So I Know I Have A Thousand Prompts To Fill, And I Apologize To All Of You Who’ve Sent Me A Request

So I know I have a thousand prompts to fill, and I apologize to all of you who’ve sent me a request forever ago. I fully intend on working on them once I’m on winter break (in about three weeks). Anyways, here’s a prompt fill for anon, I hope you don’t mind a college AU and that you feel better soon <3

It starts with a sneeze - it’s a scratchy, just barely congested sneeze that signals the beginning of a cold. It’s the kind of sneeze that tears Allura’s attention from her textbook to her husband who’s been lying on the couch with a blanket, watching Netflix through half-lidded eyes for the last two hours.

“Bless you…you okay?”

He sniffles, shivering lightly as he shrugs. He’s not - he’s felt awful all day - but those five words feel like they’ll take too much effort to get out, so he resigns to just shrugging with the hope she’ll pick up on it and come sit with him.

Allura stands up from the table and walks over to where he’s laying, presses a cool hand to his forehead and then purses her lips.

She flips her hand over so that she can run the back of her fingers up and down his cheek, “you seem warm…but not worryingly so.”

His breath hitches and he turns his head to muffle not one, not two, but three sneezes into the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Mmmngh…Allura,” he rasps, voice shredded and congested beyond belief.

“No wonder you’ve been so off lately. You sound awful, want some tea?”

“No…I just want to go to bed,” he whispers, rubbing at his throat with a grimace.

“Medicine and water first,” she says, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

Shiro rubs at his nose, and then ducks his head into the blanket with a sharp sneeze that makes his head throb. He sniffles, and pushes himself into a sitting position with a yawn before he pads into the kitchen, over to where Allura is rummaging through their stash of medication.

“I don’t need medicine,” he croaks, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head, “I’m fine.”

“Shiro, you sound miserable.”

He sniffles pitifully, and twists away from her to sneeze twice into his shoulder.

“See? You need sleep, and you won’t be able to if you’re sneezing all night.”

“Sleep is for the weak.”

She rolls her eyes, “not sleeping is what got you into this mess. Go lie down, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but the buzzing in his sinuses distract him, and he stumbles backwards and slams into the counter as he goes into a sneezing fit.

After the fifth sneeze, he groans and wipes at his nose with a miserable, stuffy sniffle, and Allura quirks a brow, “you are a hazard, go lie down before you hurt yourself.”

He groans and slides to the floor, holding his head in his hands, “give mbe a mbindute…dizzy.”

She crouches in front of him, and puts a hand on his cheek. She frowns and flips her hand to feel his forehead, “I think I know why…your fever spiked…how the hell? You didn’t seem nearly this warm a few minutes ago.”

He groans and blinks rapidly, trying to clear the dots that are clouding his vision, “I wandt to go to bed.”

“Do you think you’re going to pass out, or are you okay to move?”

“I’mb okehh…heh…Nngtsh! In’gsTCH! *snff*”

“Bless you,” she frowns, helping him stand up.

Three days later, Shiro and Allura are in bed. Shiro’s been awake for hours, and he already knows that he’s not getting up today, again. Everything is aching, and he feels too tired to move, let alone get out of bed and go to work. He already texted his boss that he wasn’t making it in, and then he promptly tossed his phone onto the ground, because the light was agitating his headache.

Part of him is tempted to wake Allura up, because he’s miserably stuffy and has been muffling coughs and sneezes for the better part of the last three hours. It’s only about six, though, and she was exhausted when she fell asleep, and he doesn’t want to bother her.

“Ihh…ihhtchiew! *snff*”

Shiro’s watery eyes snap to his wife’s sleeping form, and when she starts coughing, he puts a hand on her back.

“Allura?” He rasps, “baby, are you okay?”

She groans and flips around so she can bury her face in his chest, “m’tired.”

“Yeah, mbe too,” he croaks, but looks down and strokes her hair, “I cand feel how warmb you are through mby shirt…I think you have a fever.”

She groans, “everything kinda hurts.”

“Sambe here…you sound awful, by the way.”

She coughs again, shivering as she presses closer to Shiro.

“I feel awful.”

“I’mb sorry, Allura,” he groans, “this is all mby fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself…it was going to happen sooner or later.”

He sniffles, “‘kay…wannda mbove to the couch?”

“Shiro, we need to call someone,” she rasps, voice shot from all the coughing.

“I kndow,” he groans, muffling another scratchy and congested sneeze into his shoulder.

Allura coughs miserably, slumping into Shiro even more than before. She pulls the blankets up to her chin, and pulls her knees to her chest. Shiro’s head drops back, and he stares up at the ceiling, sniffling incessantly. Although it seems his fever had gone away for now, he still felt exhausted. He wraps his arm around her shoulders as she coughs, and stretches his legs out to rest on the coffee table.

Shiro had managed to make them tea before collapsing onto the couch in exhaustion. He was spent, and the short walk from the bedroom to the couch had exhausted Allura beyond belief. Allura is fading fast and needs medicine, and his head is so stuffy and he’s so fuzzy, he knows he needs medicine, too.

“Call Lance,” she croaks, “or Hunk…I really don’t feel well, Shiro.”

“I kndow,” he sniffles, “we’ll get you feeling better, I prombise.”

She’s half asleep when he dials Lance’s number, so he balances the phone between his ear and shoulder so he can rub her back with one hand and play with her hair with the other.

“Hey, Shiro, what’s up?”

He sniffles, “would you mbind doing us a f-feh…heh…Hih’ihGNXT!”

The phone falls to his lap, and Allura jerks awake as he mutters a string of curses.

“Wha-?”

“Sorry, hondey,” he mutters stuffily, sniffling miserably. He raises the phone back to his ear with a grimace, “Landce?”

“Are you dying? You sound like hell.”

“We’re both sick, guh *snff* would you mbind doing us a favor?”

“Yeah, sure. What do you need?”

“Umb…just…we’re too tired to get up, but Allura ndeeds mbedicinde, and we ndeed tissues and stuff, could you combe and help us?”

“Shit, you guys are too sick to get up?”

“Yeah…we tried, but-”

“-I’ll be there in a few. Try not to die until then.”

“Thanks, Landce.”

“Of course. See you soon.”

Shiro hangs up the phone, drowsiness hitting him like a brick wall as he feels himself beginning to drift off.

The last thing he remembers is Allura coughing and the door opening, and then, nothing.

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lillcarolyn

2 years ago

※幼児化要素有り

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lillcarolyn

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1/2/3/4/5/6/?

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lillcarolyn

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this is more of an experimental thing but I wanted to try animating the sprites around a little because it’s quite fun!! I might do more in the future?

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lillcarolyn

2 years ago

If my heart has to be stabbed so does yours

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lillcarolyn

2 years ago

I love super fussy caretakers so much. As soon as their partner starts coming down with the slightest cold symptoms, they’re already doting on them with tea, soup, backrubs, and wrapping them in blankets.

If the sickie still has to go to work or school, the caretaker is insistent about them wearing lots of warm layers and sends them off with a travel mug of tea and slips extra soft tissues into their pocket.

And when the sickie comes home later, tired and their cold much worse, their partner blesses all their stuffy sneezes sympathetically and cuddles them on the couch for the rest of the night, with lots of blankets and soup. 💜

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lillcarolyn

2 years ago

I still thrive off these three regularly.

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lillcarolyn

2 years ago

Bugtober 2022 Prompt 20: Bad Ending

This is one of the worst endings of the Mothwasp AU that I could think of.

Team Snakemouth has been defeated. Kabbu, Vi, and Leif have all been brainwashed by Hoaxe, and have been commanded to capture Luna and Shigeko.

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lillcarolyn

2 years ago

Bugtober Day 14: Spore

something much sillier 🍄 (just dont think about it too hard lol)

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lillcarolyn

9 months ago

forgot to post this thing i found in my garage

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lillcarolyn

2 years ago

Coughing, temp taking and "Hold me" for Victuuri :)

Sorry this took like 3000 years to do! I hope you like it!

～～～

(Caretaker’s pov)

“It’s okay, Victor. Just try and breathe. This will be over soon,” Yuuri tries to console the sick man next to him, an arm wrapped supportively around his back.

Victor doesn’t respond to Yuuri’s words, only continues to cough, a breathtaking fit that has Yuuri wincining with the intensity of it. Victor’s cough had come with his cold, both hitting him a couple of days ago. Victor’s fever had gradually gotten worse, and his coughs started sounding wetter and deeper, leaving him breathless and exhausted by the time his fits are over.

Victor hasn’t accepted much of the food Yuuri has offered, and with the force of Victor’s coughing, Yuuri is reluctant to force him to eat in case he ends up bringing it back up. Victor has hardly even been able to sleep, woken up by the incessant fits. Yuuri wakes with him every time, slinging his arm around Victor’s too-warm body and hauling him upright so he can breathe better.

Coughs pour and pour from Victor’s lips as they sit on the bed, and after a particularly rough sounding one, he finally catches his breath. With a shaky exhale, he lowers the tissue he had been holding against his mouth and tiredly tosses it in the direction of the waste bin. It doesn’t make it in, but there are more important things to worry about. Like Victor, who is leaning onーor more accurately, slumping overーYuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri feels the rise and fall of Victor’s chest as he takes panting, shallow breaths. His skin burns where it makes contact with Yuuri. Yuuri kisses his head and caresses his cheek, not missing the shiver that runs through Victor’s body as he does so.

“You’re fever hasn’t gone down at all…” Yuuri says, frowning. “I’m sorry you’re so sick.”

Sorry is an understatement. Victor has been miserable the entirety of this cold. He doesn’t seem like himself, and Yuuri just wants him well. Whenever Yuuri meets his eyes, they’re dull and glassy with fever, rather than that usual sparkling and stunning shade of blue. Whenever he kisses Victor, it’s on his burning forehead to asses the temperature, rather than on that heart-shaped mouth Yuuri loves so much and aches to see.

“Is there anything I can get you? Anything I can do that will help you feel better?” Yuuri offers.

The answer he gets in response is a weakly whimpered “hold me,” as Victor trembles against him. Without another word, Yuuri does. He holds Victor tight, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words of comfort until his eyes droop with exhaustion and sleep takes him once more.

～～～

(Sickie’s pov)

Yuuri is saying something to Victor, but the only thought that registers on his mind right now is the pain of the coughs scraping his abused throat. His lungs burn with the effort, his skin burns with fever, and his eyes burn from lack of sleep.

Yuuri has his arm around Victor, keeping him upright as he holds a tissue in front of his mouth and tries to eject the fluid from his lungs. Victor knows he’ll get over this cold faster if he does, but trying to do so is painful, to say the least. Still, he squeezes his eyes shut and lets the coughs tear up his throat.

After what feels like an eternity, the fit ends and Victor is at last able to breathe. He takes in short and rapid inhales, desperately trying to prevent another fit before it has a chance to start. The used tissue is tiredly tossed at the trash bin.

Victor is heavily weakened from the virus, sleep deprived, and on top of that these seemingly endless fits leave him panting and low on oxygen. He hardly even realizes he’s collapsed against Yuuri until an arm is gently rubbing his back and Yuuri is placing a kiss on top of Victor’s aching head which is resting on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Now that the latest fit is over and the haze of pain is (mostly) gone, Victor becomes more aware of his situation. He feels the sweltering heat his body is giving off, made no better by Yuuri so close to him. Despite the heat though, he has no desire to let go. Victor needs Yuuri close, needs the comfort that comes from the contact, no matter how hot and miserable he currently is.

He’s sure he looks even worse than he feels. Heavy bags are stamped under his eyes, weighing them down and begging him rest. A persistent headache pulses agonizingly in his skull. His high fever is noticeable in the bright red branded on his cheeks, bringing out the paleness of his complexion. Victor can feel it all, and he’s sure Yuuri can see it too.

And yet, Yuuri has stayed by his side, despite the mess he is. Yuuri has been so loving, getting Victor whatever he needs, taking such good care of himーeven on the odd occasions Victor’s fevered brain causes him to snap irritably at his caretaker. (He regrets it immediately after, more than once breaking down into tearful apologies.)

Yuuri has been nothing but kind, keeping Victor upright and easing the pressure on his chest, running his cool fingers through Victor’s messy and greasy hair as the coughs are pushed past his chapped lips.

Yuuri has been completely compassionate. Like now, as he caresses Victor’s cheek with his cool fingers, expresses his sympathy at Victor’s misery and asks if there’s anything he can do for him.

Victor whimpers out a feeble “hold me”, and just as soon as the plea leaves his mouth, Yuuri is tightening his arms around Victor as he embraces him. The heat is a bit much, but it’s bearable for the blissful feeling that is Yuuri once again petting his hair and whispering sweetly and softly until Victor is eventually eased back to sleep.

～～～

This was written for the two pov’s drabble challenge which can be found here!

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