Wasps In Bug Fables

Crimson and Noire, Chapter 1.

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Art by: DK Saikou (Instagram)

Coordinated by: Scarlett-writes (tumblr)

Story by: 11JJ11 (ao3)

‘　I can easily imagine a small, grumpy, sleepy Leif. ’

idk i really like when a character gets progressively sick like

Day 1 Character A goes to school with a slightly runny nose and an occasional cough. Character B notices and comments on it but Character A is like “nah i’m good”

Day 2 Character A’s slightly running nose is slowly turning into a waterfall and the coughing gets more frequent and is accompanied by a raspy voice. Character B questions why Character A is even at school and Character A brushes the question off with “it’s just a small cold”

Day 3 Character A is running a fever. Their face is flushed and glistening with sweat despite the chills wracking their body. The runny nose leads to aggressive sneezing fits and the coughing is pushing every few seconds. After an intense coughing fit at their locker, Character A is forced to grab onto the locker door to keep from toppling over as they start to sway. Character B is downright worried now and scolds Character A before carefully leading them into the parking lot and into the car to go back to Character B’s house. Character A tries to protest but Character B brushes any complaints off. 

Wholesome dad energy Leifs to make up for the prior cursed image

I Missed You

Summary: A sick Victor meets Yuuri at the airport. Some fluff ensues.

1800~ words

Continuar lendo

This is a super SUPER late birthday fic for @shiveringsickies who’s wonderful and amazing and deserves all the good things in life.

*

The week before finals is, by far, the absolute most stressful event in anyone’s academic career. Add in being a complete perfectionist, and you’re in for an especially rough time.

Shiro is in that boat right now - alternating between pulling all nighters and sleeping for only a couple of hours. By the time Friday rolls around, he’s bone-tired and more than ready to sleep for a year straight. Except, he has to work, and he still feels like he has so much to study that he’s not sure when he’ll be able to actually sleep.

“Dude, you look beat,” Hunk says, raising a brow.

“Yeah…well…it’s finals week,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes sleepily, “why don’t you look like you’re about to fall asleep?”

“My finals finished two days ago…and then I slept for an entire day and a half.”

“How? Finals week doesn’t start until Monday.”

“I’m graduating tomorrow,” he grins.

“Oh right…congrats, man. That’s awesome,” Shiro says, shooting him a weak smile.

Hulk grimaces, “when’s the last time you slept?”

“Uh…I think I’ve been up for thirty two hours.”

“Shiro.”

“I know, I know…I’m pretty sure I’ve only slept about ten hours this week.”

“You need to sleep. Go home.”

“Can’t…I have to work.”

“I’m your boss, did you forget that?” Hunk grins.

“But-”

“-No buts. Seriously, I’ll get someone to cover your shift, we’ll be fine. Everyone is busy studying for finals, I really don’t think there will be many people needing the RA on duty. Go home and sleep.”

“Okay,” Shiro mumbles, “sleep sounds nice.”

“I’ll bet it does. Let me know if you need anything.”

*

When Shiro wakes up, his entire body aches with an intensity that nearly brings tears to his eyes. He feels so aggressively awful that he doesn’t really know…what…to do. He’s freezing, it feels like there’s ice water in his veins, and he can’t stop shivering.

He rolls onto his back, trying to ignore how raw and swollen his throat feels, and how much pressure he feels in his sinuses and behind his eyes. He sniffles, rubbing at his nose as he blinks heavily - he’s not entirely sure what day it is, but he just wants to go back to sleep.

Shiro forces himself out of bed anyways, because if the dizzy, light-headed feeling is anything to go by, he needs to try and eat something. He pulls the blankets around his shoulders and shuffles out into the living room area, muffling a cough into one of the corners of the blanket.

Lance is sitting on the couch, reading one of the books from his literature class when Shiro walks out.

“Are you alright?” Lance frowns, eyebrows furrowing when he takes in Shiro’s appearance.

“Umb…I think I’mb sick,” he rasps, voice weak and thick with congestion.

“Yeah, no shit, Shiro. You’re shivering, come sit down, what do you need?”

“I wandted sombe food…and mbaybe tea. Mby throat is killing mbe,” he grunts, dropping down onto the couch and curling into himself. He readjusts the blanket so that he’s laying underneath it.

“What sounds good?”

“Ndothing really…i’mb dizzy, though.”

“You’ve been living on coffee and energy drinks the last week. You’re probably way dehydrated.”

“Probably,” he mumbles, drawing his knees to his chest as he shivers again.

Lance rests his hand on Shiro’s forehead, “shit…no wonder you’re shivering so much, you’re burning up.”

“Thought so…what day is it?”

“Saturday night.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s eight.”

“Are you serious?”

“…Um…yeah? Why would I lie?”

“I wasted the endtire day,” he groans, “I have to study.”

“You have studied - all week - and now you’re sick. You need to get some sleep.”

“I kndow,” Shiro sniffles, “I’mb freezing…cand I have andother blanket?”

“You never admit you’re sick,” Lance frowns, walking over to the other side of the room to grab him another one, “what gives?”

“I feel awful,” he mumbles, pressing his face into the cushions. Lance drapes a blanket over him, which doesn’t seem to help him feel any less cold, and it doesn’t make the shivers abate at all.

“Yeah,” Lance frowns, feeling his cheek, “I want to get a read on your temperature, hold on.”

“Ugh…okay,” he groans.

His phone rings, and it takes a couple of minutes of him trying to figure out what’s buzzing before he realizes it’s his phone. His brain feels sluggish and hazy, and he almost just ignores the call.

But, he figures he probably shouldn’t do that, so he fumbles with it for a few moments before he’s finally able to answer.

“Hello?” He croaks, rubbing at his forehead as he tries not to cough all over his phone.

“Hey, man. You know you’re supposed to be working, right? Keith just called, he said nobody can get ahold of you,” Hunk says.

“I…what?”

“Are you alright?”

“I just woke up, I’mb ndot-”

“Oh shit,” Hunk hisses, “you sound awful. Stay home, don’t worry about your shift, we’ll get it handled.”

“Thanks,” Shiro mumbles, still entirely too confused to understand what just happened.

He scrubs a hand over his face, letting out a stuffy little cough as he hunkers down deeper into the blankets.

God, why is it so cold?

“Okay, here,” Lance says, handing him a thermometer, “stick it underneath your tongue. I’m going to make you some tea.”

“What?”

“Thermometer under your tongue,” Lance repeats, a frown crossing his face, “you okay?”

“Dizzy,” he mumbles, sticking it in his mouth.

When it beeps, Lance takes it from him and walks into the kitchen.

“103.4. Holy shit, dude.”

“I dond’t feel very well.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Lance hisses, grabbing him some medicine. “You’re going to take this and we’re going to watch a movie until you fall asleep. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Shiro mumbles sleepily, “sounds good.”

O Olho da Deusa/Deus - arte indígena muito conhecida só que na sua forma com fios de lã. Um amuleto lindo que normalmente confeccionamos para pedir algo simples aos deuses como esperança, felicidade, prosperidade, amor e etc. Faço esse amuleto nas cores prata, preto,vermelho,lilás, azul ou verde…só por encomenda falando comigo por mensagem privada!🍃💚

*feito com fio colorido de alumínio.

#dhyngetal #olhodedeus #olhodadeusa #wicca #arteindigena #amuleto https://www.instagram.com/p/B4Ar3Dnhty2/?igshid=1qkoj9gmn6dx5

“Between the sprain and the sniffles, you really can’t catch a break this week" with Keith and whichever caretaker you wanna write? ☺️

Thanks for the request, I hope you don’t mind a fluffy AU! And as usual, thanks to my dear @vcepsis for beta reading my stuff! I’d be lost without you! 😘

—-

Shiro sighed tiredly, and leaned against the counter, his fingers pulling back the soft tuft of white hair on his forehead. Quiet, at last.

The afternoon had been pretty hectic at the Altea Gourmet Cafè, but finally, the shop had emptied itself of the customers for the afternoon, and Shiro had the chance to have a moment to himself. He poured himself a glass of water, taking his time to destress, gazing out of the big window on the wall.

It was starting to snow outside, white confetti leaving tiny wet halos on the pavement in front of the shop.

Shiro took a moment to relish into the sight of the Christmas lights sparkling in the street, getting brighter and brighter  with the arrival of the evening.

The tiny bell above the door rang, distracting Shiro from his train of thought. A slender figure in an oversized red hoodie hobbled inside, bringing the cold December wind with them. Shiro didn’t even need to look to know who they were. The clacking of a pair of crutches against the hardwood floor, the sigh of relief when the customer realized how warm it was inside. Shiro smiled.

“Hello, Keith!”

The other boy lowered the hood, exposing his black hair and frost-kissed, red cheeks.

Keith was a regular customer of the cafè. He studied Physics at the university down the road, and he had picked up the habit of stopping at the cafè every day after class. He and Shiro were close in age, Keith being just a couple of years younger than Shiro, and they quickly started befriending each other.

Keith was extremely introverted, but he was only human, and he wasn’t immune to the charm of that really good-looking barista.

When the cafè wasn’t crowded, Keith loved to spend some time at the counter with Shiro, sipping his latte and talking about literally anything.

But that evening, Keith didn’t really seem in the mood for chatting. He slowly hobbled his way to the counter, cursing under his breath when the wet tip of one of his crutches slipped and he almost faceplanted, managing to steady himself at the last moment.

Shiro gasped, but smiled at Keith again.

“That was a close call! Be careful. How’s your ankle?”

Keith reached the counter and climbed on a stool, not without difficulty, propping his crutches against the bar.

“Ankle hurts. But it’s not as swollen as it was two days ago. It’s starting to bruise though.”

Shiro whistled. Keith’s voice was rough and scratchy, way deeper than usual. Upon closer inspection, he could see how red rimmed his eyes were, and how scrubbed raw his nose looked, already starting to peel. Keith kept rubbing it against his sleeve, sniffing wetly.

“Wow, what was that? Did you swallow a toad or something?”

Keith groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his pale, slender fingers.

“Ugh, shuddup. Can you make me a tea? Any flavour will do.”

Shiro nodded, busying himself to brew the tea.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. Between the sprain and the sniffles, you really can’t catch a break this week.”

Keith rolled his eyes and tried to protest.

“I don’t have t-the… the s-…” a throat-scraping, painful sneeze escaped his lungs, leaving him to clutch his chest in discomfort. “…sdiffles.”

Shiro chuckled, plopping a teabag into the hot water.

“Yeah, and I’m the King of the Fairies. Here, take a napkin, your nose is running.”

Reluctantly, Keith plucked a couple of rough napkins and blew. It felt like sandpaper against his already chapped nose, but it was still better than using the sleeve of his hoodie.

A pained moan escaped Keith’s lips and Shiro felt bad for him.

“Listen, why don’t you go sit on that bench over there? You can stretch your leg and I can bring you a pillow, to make you more comfortable. Plus, it’s closer to the stove, you’ll be warmer. What do you think?”

Keith shrugged, then nodded.

“Yeah… I was planning to stay for a while anyway. I have work to do on my computer, and the wi-fi is fairly decent here. And I’m certainly not going home until it stops snowing. A sprained ankle is already enough, I don’t want to risk a broken leg.”

Keith limped to the bench, Shiro hot on his heels, cup of tea in his hands. Keith settled himself on the bench, stretching his leg on a chair on the opposite side of the table.

Keith coughed in his elbow and nodded gratefully when Shiro set the hot drink in front of him.

“Thank you. Sorry to be a nuisance.”

Shiro clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“You’re not a nuisance. I’m sorry you’re feeling so poorly.”

Keith sipped the tea tentatively, but his nose started to run and he dabbed at it with the napkin.

“It’s just a cold. And a sprain. I can deal with it. No need to be concerned.”

Shiro hesitated, and he was about to ask Keith if he wanted him to bring him other napkins, when three new customers entered the cafè, and Shiro had to excuse himself to serve them.

Keith just nodded, turning on his laptop and starting to work on his assignments.

In the following hour, a steady stream of customers kept Shiro busy, but the barista often found himself looking in the direction of Keith’s table, a crease of worry on his brow.

Keith seemed to be struggling. His eyes were puffy and glassy, and his nose and cheeks were bright red. He looked like he had trouble keeping his head up, and eventually Shiro found him fast asleep, with his head resting on his crossed arms.

Shiro had to keep himself from cooing. Keith looked incredibly cute, asleep with his head on the table like an exhausted baby cat.

Eventually, closing time came by. Shiro locked the front door and cleaned the coffee machine, before he headed to Keith’s table and gently shook him awake.

“Keith. Time to go, buddy.”

Keith gasped, lifting his head and looking around, disoriented. The only lights in the cafè were the strings of fairy lights around the shop window, golden flickers in a sea of darkness.

Keith rubbed his eyes and swallowed a few times, a pained expression on his face.

“What time is it? How long have I been asleep?”

“It’s 8 pm, and you’ve been out cold for a couple of hours. How are you feeling? You don’t look good at all.”

Keith sighed, and started collecting his things and stuffing them in his backpack.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry I’ve kept you here over your working time. I should go.”

He stopped to give in to a coughing fit, each cough sounding wetter and sicker than the previous one.

Shiro huffed, unrolling the sleeves of his shirt and taking off the black vest of his uniform.

“Keith, where do you think you’re going, exactly? Look at you, hurt and sick, wearing just a hoodie. It’s snowing heavily outside, you’ll catch your death if you go out like this. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Keith seemed to hesitate, picking up his crutches.

“Are you… really sure? My house isn’t far from here, I can make it.”

Shiro pulled his car keys out of his pocket, suggesting that he was not willing to negotiate.

“I insist. Come on.”

Keith caved in. He was cold, and his ankle hurt, and he felt overall too awful to argue. His sinuses felt like they were full of concrete, and he was really looking forward to burrowing under every blanket he owned.

They slowly made their way through the parking lot, Shiro standing by Keith’s side to make sure he didn’t slip on the slushy, grey mess on the ground.

Keith sighed in relief when he reached the passenger seat, and Shiro started the engine.

They stopped at a red light, and Shiro cranked up the heat.

“Stay at my place tonight.”

Keith almost choked on saliva, and ended up coughing and spluttering.

“What?”

“Stay at my place tonight,” Shiro repeated calmly.

Keith seemed uncomfortable.

“I don’t really want to disturb… I mean, I don’t want to be a burden. You’re probably tired after work.”

Shiro shot him a ‘no nonsense’ look.

“Keith, I mean it. Have you taken a look at yourself in the mirror today? You look like a zombie. Stay at my place. I can fix ourselves some dinner, and maybe a nice cup of tea too. I can also start a nice cozy fire. And somebody really needs to make sure you take some medicine for that cold.”

Keith sighed, as deep as his congested sinuses allowed him.

“How can I say no when you put it like that?”

Shiro rewarded him with his best supermodel smile, and Keith’s heart fluttered.

Damn, he thought, I want to kiss him.

Bugtober Day 12: Puzzle