
Soap manages to snap a photo of him driving, and you grumpily pawing at him for your phone back, and sends it to Simon.
You don't hear from him after that.
Soap's mother is warm and kind and inviting when you're introduced, she holds your hands like her son in a freakishly similar fashion, and kisses the top of them after patting them multiple times.
You tell her your names four times, but she forgets, and instead calls you "love". It's not on her — Soap tells you. Shes forgetful. Tends to forget everything, including taking care of herself. Which is why he wants to come home — before she forgets him, too.
That night, after a warm homecooked dinner and a long movie with hot chocolate and marshmallows, you don't exactly mean to seek out Soap, but there's something about the cold, and you needing to be held, and thinking too much about if Simon is alright. You want to shut it all out.
So you slip quietly into his childhood bedroom, and then under his covers. Soap doesn't even question it, only wraps you all up and presses you up against his naked chest, his deep, Scottish drawl telling you to "Go to sleep, poppet. I've got you."
And he does. When you wake up, he's still there. And he's staring at you. And it's all so much, you feel like your heart might burst in your chest.
You want to kiss him. But you don't. You let him hold you, and pray that if nothing else happens, he might still remain with you after everything, even if you're not willing to give him your body, or your lips.
And he does. After you both shower, he takes you and his mum to a local breakfast restaurant and treats you both to the best food in town. Everyone there somehow knows him, (though only as Johny, and never as Soap) and he makes it his goal to make sure everyone he sees also gets introduced to you.
He wraps an arm around your waist, puffs his chest, and tells everyone you're his best girl, his golden girl, his four-leaf clover. Someone eventually asks about when they'll see a ring on your finger. And before you can retort anything, Soap tells them that he'd sooner or later do it.
You think he's joking. He's not.
He takes you home after a day of outings to small rural markets and an amusement park. That night, when you're in bed, laying next to him, you ask him if he meant that. If he'd really marry you, if it came down to it.
His response doesn't change.
You're not sure if that's why you kiss him. You just know you do. Because if there is one thing you do know, its that you love Soap — your Johny — and that he loves you.
TAG LIST :
@lilliumrorum
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zaimta · 10 months
Text
彡HAIR CARE
parings: usopp, jinbei, brook, x black!reader
zai says: i actually have nothing to say but yk i’m on a grind
ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»
˗ˏˋUSOPP
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i don’t know what kind of growth oil he used during them 2 years but he got inches and loves his hair
with usopp wash day would be the most fun, y’all are always like “i’ll wash my hair when you wash your hair” and then y’all just never do because y’all don’t feel like it or the straw hats run into trouble
the moment y’all have no excuses y’all dread every second of it, usopp helps you part your hair in the places you can’t see so your parts aren’t all tangled when it’s time for you to wash
detangling for usopp is a big hell no, y’all would fight and the amount of combs he’s snapped with his hair is insane, at some point, you got tired and stuck to brushes permanently
he loves sitting in between your thighs when you’re doing his hair, when you’re done he kisses your inner thigh as thanks
cracks jokes about your thighs on either side of his head and you pop him with the comb instead he laughs because it didn’t hurt but he swears the joke was worth it
give him twists!! he would love them as long as they last something about waking up and not having to touch his hair he enjoys it but he goes back to his normal look of wearing his hair out because he loves it
matching bonnets, he made them for y’all because he saw some bonnets at a store and they were so damn expensive
adores your hair and if you have dreads he helps you with your retwists, i feel like he would know how to braid hair so he would pop off on cornrows if you wanted those
˗ˏˋJINBEI
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takes great care of his hair i mean have you seen what this man is workin with
if you don’t feel like tying up your hair he’ll do it for you, master of slick back buns he did it for you once and you never went back
you cannot make the “i’ll wash my hair when you do” promise with this man because when he says this he’s going to wash his hair so if you’re planning to stall another day it’s simply not happening
his scalp massages are top fucking tier, makes you completely forget you’re washing your hair and you feel so relaxed
he has no problem washing his hair but if you decide to wash his hair for him he is very grateful
sometimes he swears he can’t do certain things with his hair so you could do it for him, either that or he completely gets straight to the point and hands you the hairbrush
he is a decent braider, because of his thick fingers he can’t get a precision braid but he can do twists and bigger braids
when you’re sleeping on him and your bonnet slips off he adjusts it for you while your sleeping, ever since y’all got together your bonnet stopped going on vacation
˗ˏˋBROOK
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it would be the simple acts that get him sentimental like he hasn’t had someone help him out with his hair in decades so it does get to him a little
you’re the only one he trusts to touch his hair, his hair is very precious to him so that says a lot
you would sit there and detangle his hair and the comb goes through so easily you think you’re crazy you sitting there like
“what…” every time the comb goes through because somebody gotta be lyin
when it comes to wash day he’s on top of it, there’s a specific day when he washes his hair and whenever he’s going to he asks if you want to join him
his hair would absorb water like it’s nothing but his hair would also be very soft like his hair is out here shining
when it comes to picking out fros he’s the best, usopp comes to him when he wants his puff to look nice he be bringing out inches you didn’t even know you had
bonnet believer, usopp made him one and he never went back he doesn’t know how he lived without it
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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 10 months
Note
Do one of reader is Uhtred’s daughter and fell in love with sihtric. Marry him in secret and Uhtred ends up freaking out when he finds out but then accepts. With smut is a cute scene from Uhtred's future with his grandson!
Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, Sihtric's breeding kink…
Pairing: Sihtric x you (f)
Summary: see request!
Word count: 2,7k
Note: so, the ages don't add up if you look at the series and books, but then SKMD also ignored the character's ages, so just go with the flow here ;) thank you for your request! I hope you like it! I added a few more grandchildren though because... well... it's Sihtric lmao
taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us @valeskafics
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'Only for you, my wife, my goddess.'
******************
'Your father will kill us both, my love.'
'I simply do not care.'
'Are you sure? Because this means forever with me, do you really want that?'
'You know I do. How could I possibly ever want someone else when I have you, Sihtric Kjartansson. My handsome warrior,' you smiled, pulling him closer, 'my soon to be irresistible husband,' you giggled, kissing his ever so warm lips while brushing your hands through his soft, recently washed hair, messing up the braids he had just finished.
'Okay, if you are sure about me,' Sihtric chuckled, blushing, 'tomorrow.'
'Tomorrow,' you nodded, and pulled Sihtric down into bed with you.
Tomorrow you were to be husband and wife, so you both agreed that today, when you were still only just betrothed, you should perhaps hump a few times more than usual. Not that anything would be really different after tomorrow, but today was the last day that you could praise Sihtric by saying 'my future husband is such a good boy'. And if there was one thing Sihtric had enjoyed after he proposed, it was asking, 'is this how my future wife wants me to please her?' before he went down on you.
It is true that your father, Uhtred, Lord Uhtred, did not know about your plans to wed, and there was a good chance he would kill you.
You met Sihtric a few months ago, after your father had accepted his oath of loyalty and brought him back home as a member of his household troops. You fell in love quickly, but didn't tell your father about it. He did suspect you and Sihtric were maybe more than just friends, much to his disgrace, and he thought that by sending Sihtric away to deliver messages back and forth between the lands, and so keeping him away from you, you would simply forget about him.
But, unfortunately for your father, instead of forgetting about each other, you and Sihtric desperately wanted to get married as soon as possible. A little reassurance, so you knew your husband would always come back to you, and so Sihtric knew he always had a wife to come back for. But it would also mean that you, as his wife, were allowed to travel with him. So, that, and the fact you could brag about claiming to have the best looking man in Coccham as your husband, which Finan would strongly argue against, was more than enough reason for you to marry.
*****************
'Why don't we go back to your home?'
'Our home,' Sihtric corrected you.
'Our home,' you smiled and rolled your eyes.
'Because yours is closer,' Sihtric smiled as he kissed you, his recently wedded wife, 'and why waste any time?' he grinned. 
Sihtric had his own home, and as he had no one to look after, you'd usually go there if you simply wanted to hump, and it didn't take long before you had seen every corner and every piece of furniture several times already. Sihtric's home was the safest option, and also where you would live with him after today, but you both couldn't wait any longer.
Sihtric persuaded you easily with a kiss and threw you over his shoulder before he stepped into your home. The home you still shared with your father, but Uhtred was out scouting with Finan, so you had the entire home for yourself until late night.
Sihtric knew the way to your bed all too well, for he had often snuck in at night to see you, when Uhtred was asleep. But you had also escaped your father's overprotectiveness by sneaking out in the dead of night to find Sihtric.
'My wife,' Sihtric smiled after he had thrown you onto the bed, biting down on his lip as he spread your knees and positioned his body in between, 'my beautiful wife,' he whispered before he leaned in to kiss you, 'I will honour you and I will love you, always.'
'And so will I,' you said, moving your hands into his hair and pulling him close, eagerly deepening the kiss.
'And I will give my wife as many children as she wants,' Sihtric smiled cheekily, his fingers squeezing into your soft thighs as he kissed your neck.
'Oh, gods,' you moaned, pulling his hair again as you arch your back lightly, 'I want as many as you can give me, husband. Fill me with them, now, please, Sihtric.'
'In time,' Sihtric teased, 'first I need to inspect every inch of my new wife.'
You groaned in frustration and cursed something at him, to which Sihtric smirked. He knew you were impatient, but he loved feeling wanted and desired, and you made him feel just that. He was eager for you, the same as you were for him, but he wanted nothing more than letting you know how he adored you.
Sihtric made quick work of the light, thin dress you had worn for your secret wedding and your undergarments. When he had seen you earlier that day, walking towards him, holding a little bouquet of flowers in your hands, he already couldn't wait for this moment. To have you underneath him, watching you beg for him and curse as he explores your skin with his mouth; pecking, sucking, licking, biting and kissing every inch of you. And you loved it as much as he did. If anything, Sihtric knew how to please you and push you over your edge in no time.
'Is this how my wife wishes to be pleased?' Sihtric asked, kissing up your thigh and moving your legs up over his shoulders, before you felt his lips peck lightly at your core.
'Yes! Gods,' you moaned, as you felt his soft tongue exploring you in all the right ways, making you roll your eyes back in pleasure. 'Such a... such a good boy, my- my husband, so good,' you murmured, slightly bucking your hips, wanting and needing more of him, to which Sihtric firmly grabbed your hips, burying his tongue deeper, drinking you in all the way as he sucked, licked and kissed your sweet spot.
'Sihtric,' you breathed heavily, pulling his hair, 'please.'
'Yes, my love?' he smiled, looking up from between your legs, 'what is it?'
'Need you… I-' you spoke in between heavy breaths, 'need you inside me, baby, please.'
Sihtric chuckled satisfied and crawled back up to you, kissing you intensely, wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue. And he took off his breeches, rather clumsily, as you wouldn't leave his lips. And when you felt him smile, you couldn't help but smile too, knowing how lucky you were to call this sweet boy your husband.
When you were both completely naked, covered under the furs, Sihtric asked how you wanted him today. To which you said, 'the way you like it, my love.' 
And so he did, flipping you over and pulling you on top of him. Watching you with loving, yet heavy eyes of pleasure as you enjoyed him all inside you while his hands trailed over your body, lovingly squeezing and grabbing wherever he could as you pleased him just the way he liked it.
'I-I,' Sihtric's breath hitched, 'I'm close, my love.'
'Then you know what to do,' you smiled and spoke in between heavy breaths, trailing your hands up his muscular chest, to his broad shoulders. And once you had grabbed onto his warm skin, Sihtric flipped you over on your back again with a light chuckle as you giggled. You watched your husband on top of you, enjoying you as if it were Valhalla on earth to him. His groans and sighs in your ear as he thrusted into you made you scream out his name, which was enough to tip Sihtric over his edge too, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he spilled inside you, not wanting to waste a drop of him while he filled you up.
'So- so beautiful,' he sighed out of breath, 'so good, you, my wife, so perfect for me,' he murmured through his high as he nuzzled your neck slowly.
'So are you,' you smiled out of breath, running your fingers through his hair, 'made for me, you were made for me, to be my husband.'
'I was,' he agreed with a chuckle, 'just for you. Only for you, my wife, my goddess,' Sihtric whispered before he kissed you softly, 'I love you, eternally.'
'As do I, sweeting, I love you, until Valhalla.'
'And ever after?'
'And ever after,' you smiled and pulled his lips back to yours.
Sihtric pulled out slowly but stayed on top of you, pecking your lips and face with a smile as he watched you underneath him, glowing, satisfied, happy and safe. Your bliss unfortunately lasted merely seconds, when suddenly the door to your room flung open.
'Father?!' you screamed, shocked that he was home already and youimmediately reached for the furs, but Sihtric beat you to it.
'Lord!' Sihtric said, wide eyed, quickly covering you up with the furs while you tried to do so yourself.
'What is this?!' Uhtred hissed, eyes wide as a wild animal, 'Sihtric!' he shouted as he stepped towards the bed, 'that is my daughter!' he huffed, pulling Sihtric off you by yanking his ear.
'Lord!' Sihtric raised his voice suddenly, quickly reaching for one of the furs to cover himself up as Uhtred dragged him away from you.
'Father! Stop!' you jumped up, also desperately clinging onto the fur around your body.
'What is this!' Uhtred shouted again, confused and horrified by the sight of his daughter and the boy, one of his most loyal men, both naked in the same room, 'what is he to you?!'
'He,' you said curtly, looking at Sihtric, 'is my husband.'
Uhtred darted his eyes between you and Sihtric, before he finally settled his deadly stare into the eyes of your handsome husband.
'Your husba-,' he paused, 'no he is not!' Uhtred exclaimed.
'No, I am not, lord,' Sihtric panicked, almost dropping the fur that barely covered him.
'Yes he is! Sihtric,' you scoffed, 'you are!'
'Are you?' Uhtred asked, threateningly, 'her husband?'
'I- I,' Sihtric stammered.
'You lie to me?' Uhtred's voice suddenly calmed, placing his hand onto Sihtric's shoulder as a power play, while you quickly dressed yourself.
'I didn't mean to, lord,' Sihtric flinched lightly, as if expecting a slap across the face.
'Who married you?'
'I'm s-sorry,' Sihtric said, closing his eyes and awaiting his punishment.
'Who married you?' Uhtred asked again, raising his voice.
'Father, stop it!' you pulled his hand off Sihtric, who you quickly pulled back towards you as his trembling hands held onto the fur, 'you can't behave like this!' you scowled.
You took Sihtric's trembling hand in yours as you placed your other hand on his cheek, caressing it softly while you brought his face to rest against your own.
'No one will hurt you, my love,' you whispered, 'I promise.'
Uhtred watched the couple, bewildered, and he rubbed his hands over his face, awaiting an explanation.
'Beocca married us,' you said, stepping in front of Sihtric as you turned to face your father, 'this morning.'
'This morning?'
'Yes,' you said curtly, 'and we have consummated the marriage already so there is nothing you can do about it anymore.'
'Oh, I can,' Uhtred huffed, his hand reaching for Serpent-Breath's hilt.
'But you will not!' 
'Give me one reason.'
'Because I love him!' you said, 'and he loves me.'
Uhtred dropped his hand slowly, away from his sword and looked at you and Sihtric in silence for a moment.
'Is that true?' he asked Sihtric, 'you love her?'
'I do, lord.'
Uhtred sighed, smacking his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
'What is the plan then? You both live here?' Uhtred grimaced.
'No, we agreed that I will move in with Sihtric.'
'Absolutely not,' Uhtred snapped.
'Why not!'
'I can not think of you sharing your bed with him every night!'
'So, then what,' you scoffed, 'you want us to live here so you can hear it every night?'
'No!' Uhtred felt his stomach twist at the thought.
'I will live with him, father, it is already decided,' you said calmly, reaching behind you to lace your fingers with Sihtric's, who was blushing heavily. 'Do we have your blessings?' you asked.
'My blessings?' Uhtred scoffed and thought quietly for a long moment before he huffed, 'fine.'
You both snapped your faces up to Uhtred, who still grimaced lightly.
'Thank you!' you smiled widely.
'Thank you, lord,' Sihtric smiled, 'we- we will name our first son after you.'
'What? No!' you pulled a face.
'No you will not!' Uhtred scowled.
'We will not,' Sihtric mumbled, squeezing your hand softly.
Uhtred felt sick again and left as fast as he could, after which you both chuckled nervously before Sihtric helped you pack up your belongings, moving everything over to his home.
*****************
five years later
*****************
'How many more are ye planning? Sweet Jesus,' Finan chuckled as he held your youngest.
'No more, for now,' you sighed and looked up at your husband, 'my body is tired,' you chuckled lightly.
'I know, my love,' Sihtric smiled sweetly at you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, 'you have already given me more than I could dream of.'
'Aye, same goes for him,' Finan cocked his head towards Uhtred, who was face flat on the grass, piled under your three other children, who all tried to throw soft punches at him.
Sihtric had truly kept his promise, and you found out he already got you pregnant on your wedding day. You gave birth to a beautiful boy, named Cynlaef, who, as young as he was, already started to take after his father; charming and always in a mood to play pretend fights with grandpa Uhtred and uncle Finan, but it was uncle Osferth who always got the most beatings.
Only two months after you had given birth to your first son, you found out you were pregnant, again. Sihtric was ecstatic, Osferth surprised, Finan a little shocked, Uhtred still appalled at the thought of his daughter with Sihtric, or with any man for that matter, and you were happy but also nervous. You loved your married with kids life, but you worried about providing for your children when Sihtric wasn't there. You had expressed your worries to your father, but he told you there was nothing to worry about, except that a battle would soon approach and Sihtric had to go.
And so you gave birth, without your husband by your side, to a daughter who would be named Gunnora. Sihtric had returned several weeks after you had given birth, and from that moment it was already clear that Gunnora was daddy's girl, and whoever would end up betrothing her, would have a hard time convincing Sihtric. What Sihtric wasn't hard to be convinced of, was that you had missed him and you desperately wanted him. Which once again led to pregnancy and resulted in another boy named Bj��rn. A few months after Björn was born, you became pregnant again, and so there would be another boy; Torsten. 
As much as you loved your children, you had enough and discussed with Sihtric how you simply couldn't birth another child, at least, not for a few years. Although Sihtric loved seeing you pregnant with his pups, he understood and agreed, not telling you how he was sometimes so exhausted he would fall asleep when he actually had to guard the fortress. And so, shortly after your last birthed child, you found a healer, who gave you a potion to drink each time after you had humped. And luckily for you, it worked wonders.
Uhtred, your father, truly loved his grandchildren and would stop by whenever he could. But you could tell four grandkids was a lot, even for him. He walked back over to you with your eldest on his back, your daughter in his arms and your other son got dragged over the grass as he clung onto Uhtred's ankle.
'Lord,' Finan snorted, 'your daughter has something to tell you,' he taunted, riling Uhtred up.
'No!' Uhtred shouted, exhausted, 'no more children! Please!' to which Finan laughed loudly and slapped Sihtric's shoulder, who also couldn't help but laugh at Uhtred's sheer panic.
'No,' you laughed, 'Finan is just messing with you, father, there will be no more children for at least a while,' you reassured him.
'Bless the gods,' Uhtred smiled with relief as he set Gunnora back down on her feet, who immediately ran to Sihtric, claiming his attention away from you.
'Mother!' Cynlaef exclaimed as he jumped off Uhtred's back, 'grandpa said I can fight with him! Just like dad!'
'Did he?' you gave Uhtred a disapproving look, who grinned and shrugged. 'We'll talk about that when you are old enough, son,' you said, 'now, go wash your hands. All of you, it's time for dinner. And you all know the rules, no talks about battles at the table.'
'Aye,' Finan said as he caught your hard stare, 'I won't say a word.'
'Nor speak of more children,' Uhtred commented.
'That too,' you laughed. Sihtric rolled his eyes and gave you a kiss, before he followed your children inside, where you watched him make order of the chaos as he sat them all down at the table. And you thought that maybe another child wouldn't be so sad. But just not this year.
'Maybe next year,' you smiled to yourself and took a seat in between your irresistible husband and your softened father.
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