head scratchies

Fevered

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Baekhyun

Rating: PG

Warning: Descriptions of Lupus

Word Count: 6,926

Summary:  Lately, it seems that all your time is spent in and out of hospitals. A dreary place, even in the best of times. Until you meet him. [Genre: fluff]

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Imagine waking up next to Niall. The sun is just barely peeking through the window, rays just slightly warming your skin through the blanket. And Niall is beside you, and when your eyes squint open, he’s facing you, lips gently parted, a dark coating of stubble lining his jaw. He’s so fucking gorgeous, you can hardly stand him.

And then everything else registers. The ache in your head, the scratchiness and the burn in the back of your throat. The slight nausea unfurling itself in your stomach.

You’re sick.

But you’re determined to ignore it. You’re not a quitter. When has a little cold stopped you? Maybe in kindergarten, but you’ve got shit to do, a job to work, groceries to buy, and mouths to feed. Well, just Niall’s, and yours of course, but whatever.

You close your eyes and drift back off since your alarm hasn’t gone off yet. No point in wasting sleep, and perhaps when you wake up you’ll be fine, and this will all have been a nightmare.

No dice. When your alarm rings, you groan, and sluggishly move over to turn it off before simply laying on the bed limply for a moment. Apparently, this startles Niall, for he sits straight up and looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Love? What’s wrong?” He asks, lips pressing together.

“Nothin’,” you slur out before slowly pushing your body up off the bed. That nausea has NOT gone away, and it’s making you close your eyes and think for a moment.

“Really? ‘Cause normally the second your alarm rings, you’re up and movin’,” Niall states before pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. He frowns, then leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead to check again, a trick he’s learned from you. Curse him and his memory. “Ya have a fever, love.”

Stubbornness holds on to you. You’ve never taken a sick day at work. “No I don’t.”

Niall’s eyebrows flick up. “Are ya fuckin’ arguing with me about whether or not you have a fever?”

“Yes.”

His mouth drops open, but then he closes it and shakes his head before pulling himself out of bed. He pads out of the bedroom, and a minute or so later he’s back with a thermometer. “Stick this under your tongue. And keep it there. I’m watching ya.”

Though you don’t want to, you reluctantly turn it on and place it under your tongue. Even if you are sick, you’re still planning on going to work. The thought of getting behind worries you, and you don’t want to have to make up for it later.

Niall crosses his arms over his chest and waits. The thermometer beeps, and he snatches it straight out of your mouth before you can even blink. You don’t mind, suddenly. Having that thing under your tongue, somehow, made your nausea twist up inside you. You might actually puke.

“39,” he whispers, as if he cannot quite believe it himself. You doubt he’s ever seen you ill. “Alright, darlin’, you’re staying home today. I’ll take care of ya while ya rest.”

“Niall, I can’t stay home, I have work.”

His eyes widen. “You’re fuckin’ sick. They won’t even want you around with this fever, babe.”

“Niall, I need to go to work.”

Niall frowns. “No,” he says very firmly, as if chastising a dog. “You’re not goin’ to work. I’m gonna block ya every step of the way and drag your ass back. Jesus, love, just-”

“Niall, move!”

The panic in your voice causes him to jump to the side as you suddenly rush into the bathroom where you barely make it to the toilet before upchucking your guts. You heave, fingers digging into the porcelain surface, and a second later you feel a hand lift your hair up and away from your face, and another hand splay out on the middle of your back, a soothing touch.

It’s over a minute by the time it’s over. Spent, you can just barely flush before slumping back on to the tile floor of the bathroom. You haven’t puked in years.

“Jesus, petal, when ya get sick, ya really get sick, dontcha?” Niall whispers, even as he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck. You blink back tears and sniffle. God, you’ve always hated puking. “Fuck, darlin’, okay. Let me help ya up so ya can rinse your mouth out and then get your ass back in bed.” His tone is sweet even as he helps you up on to your wobbly legs.

Niall disappears for a few minutes as you try to settle yourself. Sticking a toothbrush into your mouth doesn’t sound like the best idea, so you opt for water and then mouthwash, before stumbling your way back to bed, and sinking in to it gratefully.

“Just got off the phone with your boss,” he announces as he steps back into the room. “He’s worried about ya. Since you’re never sick and all.” He explains, before pouting. “Me poor, workin’ baby. Ya gotta rest today, probably tomorrow too.”

You give him a dead look, and he chuckles. “Just let me sleep and make me chicken noodle soup when I wake up.”

Niall winks at you. “Done and done.”

You were never really coddled when you got sick. In fact, you really just never left your room if you came down with something, and occasionally a parent would stand outside the closed door and ask if you needed anything. If yes, they tossed it inside as quick as possible. Germaphobes.

Maybe you could get used to this.

Later on, as Niall spoon-feeds you chicken noodle soup, you’re thinking that this is a bit ridiculous, but you’ll take it.

anonymous asked:

Hiii!!! i love your blog and your sanders sides fics give me life <3 i was wondering if you could do some fluff since there's a lot of angsty fics. maybe like a sickfic or something (ily and your blog so much and you're a total cutie :D)

Gah thank you sweetie!

You didn’t tell me who you wanted so you get LAMP human AU, hope that’s ok

Patton was just getting home from a late shift, when he opened the door to his apartment, surprised to still see lights on. And saw what looked to be an explosion.

Roman lay cradled against Logan on the couch under a pile of blankets and discarded tissues. He was snoring slightly and his red nose stood out against his paler than normal face. Behind them the kitchen was a disaster, discarded pans and half chopped ingredients littered the countertop and a soup pot was boiling over on the stove as Anxiety studied a recipe.

“What happened in here?” he asked somewhat shocked. When he had left that morning everything had been fine.

“What happened?” Anxiety echoed, sounding like he had been pushed well past being annoyed, “ what happened was Princey over there got a little cold and has been a royal pain on the ass ever since. Seriously, I made Logan come home early because I just couldn’t take it anymore.” He huffed, pulling the soup off the stove and sloshing it into a bowl. “Give that to him, will you? I need a break.” Patton watched wide-eyed as Ann stormed off.

He gave the soup a cautious sniff, wanting to make sure it was in fact fit for human consumption, before walking back into the living room. He set the soup down on the coffee table quietly upon realizing that Logan had also drifted off. He reached forward in an attempt to gently pull his glasses off without waking him. Which of course failed as Lo jolted awake, blinking at him in confusion a few times.

“Hey, how was work?” he yawned at him.

“Same old. How was your day? Sounds like its pretty bad if Ann made you come home early.” Logan just smiled at that.

“ the only person more dramatic than Roman, is Anxiety. I mean yes Ro was pretty fussy and demanding today, but Ann was convinced Roman was on his deathbed. I tell you those two just feed into each others fantasies. ”

Pat nodded in agreement, running a hand over Romans forehead to assure himself that the other wasn’t to terribly sick.

“Do we dare try and feed him this soup, or should we just get him upstairs.” he said with a slight chuckle, holding the soup up for Logan to inspect.

“Ugh. Roman did request chicken noodle soup, but I’m not sure that qualifies.”

Patton laughed again, running his hands through Romans hair. “Roman? ”

The sick man just grumbled in his sleep and turned his face into Logan’s chest. “Come on hun, lets get you up into bed.” he said and began peeling off the blankets.

“ Noooo” Ro moaned as Logan stood up, dislodging him from his lap. Patton took his hands and pulled him to a standing position.

“Oh Pats, I do not feel well at all.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” he slipped an arm around his waist and began guiding him to the stairs.

“I’m all stuffed up, and my throat is scratchy. My head feels so heavy it may just fall off. ”

“I’m sorry baby” he cooed, knowing that’s all Roman really wanted. “I think I’ve got some vapo rub, do you want some before you go to bed?”

Roman nodded pathetically, sitting dejectedly on the side of the bed, where Ann was (pretending to be) asleep. Quickly he ducked into the bathroom looking for the desired medicine, but by the time he got back Prince was already asleep, Anxiety wrapped tightly around him. Pat sighed and set the jar down on the side table for later.

He made his way down the stairs slowly, exhausted from his long work day. Logan was already down there, cleaning up tissues and folding blankets. Patton looked at the kitchen and sighed again.

“Just leave it.” Logan said, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Ann can get it in the morning.” he felt that was unlikely to happen, but followed Logan up the stairs anyways collapsing onto the bed behind him.

~~~~

“Rise and shine” Roman said cheerfully, throwing open the curtains. His greeting was meet with triplet groans as it was early, even by Pat’s standards.

“I see your feeling better.” Logan grumbled into his pillow.

“Yes of course, every one knows that cuddles are the best cure for a cold.” He proclaimed with his usual flair.

Ann reached out blindly, finding Pat and gluing himself to his back.

“I’m dying.” he said past the scratchiness in his throat before coughing into his elbow and groaning miserably.

Here we go again, Patton thought.

anonymous asked:

Are Hyde and Jekyll cuddlers?

Jekyll–He would be, but he is magnetically drawn to romantic partners who do not cuddle ever. 

Hyde–I don’t think he can sit still long enough to cuddle. At best he might do the thing that cats do where they will briefly lie down next to you but keep changing their position every couple seconds to let you know where to best direct your petting. (Except for Hyde it would be less petting and more … actually it might be petting. Or head scratchies. Everybody loves head scratchies.) 

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Enjoying the best head scratchies!!

#samoyed #samoyedsofinstagram #happy #smiley #happyboy #samoieda #samoyedo #teddybear #fluffy #fuzzyface #teamsamoyed #samoyedclub #chillin #teddybear

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lohan289z  asked:

Cayde's reaction to his Gaurdian or his s/o coming back to the tower with a box of kittens that they found abandoned in the EDZ? Hope you're doing well (^^)

kittens? a liter of kittens? hoooooooh boy, here we go! I’m doing s’well because Destiny 2 have some maintence and I bet its the Faction Rally. I have the time to reply to all 


You were carrying a box, a box that has a few holes on the sides and it was making noise. Inside the box was a liter of kittens you found in the EDZ. You wonder which heartless monster abandon these cuties but you end up taking them. Your Ghost asked you, “Why are we keeping this? There’s not much space in the ship.” 

“They are not for me, but for Cayde.” You reply as you walked from the Courtyard to the left side of the Tower, to the Hangar. “He keeps telling me that he want a few friends for Colonel.” 

“The chicken?” 

You nod your head. “Yeap.” 

A few Guardians was curious about the box and politely ask you what’s inside it. You show them and they couldn’t help but to be entice by the cuteness from the kittens. 

The Guardians gave you a thumbs up as you told them why you are carrying this box down to the Hangar. They left you be. 

“Cayde!” The Vanguard optics brighten in glee when you smile at him. “I’m back from the EDZ.” The optics then took a glance at the box you’re carrying. 

“Hun, what’s that?” He ask, studying the box. You slowly approach him, using one arm to make it as a base for you to hold the box and the other arm to open the flaps of the box. 

Cayde gasped. “Are they… for me?” The cries from the kittens had made his spark soften. Just a small bit. He reached out into the box and carefully, took one of the kittens. He was being gentle with it. 

Amanda got up from her spot and join in the cuteness galore. “Aww, look at all these cuties. Gee, Caydie, you’re a lucky man.” She look up to see if she can hold one. You gave her a short nod, telling her she can hold a kitten. 

“I think I’m going to name you… Lieutenant.” You and Amanda shared a look before bursting into a fit of giggles. “What? Not good enough for them?” His optics narrowed at the both of you. 

“N-no, its just a weird name for a kitten.” You place the box onto his table, the rest of the kittens was meowing for you. With careful hands, you took one of them out and cradle it like a baby. 

“Why don’t you name it with a good name?” The kitten purred as you stroke its head. “Like, Scratchy McGee or based on their personalities. For example, this one likes to purr so I’m going to name it, Purrsona.” 

Cayde let out a hum. “Good point.” The kitten that his holding was a quiet one, it didn’t hiss nor scratch. It just look at Cayde with its brown eyes. 

“This little fella, reminds me of someone I knew.” 

“What’s the name?” You leaned against the table, waiting for him to continue. You carefully put the kitten back into the box. Amanda place the kitten back and went back to her job, leaving the both of you. 

“Andal… Yeah, he would laugh at me but at least I remember him more.” You walk behind Cayde and wrapped your arms around his waist. Cayde’s posture relaxed and you can tell that he was reminiscing about his best friend.  

“It suits him.” The kitten rubbed its face to Cayde’s metal cheek, purring at the name. 

The Stars Over the Sun

Hercules x Female Reader

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Word Count: 1780

A/N: Um, so sorry about my week+ hiatus there. I think I wrote and erased and rewrote this about twelve times, I couldn’t decide on the plot I liked best. I’m pretty happy with which plot I went with, but it might be confusing, so idk. It’s just a little Herc fluff. This is mostly just dialogue, which was really strange for me to write, so it might not be as good of quality as my other imagines, but here we are. Hopefully you like it! Here we go!

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The Yule Ball: Request for Anon

“Y/N Y/L/N get your arse over here!” Hermione Granger shouts as she rushes to curl a piece of hair. “Just a second” you reply, anxiously staring at the girl in the mirror. She wears a sweetheart neckline silver gown. Twirling, the dress split into dozens of shards; shimmering brilliantly in the dimly lit dormitory. “You look ravishing” Hermione assures you, gently patting your shoulder. “Now help me” she snaps, handing you a bunch of muggle hair pins. You carefully pin Hermione’s tight curls atop her head and sweep the remaining, draping curls over her right shoulder. “Absolutely stunning” you nod while admiring her pink dress flowing with ruffles. “I hope Viktor likes it” she responds, fussing with the gown. “Of course he will” you say automatically. “Blimey! I need to fix you up right away!” Hermione wails and throws you into the nearest chair. She styles your (y/h/c) hair into loose waves and applies a fresh coat of makeup. “Absolutely stunning” Hermione nods in approval. “Do you think Dr- er Blaise will like it?” You wonder, praying Hermione would not notice your slip up. Blaise Zabini, a pigheaded Slytherin asked you to the Yule Ball. Your options were limited- owing to the fact no one else had asked. “Yes, they both will” she smirks knowingly and shoves red stilettos into your shaky hands.

“I’m nervous” you whine, clutching Hermione’s hand as you descend the stairs to Gryffindor common room. “You’ll be just fine, y/n” she giggles, catching Viktor Krum’s eye. You scan the room and find Blaise staring at Ginny Weasley’s bum. “Ahem” you clear your throat loudly. Blaise’s eyes immediately scan the exposed parts of your body. “Damn, y/l/n. You look hot” He says huskily, pulling your body flush against his. “Thanks” you mumble uncomfortably and stop Blaise’s hand from squeezing your bum. “Shall we?” Harry Potter motions toward the exit of the common room. “I suppose” Ron Weasley grumbles, glaring at Viktor’s arm on Hermione’s lower back.

“Would you like to dance?” You attempt to steal Blaise’s attention. He has been ogling the tight, revealing dressed Slytherin whores ever since you arrived. “Not in particular” Blaise snorted and walked up to a random, promiscuous Slytherin. Your heart sank. Rejection rolls throughout your body in waves, puncturing nonexistent holes in your heart. The unwanted feeling tosses salty tears down your cheeks, most likely smudging Hermione’s handiwork. “Are you alright?” A melodic voice questions, barely audible over the blaring music in the background. You were hunched in the corner of the Great hall, head against the scratchy material on your knees. Your head instantly snaps up, recognizing the beautiful tone of voice. “I’m fine” you shrug, sniffling. Draco Malfoy raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. He sticks out a pale hand in front of you. “I’m okay, really” you insist, but your voice quavers through the lie. “Take my hand, y/l/n.” Defeated, you reach for Draco’s smooth marble hand. He swiftly pulls you up and intertwines your fingers between his long ones. “Let’s go” he says, towing you through the throng of horny, adolescent wizards. You simply follow, scanning the crowd for your friends. Pavarti and Padma Patil seemed to have ditched Harry and Ron. Ron stared dejectedly across the room at Hermione, who was grinning from ear to ear up at Viktor. Draco ushers you through the grand doors of the Great Hall. “Where are we going?” “Gryffindor common room” Draco answers, gesturing you to lead the way.

“Feel better?” Draco asks as you bound down the stairs to the empty common room. You wiped off the smeared makeup and changed into a comfortable, oversized sweatshirt paired with leggings and fuzzy socks. “A bit” you reply, shyly avoiding his piercing grey eyes. Draco pats the space next to him on the rugged love-seat. You sit and take in Draco’s attire for the first time this night. His white-blonde hair pops against the ebony suit and tie. The slight ruffle in the collar of his white dress shirt gave the outfit a timeless charm. “Like what you see?” He smirks and tilts your chin to stare into your eyes. “Because I know I do” he murmurs while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Inconspicuously, you inhale his sweet breath fanning across your face. Everything about him makes you putty in his capable hands. “Really?” you breathe. Abruptly, his soft lips were touching yours. Moving at their own accord, Draco slips his tongue into your mouth. You moan, loud and embarrassing at the feeling of your tongues gyrating against each other. The moan, however, seemed to have the opposite effect. Draco enthusiastically drags you on top of his dress pants and run his fingers through your messy curls. In expectation of the kiss going further than intended, you pull away. Draco pouts, “I’m sorry. I’m just not ready for that yet” you apologize. “We don’t have to do that yet” he reassures you with a smile. “I’ve liked you for a while y/n, I can wait.” Pleasantly surprised, you giggle like a school girl. “I’ve liked you for a while, as well” you admit. “Will you go out with me y/n y/l/n?” Draco asks while kissing your neck. “Y-yes” you stutter and reciprocated the favor.

Got a sore throat? Scratchy voice? Head or chest cold? Listen  up:

Do not use lozenges with camphor, menthol, or any type of oral analgesic. They dry out your throat and while providing temporary relief, ultimately worsen your condition. You’ll be more likely to lose your voice if you use them. 

The above includes sugar-free, herbal, fancy-hippie throat drops as well as that fisherman’s friend/Ricola type stuff. Nearly all throat drops are bad for you. Before buying, look at the ingredients on the back of the package. See any kind of numbing agent, menthol, camphor, or cough suppressant? Do not buy it. 

The kind of throat drops you want will have glycerine, honey, and/or slippery elm. These are the throat-coating, protective ingredients vocal coaches swear by. The one brand I can find in my local pharmacy is this: 

Pine Bros Softish Throat Drops come in cherry, honey, and liquorice flavors and are sold in circular tins and bulk bags. Check out your local pharmacies for these babies. Don’t screw around with any other drops. 

The other product you want to buy is a tea that contains slippery elm. I suggest: 

Throat Coat comes in regular and Lemon flavor; I suggest the regular because lemon is acidic. You can find this in the tea section of most grocery stores, particular Whole Foods esque ones, though I found this in my regular grocery. It’s caffeine free and full of slippery elm, and cost me about $5 a box. It’s worth it if you need your voice to work. 

Make yourself a hot piping cup of throat coat and let the bag stay in the cup the whole time you drink it. It tastes a little herbaly and a little bit like anise, and not bad. You can add honey to sweeten; honey is also somewhat protective so it can only help. When you’re done with the cup, squeeze out the bag and drink the last little dribbles. 

Hydrate constantly. Let water slide down your throat rather than gulping it. This is more soothing and will prevent you from drinking a ton of water and having to run to the bathroom every six seconds while still experiencing throat pain.

Avoid aspirin and other pain killers unless necessary. They can irritate the throat. If you need a pain killer, use a gel cap rather than a tablet. 

Do not whisper. Do not. Seriously, whispering is harder on your throat than moderate yelling. Speak in an even, moderate tone. Carry a notebook and write in it if your voice is fading. Seriously. People are nice about it especially if your voice is palpably bad. 

These tips helped me immensely this fall when a five-course teaching load utterly obliterated my ability to speak. I was seriously unable to even squeeze out a hoarse, faint sound for the better part of two weeks. And being a professor, this was not a manageable condition. Once I did some research and stopped worsening my condition with camphor drops and whispering, I got a lot better a lot faster. You can too! 

Back To Basics Prt 16.

Prompt: Riley Matthews lived in NY for the majority of her childhood. That is up until 6th grade when her father was offered a job in sunny California, which he accepted. Riley was forced to leave behind everything she knew, her school, her teachers and her small group of best friends. Fast forward 5 years where Riley and her family decide it’s time to move back home. Now a junior in high-school Riley has to figure out where she belongs after being gone for so long.
A/N: Okay so here’s the thing. In my heart right now this is the last chapter. I’ve loved writing this story and developing the characters but it feels like it needs to come to an end. Hope you guys enjoyed this one. I know I have.
Chapters
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Chapter 16 - “Sparkling.”

In the weeks that followed Lucas’ spontaneous night visit, Riley found herself feeling conflicted. She was stuck between wanting him to reach out again and wishing she could just move on. It wasn’t how she envisioned staring off senior year. She wanted a fresh slate, nothing holding her back from enjoying herself or becoming involved. She didn’t want to fall off the face of the earth just because of some guy. No matter how minty green his eyes were.

She’d been spending a lot of time by herself lately and when she wasn’t alone she was third wheeling which still felt just as lonely. Farkle and Isadora were spending as much time together as they could because they both got early acceptance into the ivy league of their choice. The only problem was they were in two separate states.

Maya had fallen crazy in love with a drummer named Jake. Riley didn’t have the heart to tell her how much the new boy resembled her older brother, instead she chose to be happy for her best friend and let things play out the way they were meant to.

Charlie apologized to her and wanted to make amends and Riley forgave him but she wasn’t able to forget what he’d done. She accepted his apology but wasn’t interested in rekindling their old friendship.

She wasn’t sure what it was exactly but lately she’s been less into second chances. Maybe she thought no one deserved them anymore.

She stood in front of her full length mirror, glancing over her outfit. New York was in a weird place weather wise. It was October but the chill hadn’t come in completely yet. Some days it still felt like summer and others felt like winter was right around the corner. Today was more on the colder side. She opted for a grey knit sweater dress, tights and over the knee boots.

“There she is” Zay sung while climbing through Riley’s bedroom window. “There’s my girl.” Once he’s on his feet he reaches over and pulls her in for a hug. She hasn’t seen him for a couple of weeks now, maybe a month, and she knew it was because Lucas was back in New York. Zay and her might have gotten extremely close over the last year but she’s always known where his loyalty lies.

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Desert // John Murphy Imagine

title - Desert

pairing - John Murphy/you

prompt - nahh but I’m open to writing a pt 2 

warnings - hella long and some violence and swearing i think


The air was hot, the sun was hot, even the sand was overwhelmingly hot. Sand. It was everywhere. It was in your hair, sand in your clothes, sand in your boots. You’ve probably swallowed more sand than you originally believed was possible. The cloth that covered your face and your head was scratchy and it barely served its purpose.

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He’s Sick

Pairing: Michael & Y/N

Word Count: 1,498

Requested: Anonymous - “Can you do an imagine where Michael is sick?”

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Michael has always turned into the biggest baby when he’s sick, so when you received a text from him earlier that afternoon explaining he was coming home early from the studio, because he felt ill you immediately rushed to the closest drugstore to pick up items for what you liked to call your “Michael Survival Kit.” You pull into the driveway, sighing slightly when you see his car already there. You gather your bags, entering the house as quietly as possible, hearing a groan coming from the living room.

“Baby?” He calls.

You kneel beside him, pushing the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead out of the way, grimacing when you feel how hot his forehead is.

“Hi Mikey, I’m right here, love. How are you feeling?”

“It hurts.” He whines, nuzzling his face closer to your touch.

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