#hh i m sorry i m just

[designernishiki]

hot take (aka headcanon) but I kinda think that nishiki and kiryu’s relationship pre-split wasn’t on both sides platonic/familial or fully romantic; I feel like nishiki had a thing for him (not sure if he fully realized it though) and that he had developed feelings for kiryu over the course of a good long time that were deeply confusing on their own, but even more so considering they would’ve been hard to sort out with what could just be attributed to close friendship or a familial-type bond.

and on the other side of this, kiryu was utterly oblivious and never thought to question what they had as being anything other than a close friendship or familial-type relationship or whatever it was being called out loud (we know kiryu, he’s blunt as hell and takes things at face value– not the best at reading between the lines) hence why the split between them, though both were clearly hurt a ton by it, hit nishiki harder and more acutely– because on top of losing the most important person in his life, which is bad enough, it would’ve crushed any tiny shred of hope he may have had to live out his long-time, perhaps even since-childhood fantasy of being by kiryu’s side forever as his one true confidant, in a more intimate way than as a friend.

[viemarin]

₊❏❜┊like, one of my special interests is spiders.

i follow a bunch of accounts on instagram that are about spiders, and whenever i (make the mistake to) check the comments, i see so many people calling them disgusting and posting GIFs of flamethrowers or things like that, and it’ s just so. . . upsetting ?

i’ m not saying you have to like them !! i know a lot of people are afraid of spiders and i wouldn’ t force them to interact with them, but can’ t they at least not bring it up on an account that solely talks about spiders ?

just. . . move on ?? leave me enjoy my silly little spiders without having people being like ‘ kill them ’

Seeing people hate on your special interest

[libraryraccoon]

I was wondering how a Dazai!Reader from BSD (preferably 15 year old Dazai) would interact with the HH crew

Btw, I love your stuff sm, have a lovely day if you see this!

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Info : I haven't watched BSD for a long time, so it's probably wrong/inaccurate, sorry. Reader have 15 years old.

Message fom Raccoon : What ? Dad!Lucifer ? Dad!Alastor ? Okay, take that Dad!Husk !

TW : Suicide (mentionned); SH (mentionned)

General Headcanon

Finally.

After all this years of trying, after all this attempts, you were finally dead !

And what do we do when we have achieved such a feat ? We drink until the morning !

As you drank, you recounted your feat of finally dying to the bartender, some sort of cat-bird demon.

He gave you a judgmental look when you told him you were 15 and died of suicide.

But you were used to it, people often judge you while you were alive and was trying every second to die.

After a few hours, you were drunk and followed the bartender back to his place, a small apartment in a quiet corner of Hell.

You shouldn't follow someone to their home, you know that, but for your defense, you were drunk and he was a cat. And you have a weakness for cats.

Two things making it impossible to refuse his invitation.

And, if anything ever went wrong, you always had your gun with you, which had appeared at the same time as you in Hell.

The bartender's name was Husk and he kind of adopted you ? You weren't even sure if one sinner could adopt another sinner.

Life was calm with Husk, and you somehow helped him with his work.

By that I mean you were stopping the powers of other demons with your power, so you used it to kick out all the assholes who attacked him from the bar.

You and Husk had this dynamic of "Father who will kill for his child & Child who will sacrifice themselves for their father."

And then, one day you had to move to the Hazbin Hotel because Husk find a work there.

Alastor was surprised to see that Husk now had a kid–he didn't think it was possible for an alcoholic like him to have a child.

And he learned that Husk had cut down on his drinking, so he could be a better father.

*very kindly and not at all suspiciously notes this fact in the back of his mind.*

The hotel was quite shocked to know that you were a child from a fucking mafia and that you had died of suicide at 15 years old. If Husk hadn't informed them about that, they never would have suspected it.

Your humor worries them more than anything else.

Charlie is worry every time you make jokes about suicide while your dad rolls his eyes at it.

Husk was used to your jokes after a few months of living together.

The hotel wasn't.

Charlie is like your older sister, optimistic and a little naive at times.

She always tries to make you see the bright side of things and to make you forget this idea of double death.

Spoiler : it doesn't work.

Lucifer sees you like one of his children.

He spoils you like he spoiled Charlie when she was just a child.

Husk often makes side eyes at him, accusing him of trying to steal his child.

And that was true.

Lucifer, Charlie, Husk and Angel Dust are the ones who are the most concerned about your mental health.

Alastor wanted to make you sign a contract "I become powerful and Alastor releases my father from his contract in exchange of stopping trying to kill myself."

You didn't sign it.

Alastor tried to use you to spy on Vox and the Vees because he was bored and wanted some entertainment.

It worked.

Alastor do radio shows with you sometimes, you two are called "The RadioDuo".

His audience LOVES you.

You gained Alastor some listeners btw.

You help Niffty with her work at the Hotel.

Even if Charlie said you didn't have to do it, you do it anyway.

Vaggie take all your guns because you apparently “didn’t need” them.

You managed to recover them with a little manipulation.

Angel Dust could see himself in you.

You reminded him of his little human self, Anthony, broken by the world and wanting to end it. A family running the Mafia and forcing him to join it.

You're a bit like him, but compared to him, who fought to survive, had a reason to survive, you had nothing, no reason to fight, and you gave up.

When Angel Dust isn't working, he usually stays with you and Husk.

He doesn't want to abandon you, leave you alone in such a rotten world. He wants you to be protected and to be the child you never could be.

He will never let anyone touch you, never.

Husk and Angel Dust are usually the ones who bandage you after SH, Angel Dust doesn't say anything as he does it, because he understands. Husk doesn't speak as well, but you can see that by doing so he's blaming himself, making you instantly regret it.

Don't try to kill yourself in front of them, please. They're already worried enough, don't add more.

Hotel Hazbin was, in a way, your family.

And you would kill everyone in this room before killing yourself before anything happened to them.

[darqx]

HEEEY MACARENA (ALRIGHT!)

Here's some long overdue BP and HH asks :) I tend to combine the two since there's not as many as the RADs, so this starts with BP and then moves into HH/Gen qs.

BP

MUAH ~ (I actually doodled this some time last year for fun and whimsy, based on those long mouth kiss meme pics XD)

A very quick overview of these types!

Vescordem: Maneaters/cannibals, excessively tall and strong.

Aleores: Minor dealmakers (goods and services). Jaw can unhinge and has venomous bite.

Sollicio: Major dealmakers - soul stealing ability. Often very good looking, has ichor powers.

Voxter: Ability to project 'thoughts' into someone else's mind - you ever have an intrusive thought? Same concept. All have a unique mark across the top part of their face.

Caumacies: Maneaters/cannibals, very strong. Has a third eye which sees only in heat vision - rarely opened simultaneously with normal eyes.

Hmm M or MA15 i think 🤔

You know, i actually have an idea for a game that has nothing to do with anything I'm currently doing XD One day i'll actually have time to make it, maybe. But anyway currently my actual project is i'm planning on making a comic \o/

I AM PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE that i have thumbnailed like 70 pages of this bloody thing and i'm still only in the first quarter of the planned chapters lol OTL Once i finish thumbing the chapter I'm on I plan to go back and render the pages properly before starting to post them :D

...which should hopefully give me a buffer as i repeat the process for the next chapters |D

You know, the concept of my characs being comfort characs for someone will never get old for me. It just tickles me pink ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ This answer will have two levels to it.

It's fine to RP or ask blog with Rire - he's one of my more "known" characs thanks to BTD so as long as credit is given (and it's made clear I'm not running the blog so it's not canon) then it's cool.

I'd prefer if no ask/RP blogs are created for any of my other BP or HH characs, as they are not as known yet. This may be revisited once i actually get the BP comic out but for now it's a no, sorry! (Though, if you are RPing in like...a private Discord with other friends who know who the characs are then I'm a bit more lenient with that.)

The reason for the BP/HH level is that ages ago when I had started establishing my own characs more, I randomly happened to find a forum where someone was RPing as Izm and .D but no one else knew who the characs were and so they clearly thought the RPer was the original artist and creator. Said RPer was not dissuading anyone of that notion. That has stuck with me for forever because at the time i never anticipated that someone would...actually try and do that with an OC. Like, bro srsly?!

One pet peeve for everyone:

.D: Willfully stupid people

Izm: .D smoking. He could care less if anyone else smokes but .D is not allowed on his watch

Marcus: Having decisions made for him without his input

Zeke: "How's the weather up there?"

Wei Ren: When people think he can't understand English cos he has an accent and so they deliberately speak slower and louder

Geez Caleb why are you damn RUDE

Here's one i prepared earlier! 😌

I'm not sure why you included Marcus as a demon, he's a human lol.

HH/More Gen

There are clubs which are created by students but need approval from the adults to exist.

HH is one of the better boarding schools which generally turn out successful alumni. The "obvious problems" we see are not actually obvious lol.

He doesn't need such manipulations.

Thanks! I hope you are inspired to go forth and create stuff! :D

One of the only perks of being a prefect at HH, really :d

Absolutely not lol

↓

4. These types of qs are always amusing to me only because you guys expect me to know but i absolutely do not XDD. Do normal people actually have a fave animal?? I dont even have a fave animal!! Anyway offshoot aside sorry that i can't even randomly assign anything, but if you are interested here is what they might be AS animals lol.

They actually don't have names because they were randomly designed NPCs i drew as like, placeholders |D;

Not including Rire or Nurse Isla:

.D is asexual, Izm is bisexual, and everyone else is straight probably. Caleb and Desmond are violently straight (as in Des is like very 90s stoner bro adamantly vocal about being straight and Caleb will actually try and break your neck for insinuating anything).

I have some female characs but I dont draw them that often as they are more side characs in BP and HH. The ones ive's drawn at least once are Isla (who looks like this, also doodled above), Tish (Des's sister) and Kenzie and Kelly (Zeke's sisters).

Every once in a blue moon i get an ask saying this but whenever i go to check nothing is wrong, so...nothing is wrong they do work |D; As the age old tech saying goes have you tried turning it off and on again? :d

Aren't those kind of things supposed to be...based on yourself??

[d6volution]

ASKS ARE OPEN BLESS

anyways!!

jax w a milf reader. mommy kink.

okay, i got quite a few requests for something like this, so i decided to write something small to test the waters...... ehmm i dont feel very confident in this department, but if the feedback is good, then i will write a part two. ☺️

tags: sub!jax , vibrators, overstim, mommy kink, light bondage.

"L.. Look, y/n.. I already apologized to gangle— zooble and .. kinger just.. let me out of this crap, yeah?" Jax tried to use his usual charm on you but it was becoming painstakingly clear that you didn't care. You simply hummed in response and this only made him that much more agitated.

After all, it wasn't every day he was literally tied up to the headboard of his own bed.

"Mhm, mhm.. and that's what you said last week Jax... and.. the week before that.." You smiled and straddled his lap and he grunted, shifting a little.

"Yeah, and? Ever heard of having fun toots?" He said and studied your expression.

"Oh, suure.. in fact, I think this will be lots of fun after all." You trailed a hand down his chest. Slowly removing the straps of his overalls, allowing them to fall down his shoulders. You watched him closely, but he looked to the side. Avoiding your gaze as heat crept on his cheeks.

"Y.. Yeah, but not when I'm .. tied up doll, heh— d.. don't you think this is a bit much?" Jax swallowed, trying his best to control himself, but his body was actively giving him away.

"Too much? I think it's just fine.." You rocked your hips a little and you could feel the bulge pressing against your thigh. "See?" You chuckled, "You're usually much more confident Jax.. what's going on, hmm? Mommy making you nervous?"

"You wish, babe." His hands tugged at the resitraints once again, "A—And you can't blame me for getting turned on.. tied up or not you're still hot. But, this ain't my thing doll." He said in a frustrated tone and you removed yourself from his lap, leaving his bulge out in the open no longer hidden between the valley of your thighs.

"Too bad, Jax. This is punishment you know. For causing so much chaos in the circus. My poor little gangle, do you really love making her cry that much?" You spoke while digging in your bag of 'toys'. Jax was actively trying to pull against his restraints and see what you were grabbing. "Look I already said I was sorry, what more do ya want from m—"

You were walking back towards him with something behind your back and Jax squinted. ".... whats that?"

You hummed and yanked his overalls down, slipping them from under beneath him. "You'll see."

"Just be a good boy and stay still for me," Jax shuddered at your words unconsciously, he couldn't think of any smart remark when he watched your pretty hands pull his dick from its confines, he was already semi-hard.

"Nnh.." He gasped as you attached a egg vibrator to the base of his cock right along one of the veins that protruded from his girth. You didn't waste time in turning it on the medium setting, with the little remote you held in your hands. A smirk playing on your lips.

His ears immediately shot up and his pupils got small, "W.. What the h- hell..!" He jolted, his hips bucked forward as pleasure coursed through his body without warning.

"How's that feel hmm? Nice and snug?"

"Th.. this is nothin'— ghhk..!" He tensed up again as you switched the setting to its highest, the buzzing sound got louder as it stimulated his dick, which was completely hard and standing at attention now.

"Shhh, that's it." You climbed next to him and stroked his chest. Your fingers tip toed down to his hard shaft and fingers danced around the tip which was already dripping with precum. "You can take it right? After all, I did promise Ragatha I would help mend her dress this afternoon.. so stay here and be a good boy for me okay?"

"W.. What you.. you aren't gonna— ngh.. leave me here right? C-Come on doll, hh— mmf!" You shoved your panties into his mouth. "Found these in your room too." You smiled, it was warm and gentle. Completely contradicting your actions.

"And to answer your question, yes, this is punishment remember dear?"

"Now, if you cum before I get back.. well, this will not the be the worse thing you go through.~"

You switched it down to the medium setting, just enough to keep him going but not enough to get him there completely. He groaned and pulled against the resitraints as you walked out of the door, shutting and locking it behind you.

Jax shuddered and bucked his hips against the vibrator, his eyes getting glossy from the stimulation.. all he could do was sit there and take it. His moans muffled by the underwear in his mouth.

About 45 minutes went by before you entered the room again, Jax immediately perked up, his eyes were glossy from crying and his hands were trembling beneath the restraints. The once sassy bunny was being reduced to whining and begging mess before your eyes. And it was absolutely delicious..

"Hmm? Something you wanna say?" You said and sat next to him on the bed, removing the gag gently from his mouth he began to beg before the gag was even fully out.

"Pl.. please, please... y/n.. l... let me cum.. f..fuck.." He whimpered , but still couldn't face you. It was too embarrassing but he couldn't take it, he was so close but this wasn't enough to push him over the edge.

"Oh? Now you wanna be nice? Gonna look at me, little bunny?" You said and tilted your head a little, trying to catch his gaze.

He finally looked you in the, feeling more pathetic than ever. "Mm...mommy.. please... j..just let me come.."

Now you were a little taken aback, either he was extremely easy to break or... he was actually more into this then he was letting on. You felt your stomach do flips , being called mommy by the one person in the circus who seemed the most against it was invigorating.

"Hmm.. I'm not convinced. Beg some more and I'll let you come baby." You leaned in and placed a kiss on his jaw, trying your hardest to keep your hands off of him. This was for punishment , he didn't deserve that yet.

He looked frustrated by your demands but that was quickly wiped away by the pleasure that washed over him again as he got closer to his climax once more. Unfortunately it he didn't comply it'd probably fizzle out again.

"Nnhg.. please, please.. mommy... need to cum.. please.. i.. ill be a good boy.. pr-promise.." Suddenly the vibrator was turned up to high and he immediately came like clockwork, ropes of cum shot from his angry tip and all over his chest. He groaned and panted, his body trembling from the release.

"Mmn.. there you go, not so hard was it..?" You smiled and turned the vibrator off, giving him a chance to finally relax his body. "Such a good boy for me.. think you can take some more, hmm..?"

"Mmn.. w-won't tell anyone..?" He said, still strung out from his high.

"It'll be our little secret.~" You purred.

[ohgodimafraud]

5x r/eigen sneezed incidentally and 1 time he did it on purpose - m/ob p/sycho

r/eigen x s/erizawa, kink!s/erizawa

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 +1

Perfume

Serizawa was used to Reigen’s quirks, his fast talking, his wild gesticulating, and his questionable claims and methods. He was even desensitized to his sudden yelling and general intensity. The things that used to raise his anxiety to sky high levels were now routine and mundane.

“Hh- huh’EUSHh’ewh! …Ughh… hehh…hh!-…hHEDTSCHh’iew! -huh.”

That was another story.

Serizawa held his breath and looked away as Reigen blew his nose into the same tissue he’d used to catch the pair of violent sneezes. The polite thing to do was to ignore it. Easier said than done, considering it was just the two of them alone. Maybe he should’ve said bless you instead, but he was pretty sure he’d already missed the time window. And now he was certain.

“Sorry, ugh. That lady’s perfume was rhh-really, ahem, strong.” 

Serizawa nodded. “Yeah.” He could smell that client from the moment she’d opened the door. Older women tended to really like Reigen, and this one had been particularly handsy with him throughout the consultation and in her wake had left a cloud of sickly-sweet perfume to slowly diffuse throughout the room. Knowing those particularly wrenching sounding sneezes had a cause did things to Serizawa that he’d prefer to only acknowledge in the privacy of his home. 

“Excuse me,” Reigen said, snatching another tissue and glancing up at the light for a moment to help the itch in his nose surge past the point of no return. “heh…hh…EUSCHhiu!” 

The tissue was visibly soggy, and Reigen pulled a face as he discarded it and rubbed hand sanitizer into his palms. 

“...Are you okay?” Serizawa asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he said, waving one hand while his other pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged a few circles into his skin. The explicit squelching sound that followed the action echoed a few times in Serizawa’s inner ear in spite of his best efforts to disregard it. He discarded the tissue and let out a noise of discontent. “Ugh.” 

If Serizawa had learned one thing about Reigen it’s that he could hold a conversation with a brick wall and not run out of words. And right now, he was sure he could only focus on one subject.

“I was trying so heh— so hard not t-to hheh… w-wait… hh… hehDSCHh’ew!” This time he wasn’t fast enough in bringing up a fresh tissue to catch the sneeze and ended up spraying his fist instead in an attempt to cover his mouth and nose. Belatedly, he grabbed a few tissues for his nose which was already scrunching with irritation, and he managed to get it up just as his nasal sills began to glisten in the light. He blew his nose gently and rubbed his nose vigorously before tossing and replacing the tissue.  

“Ugh, god,” he bemoaned, pausing to sniffle and wipe the droplets from his hand with the fresh tissue, “Anyway, uh, at least I didn’t sneeze on her when I was performing that exorcism.”

“...Yeah.” 

Upon further inspection, Serizawa could see a speckled dark gray pattern on the sleeve of  Reigen’s jacket. His ears went hot as he tried to shove this exchange into an imaginary file cabinet within his mind for later. 

Reigen blew his nose again. “God, like, it’s in my nose, it’s in my ch-heh- damnit!—H’GSHschhu! -guh.” He rubbed his nose again through the tissue and groaned. “It burns like hell.”

“I’ll, uh, open a window.”

“Thank you.”

Serizawa figured this would help the both of them solve their respective problems. He was about a minute into somewhat successfully willing his dick to stop standing at attention to stand by instead when he turned around and realized Reigen was staring at him. This couldn't be good. Could he have noticed? 

“Are you alright?” Reigen asked. 

“I'm fine, thank you for asking.” Serizawa winced at the way the words tumbled out of his mouth and cleared his throat.

“Oh,” Reigen murmured, giving him a closer look, “Was it bothering you too?”

“Yeah, I—I have a headache,” he lied, though, at this ratte he was sure he really was going to have one later. 

“I see. That sucks” Reigen’s brow furrowed. “Well, sorry for all the noise, I’m sure it’s just making things worse.”

Serizawa could feel the heat rushing to his face as scanned the room for an out. He looked at the empty cup on Reigen’s desk. Maybe there was a god.

“Not at all. I’ll make some more tea.”

Thankfully, Serizawa was facing away from Reigen because his blush only worsened when Reigen made a poor attempt at stifling another sneeze, letting out a shuddering breath afterwards. “hGNKk’ch…huhh…” 

Oh shit. Was he doing that on Serizawa’s behalf? Yeah, there was no way he’d be able to turn around from the kettle anytime soon.

“I’ll be right back,” Reigen said, followed by the familiar sound of tissues being pulled from the box. 

After about fifteen minutes in the restroom, he returned with a red nose and watery eyes, but had managed to stop sneezing for the rest of the day. He also suddenly had a lot less to say than usual, and for the rest of the day Serizawa felt a twist in his chest every time he saw him pinching the bridge of his nose.

[bedoballoons]

Could I request Neuvilette receiving a paizuri from his wife?

Yesssss!!! Thank you for your request an I hope you enjoy! Sorry it took a long time to write <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Paizuri~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Bottom Fem reader, established relationship, c*m shot, tit f*cking and Neuvillette calls the reader dearest/darling/goregous and mentions her being a good girl!!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

You gasped quietly as Neuvillettes hand slid up your shirt, his warm fingers slowly tracing over the soft skin of your back until he made his way to the band of your bra and unclipped it with a satisfying snap, releasing your bouncy breasts from their cage and relieving you of their weight with a breathy moan. His lips were still against yours, the kiss growing ever needier with his tongue exploring your mouth excitedly...you were truly the most amazing wife he could ask for, beautiful and such a good girl for him, ready to please him just the way he liked.

You pulled away just long enough to lift your shirt above your head, letting your tits drop out with a satisfying bounce while Neuvillette watched in delight, licking his lips eagerly as he leaned into the crook of your neck, his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear, "Dearest, please don't just tease~" His voice was deep with lust, a low groan escaping him as you rubbed your knee between his legs, grazing his throbbing member.

You placed your hands on his chest, shoving him back just enough so he fell onto the bed behind him, his white hair sprawling out against the sheets as you trailed your fingers up his legs and to his pants, undoing them with ease while his eyes stayed trained on your beautiful breasts, "Mmm, my darling, you're the epitome of perfect~" Your heart skipped a beat, he was always so sweet with his words and butterflies always appeared in your stomach whenever he complimented you, even at a time like this he knew how to make you feel wonderful.

"Neuvie~" You said quietly, releasing his cock from his undergarments, shocked to see how it sprang up so well, tip already soiled with precum. He hissed at the cold touching his sensitive skin, but you didn't let it last long as you pressed your tits tightly around his length and slowly moved them up to the tip, letting the precum drip down your soft mounds to use as lubricant. "Yesss, now move for me goregous mmm~" He moaned as you followed his instructions, sliding your breasts up and down his dick and kitten licking the tip of it every so often just to watch his hands clench the sheets.

It always amazed you how your husband could be the prim proper Chief of justice one moment and then become so completely unraveled by your chest that his sentences no longer made any sense, his voice going hoarse from the loud moans you won from him with every movement, "Mnnnhhgh, you feel so wonderful d-darling, such a good girl for m-me, nhhh-hh~" His praise only made you go faster, your tits jiggling everytime you lifted them and your cunt wet at the sounds he was making, you were starting to need him just as bad as he needed release.

"Ahhhng!~" He groaned loudly, his body rising off the bed as your stared up at him with doe eyes, he was hoping to last longer but his cum shot out before he could stop himself, covering your chest in his sticky hot seed while you continued to to please him through his high. Your wetness had seeped through your underwear by then, dripping down your legs as you crawled on top of him, "Can your good girl have her turn now?~"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Happy kinktober~*⁠.⁠✧

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Show & Tell (M, cold)

Mark & Matt are back! In this, Matt has an awful cold and they have a busy night. That's pretty much it lol, there's a good amount of ~drama~ because who doesn't love drama? This takes place a couple months after 'Three', when Matt and Mark are dating but haven't told Greyson or Elijah and I'll be honest I've spent a lot of time on it and don't know if I even like it lmao. I hope you guys do, though!! It might suck, who knows!! Also, there's no sick character POV - it switches between Mark and Greyson's POV.

Ok, onward. Let me know how you guys feel about it lol.

CW: Male snz, cold, contagion mention, coughing, fever.

Show & Tell

“It’s not that I don’t want them to know. You know that.”

Mark gave his boyfriend a sidelong look; did he know that? He wasn’t so sure. “Matt,” he said, treading carefully, “it’s been three months. They’re going to figure it out sooner or later.”

Matt sighed, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “I know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… I mean, Greyson can be… I don’t know… touchy, I guess, about like, relationship stuff. Especially since the whole… Collin thing. And also, he can just be an asshole about dating within the kitchen. You remember when he caught us kissing.”

“Yeah, but I mean that’s just what you guys do, right? Poke fun at each other? And the Collin thing… That was, like, a year ago, Matt. He’s a grown man.”

There was a pause, then, and Mark knew he’d gone too far. Greyson and Matt’s relationship was way more than boss and employee; Greyson had taken a chance on Matt when no one else would. He’d given him opportunities that Matt couldn’t have dreamed of as a kid, and Matt was always quick to point that out when Mark grumbled about Greyson’s anger, or when he called Matt in on his day off, or the way he made fun of Matt making doe-eyes at Mark. Greyson has been there for me since the moment I met him, he always said. You have to take the good with the bad.

More often than not, Mark found himself rolling his eyes at this statement, or muttering Whatever, babe, under his breath, but he also didn’t want to push his new beau away. If Greyson was a weird non-participatory third in their burgeoning relationship… so be it. He’d put up with it, for Matt.

“Hey, I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean that; I know, you’re right, he’s been through it.” Mark pulled Matt in for a hug, making the other man soften. “I’m just saying,” Mark said, pulling away, “that if he doesn’t already know, he’s going to have to find out eventually. Right?”

Matt shrugged, then begrudgingly nodded. “You’re right, you’re right, just… I don’t know, give me a week. Let me take him out and actually tell him so it’s not just, like, a big joke that he parades through the kitchen. Okay?”

Mark smiled. “Okay. Yes, that works. Thank you, baby.” He swept Matt’s bangs off his face, allowed a frown to settle over his own. “You feel really warm. By the way.”

Without missing a beat, Matt pulled away and ducked into the sleeve of his hoodie. “Hh-! Hh’ITSZH-ue!”

“Bless you.”

“I’m okay,” Matt said in response. “Like I said before, I think it’s just allergies.”

“...Fever-inducing allergies?”

“Honey,” Matt said, pulling a hand down his face, “please drop it. We have like two hundred on the books tonight, it’s not like I could call out or anything.”

“So you feel badly enough to call out?” Mark asked, crossing his arms. Matt sighed, loudly enough for Mark to hear the congestion in his chest rattle.

“No,” Matt said. “I don’t.”

“Mmm.”

“Can we go back to arguing about me telling Greyson and Elijah we’re dating? I’d prefer that over getting the third degree about what is, at most, a cold,” Matt said, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. Mark raised an eyebrow.

“So now it’s a cold. Moments ago, you said it was allergies. What’s it going to be by the time you get to work? Bubonic plague?”

“I was thinking something a little more modern. Maybe scarlet fever. Hh- hh’ISHHH-uhh!” Matt crumpled to the side once again, and Mark sighed.

“Hilarious,” he said, deadpan. “You should take some dayquil, or something.”

“I’m okay, honey, really,” Matt said, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you this evening, okay?”

Mark hesitated; what would a good boyfriend do here? He assumed a good boyfriend would scoop Matt into his arms and place him in bed. A good boyfriend would call in for Matt – hell, call in for both of them so he could take care of his boyfriend – and tell Greyson and Elijah to figure it out, restaurant-be-damned. He’d spoon-feed Matt soup and they’d watch Criminal Minds and talk about who on the show was the most objectively fuckable and they’d fall asleep early and in the morning, Matt would be good as new.

But a good boyfriend would also tell their bosses they were dating; a good boyfriend wouldn’t put the onus on Matt to tell Greyson before Mark told Elijah because Greyson was an objectively harder person to tell. A good boyfriend wouldn’t give Matt shit for being nervous because him telling Greyson was akin to Mark telling his own father he was gay and fuck, Matt didn’t even have a father to tell, you asshole, you inconsiderate piece of shit.

He wasn’t a good boyfriend, that much he knew. So instead of manning up in any way whatsoever, Mark nodded and kissed Matt on his hot forehead. “See you tonight,” he said, and continued to kick himself as Matt trudged out the front door.

***

“They’ll tell us when they’re ready.”

Greyson rolled his eyes so hard that they felt like they might pop out of his head. “Oh c’mon, Lij, that’s such a cop-out,” he said, snapping inventory papers onto a clipboard and clicking a pen open and shut many more times than was necessary. “It’s been, what? Like almost four months since the whole making-out-in-my-bathroom incident? And it’s not like they’re good at hiding it, I think Matt slaps Mark’s ass fifty times a day.”

“Is that really new, though? You slap Matt’s ass fifty times a day,” Elijah said, glancing up from his own, much-better-organized inventory clipboard. “I thought ass-slapping was just par for the course in this kitchen. You’ve created a culture of ass-slapping.”

“That’s within the kitchen boundary, Lij,” Greyson said, his index finger and thumb pressed together and punctuating each word of this statement. “Mark is outside the kitchen boundary. The rules are different.”

Elijah snorted out a laugh. “My mistake,” he said, flipping the first page on his clipboard and examining the second. “I figured that culture extended to the whole restaurant.”

“Damn right your mistake,” Greyson muttered. He glanced back down at his papers, then tossed the clipboard on the desk and snatched Elijah’s out of his hand to toss as well.

“Dude,” Elijah said, “I was using that.”

“Do you think Matt’s scared to tell me?” Greyson asked, ignoring Elijah’s annoyance. “It’s not like I’d care. I mean, the whole thing makes sense, they spend seventy hours a week here together. It’s not like it’s easy to find someone to date outside this place, and trust me, it’s not like he’s missing out on anything in the regular world. Shit, if you were down, I’d start dating you.”

“I’d rather eat a jean jacket than date you,” Elijah said, leaning on an elbow on the desk. “And that’s not even because you don’t have my preferred equipment, it’s because of who you are. Fundamentally. As a person.”

“I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell me,” Greyson said, ignoring Elijah’s statement outright. “Matt’s my dude. He’s my muse. He’s like if I had a kid, but didn’t have to do the gross horrible raising him part. He knows he can tell me anything.”

Elijah sighed, a heavy and resigned sound, and took the bait. “Grey,” he said, “yes, he knows he can tell you anything, but he also knows he’s going to get so much shit from you when he does tell you. I’m sure he’s just trying to spare himself the three weeks of jokes about the two of them dating. Maybe, if you could be serious for five fuckin’ minutes, you could approach him and ask him, hey, are you and Mark dating?” Elijah shrugged, both hands held in front of him as though to say just an idea.

Greyson scoffed, annoyed. “You’re one to talk. It’s not like Mark has told you.”

“Yeah, but Mark and I are coworkers. We don’t have some weird father/son codependent relationship like you two. Plus, Mark is only a talker when he drinks and he hasn’t had more than a glass of wine in front of me since they got together, so he knows I know he’s avoiding the conversation.” Elijah gave Greyson a pointed look then. “I’m sure he’s waiting for Matt to tell you. Dad.”

The chef rolled his eyes again and pushed himself to a standing position. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going to talk to him about it today. And I’ll be serious.”

“Great,” Elijah said, picking his clipboard back up. “I’m happy for both of you.”

Greyson placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder as he walked out of the office and towards the prep kitchen, a gesture to thank him for the pep talk, and Elijah nodded in understanding. It wasn’t the fact that Matt had a not-so-well-kept secret that Greyson found troubling; it was the fact that he felt like he wasn’t able to tell his boss that hurt Greyson’s feelings. The chef got set up in the prep kitchen, pulled out his chef’s knife, and began sharpening it on his steel. He really thought he’d put it in Matt’s head that he could tell him anything. Apparently he’d been wrong.

As if summoned, Matt picked that exact moment to blow through the back kitchen doors – he was wearing a sweatshirt, despite the fact that it was unseasonably warm, and his hood was up. Greyson drew his eyebrows together, confused.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Greyson called from his prep station. Matt swung around, obviously not expecting to see his boss the moment he walked in, and his face immediately crumpled.

“Hh- hhNGTSHZ-ue!” Matt attempted to stifle a sneeze into his elbow, which backfired immediately. “ITSZZHH-ue! Hh’ITZCHH-ue! HRRSHH-ue!”

Greyson blinked, surprised, as his sous gave into the paroxysm. “Wow,” he said when Matt finally stood upright, clearing his throat. “Bless.”

Matt nodded, swallowed, winced. “Yeah. Thangks,” he said, his voice low and congested. He walked towards the prep station – slunk may have been the more appropriate word – and hoisted his knife bag onto the counter. The next few moves seemed robotic, as though the sous chef were on autopilot; push hoodie off head. Roll up sleeves. Unzip bag. Make eye contact with boss. “What ndeeds to get prepped first?”

Up close, Matt looked like an even bigger pile of hot garbage than he sounded; he was pale – sallow, Greyson thought to himself, then vocab word of the day -, his eyes red-rimmed and laden with bags. His breathing seemed painful, labored, and uneven, and before Greyson could say anything, Matt turned back to his rolled-up sleeve to cough. “Dude,” Greyson said, taking a step back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Matt muttered, getting himself together. He walked to the sink and washed his hands, then turned back to Greyson. “Better?”

“That wasn’t what I meant by ‘dude’,” Greyson said, taking a step towards his sous and slapping a hand on his forehead. “That was ‘dude’ as in ‘dude, you look like fucking shit’.”

Matt wiggled out from under Greyson’s hand, annoyed. “I’mb fine, Chef,” he said. “Tell mbe what needs to get done.”

Greyson rubbed his face and gathered his hair on top of his head, buying time. Obviously, the conversation about him and Mark was off the table for the moment, but were they not allowed to talk about Matt’s very obvious illness, either? “Did you take anything?” Greyson asked, ignoring his sous’ question with one of his own.

“I was running late. Also, I don’t ndeed anythi- ITTTSZZHH-ue! HRSHHH-uh!” Matt folded himself in half to avoid sneezing in Greyson’s face, and collapsed into a coughing fit from the force of them. Greyson pressed his lips together.

“Where’d you pick this shit up?” Greyson asked, patting Matt’s back as the younger man tried to compose himself. “You haven’t been out on the prowl with me in months, so I take no blame.”

It was an attempt – a very obvious one – to get Matt to admit he was at least seeing someone, but either Matt wasn’t taking the bait or he didn’t hear him over his own misery. He cleared his throat and stood to his full height. “Can we please just start cooking? I ndeed a distraction.”

Greyson pressed his lips together; somehow, they’d had a whole conversation without really saying anything, a whole back-and-forth with not one question answered. “Okay,” Greyson said, stepping to the side to let Matt get situated at the prep table. “I’m going to grab some shit from the walk-in. You get set up.”

Matt nodded, obviously grateful, and started setting up his things while Greyson turned towards the walk-in.

Well, he thought to himself, sarcastically. That was productive.

***

“Alright, everyone, so we have 245 on the books toni -”

“HhuhhhITSZHHH-ue! Huh-! HhhRRSHH-oo!”

The servers’ heads popped up from their notes in unison and turned towards the closed kitchen doors, ten yards away. Mark cringed; Elijah raised his eyebrows towards Greyson, and the Executive Chef sighed and stood. “I’m gonna go check and make sure he didn’t burst a blood vessel,” he joked, prompting a collective giggle from the servers. Mark felt his heart sink deep into the pit of his stomach.

At his apartment this morning, Matt had clearly been coming down with something. Since he’d arrived at work, it was clear that whatever it was had settled in nicely; Mark had only been at work for two hours, but in those he’d heard Matt sneeze more than he had the entirety of their relationship.

“Jesus,” Mark had said when he first saw Matt, doubled over behind the prep table. “That really went from zero to a hundred. I just saw you, like, four hours ago.”

Matt had attempted to clear his throat before addressing his boyfriend: “Yeah, I guess,” he said, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie down to his wrists and shivering. Mark wanted desperately to tell him to go lay down in a booth or something – better yet, to tell him to go home and go to bed – but he knew he couldn’t do either.

“Can I get you some tea?” he asked instead, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from feeling Matt’s face for fever. Matt shook his head.

“’M fine,” he managed, picking his knife back up and wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “’S just a stupid cold.”

That had been about as far as their conversation had gone; Mark had been whisked away by Elijah to help set the floor up, and Matt had been forced to put his head back down and continue prepping. Normally, Matt would’ve been in pre-shift with the rest of the team, but Greyson had explained when everyone sat down that he was attempting to gain his second wind in the office and wouldn’t be joining.

“Anyway,” Mark continued, addressing the servers while Greyson stood to check on Matt, “like I said: 245 on the books. We do have a few VIPs…”

The servers jotted down what they needed to, and Mark finished his speech on autopilot. Elijah said something about uniforms being cleaned and pressed, and Greyson came back to join them all after a minute or two spent in the kitchen. When pre-shift ended, Greyson stopped Mark from walking away with the rest of the front of house.

“Mark,” Greyson said as the servers went to eat family meal, “hold back a second.”

Mark could feel himself immediately break into a cold sweat; Greyson never wanted to talk to him after pre-shift. Had he fucked up somehow? He knew they were too busy – overbooked, really – but Elijah had approved it. Said they needed the extra covers, since they’d be closed for a week next month. Maybe Elijah hadn’t told Greyson he’d approved the overbooking? Maybe -

“Hey, I just – I wanted to talk to you about Matt,” Greyson said when the servers had all exited to the kitchen. Mark swallowed, his throat dry. Oh.

“What about him?” Mark asked, his heart beating in his temples. Greyson huffed out a little laugh.

“You guys are dating,” he said – not a question. A statement. Mark’s face flamed.

“Did he – have you guys talked?” he asked, feeling his throat close. Greyson shook his head, a smile blooming on his face.

“Nope,” he said, palming Mark’s shoulder. “But now we don’t need to. Elijah!” he called into the kitchen, and Mark felt himself fly into action. He stumbled in front of Greyson before the chef could walk through the kitchen doors.

“Chef,” he said, holding his arms out so Greyson couldn’t get by, “you can’t tell Matt that you know. Seriously, he’ll kill me, he – I mean, he wanted to tell you himself, he said he was going to, like, sit you down and tell you and -”

“Sit me down? He’s not breaking up with me to be with you, I’m so fuckin’ confused why you guys haven’t just told us, it’s not like it’s a big deal -”

“It’s a big deal to him,” Mark said, cutting Greyson off. “It’s a big deal to Matt. I think – fuck, I don’t know, Chef, I think it’s like… you’re his person he gets to tell. You know? And he’s not feeling well and we kind of argued about it this morning and… please,” Mark said, biting his cheek to keep from crying. “Please, Chef. Just… he’ll tell you. Just wait for him to tell you.”

Greyson closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Okay. I’ll wait till the end of the week,” he said, moving Mark’s arm to get into the kitchen. “But if he hasn’t said anything by then, I’m saying something.”

Mark just nodded, and let Greyson by. You fucking moron, he chided himself. You absolute asshole. You gave it away, Matt is going to be so fucking disappointed, you’re such a dick, you can’t even let him have this one fucking thing. You just have to fuck everything up somehow. What the fuck is wrong with you?

What the FUCK is wrong with you?

***

Greyson would have been hard-pressed to think of a more difficult service than this one was turning out to be.

It had started fine; the flow of the evening was laid out well, the first turn went off basically without a hitch. Matt was on middle, and had loaded up on every medicine the office pharmacy had to offer, so while he was a little… high, honestly, he was at least in good spirits and able to do his job.

“We doing okay back there, everyone?” Greyson asked, peeking past the board filled with tickets to acknowledge his cooks, and Matt.

“Yes, Chef,” they answered – all except Matt, who hooted as though Greyson was a singer asking his audience how everyone was feeling out there. Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Only two hundred covers to go!” Greyson shouted as the printer spat out yet another ticket. “Order in, two salmon, three pork.”

About sixty covers in, things began to turn; the servers began to slow down, sending their food in as fire-alls instead of coursed out. The bar became backed up, so Mark was taking bartop guest’s orders and ringing them all in at once, sending a huge wave of tickets in at once – annoying, sure, but something they could handle. But then, tickets stopped coming in altogether – first, for five minutes. Then seven. Then ten.

“Elijah!” Greyson called into the dining room, not caring if the guests heard. The GM ran in at the sound of his name. “The fuck is going on, dude? We have ZERO tickets on the board.”

Elijah winced. “Yeah,” he said, “everyone is camping. We have like thirty people waiting to sit.” Greyson blinked.

“You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not.”

“So you’re telling me, at least thirty people are going to sit down all at once. And order all at once.”

Elijah nodded, solemn. “I wish I wasn’t, but yes, Chef, that’s what I’m telling you.”

Of course, by the time the first set of guests got up and the second set sat down, they had a new problem: Matt.

It was seven o’clock; Matt had taken his last dose of medicine at four, and sitting around waiting on tickets to come rolling in again had stopped the flow of adrenaline. His misery seemed to have caught up with him completely just as the tickets started printing again.

“Order in,” Greyson called for the tenth time in three minutes, “a scallop, three filets, and a venison no dairy.”

“Heard, Che – HTSHH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side to sneeze into the sleeve of his chef’s coat, an angry, grating sound that made the cooks wince. He coughed painfully into his shoulder, obviously trying to hold back. Greyson bit his cheek.

“Bless, Chef,” he called over the line, pulling yet another stream of tickets. “Christ… ok, guys, I’m going to read all these but let’s just focus on what I just called for now, these people… I mean, they’re going to have to wait.”

“Yes, Chef,” the cooks called – all except Matt. Instead of the goofy whoops from earlier in the evening, Matt responded by ducking beneath the line.

“HRRSHH! Huh-! Hh’ITZZHH-uh! NGTSHZZH-ue! Hh… hhhuh-ITZSHH-ue!” Matt covered his head with his arms, careful not to spray them, and sneezed into his lap until he sounded hoarse. Greyson could hear him attempt to sniffle, to no avail. He stood, shakily, and cleared his throat. “Heard, Chef,” he whispered, his voice hanging on by a thread.

Greyson pressed his lips together, feeling the temperature of his blood raising. God, this fucking kid – he should’ve stayed home, what good was it doing anyone having him here, sneezing himself hoarse, coughing til he was dizzy, probably infecting all the cooks and most likely over or under cooking all the fish. Greyson wanted to snap, Pull it together, but held back.

“Bless, Chef,” he called again, pointedly. Matt just nodded, dazed.

“Go ahead and call the ndext tickets, Chef,” Matt croaked. Greyson sighed, looked up, and yanked the tickets off the printer.

“Order in,” he said again, and again, and again.

***

The dining room was a fucking disaster.

Mark’s head felt like it was screwed on backwards; he could feel himself failing, and with every misstep he hated himself more. Can’t you put the tickets in right? Tracy asked you to help take the order for 32, have you gotten over there? This bar is filled with drinks, the hell are you doing?

If the dining room wasn’t bad enough, in the kitchen Greyson was clearly about to be sent straight over the edge.

“I need runners!” he called from expo, loud enough for everyone in the dining room to hear. Mark cringed, dropped what he was doing, and ran into the kitchen. The printer wouldn’t stop; the window was filled with plates, and the servers were tripping over themselves to get the food onto trays and out into the dining room.

“Mark! Take these, table 24,” Greyson said, pressing three scorching-hot plates into the floor manager’s hands. “And come right back, this fucking food is going to go bad in about three seconds. Order in!”

Mark took the food, dropped it, assessed the red marks on his hands and wrists and headed back to the kitchen. All of this would’ve been par for the course for a Saturday night, really, if not for -

“HTTSHH! HRRRSHH-uh! Hh’NGTTSZHH-ue!”

Matt.

The whole staff could tell he was fading fast. It was eight-thirty, and since about seven he hadn’t managed to go more than a couple minutes without collapsing into a fit of sneezes or coughs. His voice was completely gone at this point, and Mark could tell – even from ten feet away – that he had a pretty significant fever. All of this seemed to just further enrage Greyson.

“Chef,” Greyson called behind the line. “Get your third wind, I’m fucking dying up here I need this food out now! Order in, three salmon, two filets!”

“Yes, Chef,” Matt called, his voice so mangled Mark wasn’t sure how he’d even managed to get the words out. God, this was bad. This was so fucking bad.

***

There was no way they were going to get through all these tickets. There was just no fucking way.

It all felt like a nightmare at this point; Greyson was up to his elbows in tickets that just kept flowing. The food was dying in the windows, servers were grabbing shit that wasn’t theirs and fucking up what little flow they had going. Elijah was pouring free wine because ticket times were over forty minutes. And Matt was completely and totally stick-a-fork-in-him done.

At nine-fifteen, with twenty tickets on the board, Greyson looked up to ask his sous if table 55 was going to be up anytime soon; only to see Matt, caught in pre-sneeze torture with a knife in his right hand, moments away from splitting his left hand open.

“Matt!” Greyson screamed, and the sous chef snapped out of his daze and dropped the knife onto the cutting board. He gasped at the realization that he’d been millimeters away from maiming himself.

Enough is enough, Greyson thought to himself. “Mark!” he called into the dining room, not caring who could hear him. “Come and get your biohazard boyfriend and take him fucking home!”

The kitchen went completely silent. Matt blinked, clearly trying to unpack what he’d just heard, before wrenching to the side. “HHHITSZZHH-ue!”

Mark and Elijah burst into the kitchen then; tickets lined the board. Food lined the window. Matt was crouched down behind the line, and Greyson’s eyes were wild.

“Take him home,” Greyson said, making eye contact with Mark. “Or to urgent care. Or maybe straight to the cemetery. I don’t care where he goes, but he needs to get off my line.”

Mark nodded, and stepped behind the line to gather Matt, who slumped into his boyfriend’s arms. Greyson watched Mark hold Matt close, felt his chest contract when he heard his sous chef whisper, “Baby, I don’t feel good,” into his boyfriend’s chest.

“Go,” Greyson insisted. Mark helped Matt off the line, lead him into the office and pulled his hoodie over his chef’s coat, and walked him towards the back exit. Thank you, Mark mouthed to Greyson, who just nodded in response.

Once they were through the back doors, Elijah stepped forward. “Get back there and help them,” he said. “I’ll do expo. We’ll get through it.”

“We always do,” Greyson muttered, and pushed past his cooks to get to the middle of the line. “Alright: let’s land this fuckin’ bitch of a night in the harbor.”

***

The quiet calm of Matt’s apartment was in such direct opposition to the prior evening at work that Mark felt he might actually have whiplash.

The floor manager checked his phone for the tenth time since he’d woken up twenty minutes before. Elijah, via text, had filled him in about what happened after he and Matt left; it had been a shit show, but they’d gotten it done. There had been worse nights, Elijah said, though Mark couldn’t remember one. His boss let him know that he’d closed the restaurant for the day, to give everyone a well-deserved break. Thank God.

Greyson had texted both Mark and Matt apologizing for outing their relationship, and told Matt he could take as much time off as he needed – not that Matt had seen it yet. The sous chef had passed out the second his head hit the pillow the night previous, and he hadn’t stirred in over twelve hours.

Mark had responded to Greyson; it’s all good, Chef, though he wasn’t sure he really believed himself. He was glad that Greyson had told Mark to step up, to get Matt out and take care of him. But Matt… fuck, he was going to be upset when he woke up.

Speaking of which.

“Has anyone ever told you you text really loud?” Matt croaked quietly over Mark’s shoulder. Mark slammed his phone onto the bed and rolled over to face his boyfriend.

“No, I don’t think I’ve gotten that one before,” Mark said, caressing Matt’s face. Matt smiled, a little sadly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mmm. Like hot fuckigg garbage,” Matt whispered, closing his eyes. “Tired. Shitty. Fuckigg embarrassed.”

Mark pressed his lips together; he wasn’t sure what to say. He settled on: “Can I make you some tea?”

Matt huffed out a little laugh that turned into a nasty-sounding cough. “In a mbinute,” he said, “I just wandt to lay with you for now.”

So they did. A silence fell over the two of them – Mark stroking Matt’s hot face, Matt with his eyes closed. After a few minutes, Matt opened his red, rheumy eyes. “So, he kndows.”

Mark felt his heart sink. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess he does.”

Silence surrounded them again. “I guess I should’ve kndown,” Matt said.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said. Matt smiled a little.

“You were right,” he teased. “You’re always right.”

“I’m rarely right,” Mark corrected. “But I think we made it pretty obvious.”

“Mmm,” Matt hummed again. A beat went by where neither of them said anything, until Matt’s body took over. “HHRSSHH-uhhh!” he sneezed, exhausted, into his hand and wiped it on the comforter. Mark couldn’t help but laugh.

“Bless you,” he said. Matt smiled, eyes closed.

“You’re gonna get so sigck,” he muttered, on the edge of sleep again already.

“Yeah,” Mark said, pressing a soft kiss onto his boyfriend’s lips. “That sounds accurate.”

Matt opened his eyes, slowly. “You kndow I love you. Right?”

A firework lodged itself into Mark’s aorta, blew his heart right to bits. “Really?” he asked, the wrong answer, but his first reaction all the same. Matt laughed in earnest.

“Really,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“I love you, Matt. God, I love you,” Mark said, kissing Matt’s lips again. “I’m sorry about last night. I love you. Thank you. I love you.”

Matt opened one eye this time, touched Mark’s face, and closed it again. “Thangk you,” he murmured. “’M gonna go back to sleep ndow. If that’s cool with you.”

“Go to sleep, baby,” Mark said, his heart so full he was sure it would burst. “I love you.”

And even though Matt was already snoring by the time he had said it again, he couldn’t seem to stop muttering it in time with his boyfriend’s snores. I love you. I love you. I love you.

[chaifootsteps]

just me or is the whole 'saying this is like fanfic is homophobia' framing kind of frustrating? like just to list out the tropes that have come up so far in HH/HB:

female character is written as an evil shrew who gets in the way of the m/m pairing

relationship that starts with rape/dubcon rewritten into true love (this one is probably more common in bad BL manga but I'm willing to bet there's some overlap)

character is the child of a mob family

portrayals of rape/sexual assault treated as titillating / used for drama

portrayals of domestic violence/abuse used mainly to get viewers to feel sorry for a character instead of making them sympathetic on their own terms

abusers/rapists being all powerful monsters solely to torture the victim as much as possible

characters are either Good or Bad and writing is heavy handed about driving this point home

writers has one character they stan and baby above all others and not only the writing but the world bends around them as they eat up more and more screentime while the actual main characters are shoved to the side

writer has one character they hate and they hate other people liking them so they derail them in the most obvious way possible

writer has one pairing they despise and go out of their way to make them seem familial to shame the fans who ship it

writer has intended pairings in mind but they just kinda happen regardless of how much work has been put in to give them real chemistry

the plotlines jump all over the place with no consideration given to the differing stakes each create or audience fatigue when too much is introduced at once/too many hanging threads are left, similar to what happens in unplanned serialized fiction. consistency and worldbuilding errors abound. conversations/events that seem like they should change the status quo kinda don't but there's so little way to tell which one is which that audiences cannot gauge the stakes and either stop being invested or just take the show as it comes since there's no point anticipating anything being done with a lot of its characters & plot points

too many characters, often some of whom don't serve much purpose but the writer is way too attached to to ever cut out (looking at you, Andrealphus & Vassago)

characters are rewritten on the fly. due to the lack of planning their arcs start and stop or get quietly dropped when the writer tires of them

pervasive attitude of misogyny - female characters are underwritten, bitches, dumb or accessories to the men. The world revolves around the (usually white) m/m pairing/s

the main premise is dropped in favor of shipping drama or character shilling

etc.

There's probably more but those are the big ones - like s1 wasn't perfect but s2 really does feel like it became fanfic of itself. I understand Viv being frustrated if it seems like a broad dismissive brush instead of specific critiques, but there's a couple of problems here:

when people give specific critiques she either misrepresents their points to frame them as bad faith (tacitly encouraging her fans to do the same), complains people keep making the same point or writes defensive threads about how people just don't get it because, for example, the show totally demonstrates Millie has qualities other than Wife and Violent

when people say something 'feels like fanfic' as far as I've seen they aren't immediately using it as shorthand for 'it has LGBT characters'. usually when they expand on their points what they're getting at is a lack of planning and a lack of experience or competency in the writer that gives the whole thing impression of being done by an amateur who's either young or still learning their craft, or both

it's the same lack of experienced hands that resulted in the opening of Hazbin being so amateurish and lacking the sense of having actual episodes until other staff writers were brought in to clean up the mess

like yeah I don't like the implication that 'fanfic=automatically bad' since I've read some good stuff myself and maybe people could be more specific; but usually this critique is coming from people who actually like fanfic, who've read a lot of it and who recognize the tropes from the worst fanfics out there in Viv's work

Viv's little "Um, actually, fanfic is good and queer and so if you use it as an insult towards my shows, you're homophobic" snit is one of the more rancid things she's said. When you lay it all out like this, it really does go to show how her stories embody all the worst, most harmful tropes bad fanfic -- and bad writing in general -- has to offer.

[natsaffection]

I'm hiding behind the anonymous sign and begging you to make a part 2 of -Oh Baby-🤧

Oh, Baby | Part 2

MINORS DNI!!! (18+!)

warnings: heavy overstimulation, multiple orgasm, begging, choking, kinda mean nat?

Word count: 439 words

A/n: I'm sorry it's so short, but this topic makes me weak in the knees (okay I’m a slut for it, sorry not sorry) 💃

Part 1

I..I- N-Nat…,” you try to speak, the new sensations of heat cutting through your consciousness. Suddenly, you let out a scream of ecstasy so intense that even Natasha gasp and smile in response to. A sensation as if every orgasm in your life had been bundled in one and poured over your erupts from your body, through your sex, through your spine, through every inch of skin. Even as the scream subsides, your mouth hangs open, as if there is not enough air in your lungs to vocalize the pleasure ripping through you. Natasha feels your pussy tighten as if to push her out of you, but she stays inside.

Your eyes closed, mouth open still in tortured pleasure, Natasha continues to pummel your pussy while you twitches, your body trembling from head to toe. 

“O-okay…pl – oh, oh… plea – …please!” You finally manage to breathlessly murmur. “It’s… too much!”

Your entire body is on fire with oversensitivity, you would just want to curl up in a ball and not be touched or spoken to, to recover from such a monstrous climax, yet still you are being fucked like a sex toy. And Natasha is very enjoying it, “Until you say your safe word, I won't stop.”

“Fuck fuck fuck... 'm coming again!! Ahhh-hh!!Okayokayokay please stop...M-Mommy FUCK It's too- too much. Too much-"You were just mumbling now.

Another orgasm made you arch your back against Natasha while she held you in place. As much as you squeezed your thighs together, nothing could protect your hypersensitive pussy. You could do little other than scream and convulse.

Natasha groaned, and a hand suddenly wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides ever so slightly, just to hear you let out a beautiful gasp. “I'll make it clear for the last time, Malysh. If I catch you touching what's mine again, I won't stop so soon, do you understand that?” She asked, tilting her head to the side with a mocking smirk.

“Yesyesyes!” You moaned desperately at god knows what orgasm of the evening, not noticing that you had made a sticky mess all over Natasha’s arm.

“Then..One last time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” She says as she places your wet strands behind your ears

“No..n-no-” you mumbled incoherently, another orgasm flushing through your body without even a little build up, having Natasha fucks your last Orgasmus out of you

“I knew you were a good girl.”

[twola]

that last anon's request was Big Brain and i wanna jump off it to request the opposite scenario: F!reader is sick with some sort of illness, perhaps not terminal like TB but definitely debilitating for however long she has it. she still wants to be intimate with HH!Arthur and Arthur is just worried about nursing her back to health, but does miss her too, you know... could make for some cute NSFW comfort. if you do this request, ty!!! 🤭

Ah! Caring Arthur. What a nursemaid. I volunteer to be sick. Here’s a shorty for you!

I am still working on four more requests, so if you have one pending, fear not, I haven't forgotten about you!

In Sickness

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader  Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

In which the trip up to Ambarino does not quite go as planned.

The cold winds rolled down the mountain’s face, clouds so dark it seemed like the dusk had already fallen in the midafternoon, the snowbanks growing by the moment as the horses trudge on.

“C’mon - no use in going on - we gotta set up a tent,” Arthur yells over the wind, his face tucked into the tall collar of his coat. 

You nod, pulling the scarf wrapped around your head to cover the lower half of your face, holding on tightly to the reins of your horse, but it is getting harder by the minute to stay upright. You knew you should haven’t come with him when he asked to you to come up to Ambarino on a hunt: you had already not been feeling great.

Now even as you try to wrap yourself closer against the wind and snow, you burn underneath your layers, feeling weaker and weaker as time ticks by. Arthur brings his horse to a stop amongst a grove of snow covered pines, bearing a small refuge from the howling wind.

He slides off his saddle and immediately starts to unpack the tent in his saddle bags, positioning the tent just out of range of the weighed-down boughs of the trees. 

“C’n’ you start a fire?” He has to yell above the wind, and you nod, moving to climb down from the horse. A bout of lightheadedness hits you, and your coming down is far less graceful than usual.

Actually, you land on your back in the snow, moaning out in pain and exhaustion, and your horse, your young mare, whinnies, and rears in agitation.

Arthur looks up and curses, immediately leaping up and trudging quickly through the snow, up to his boots, to where you landed.

“Shit - Darlin’, took a tumble there.” He says as he stoops over you, leaning over to help you up.

That’s when he sees your flushed face, your labored breathing. “Hey, hey - sweetheart, you feelin’ alright?”

A weak moan is all you can muster.

Arthur looks around, mumbling to himself. He steps closer to you and immediately hoists you up with a strong arm behind your back and the other under your knees, and carries you toward the trees, placing you gently on the ground against one of the large trunks. He stoops down on one knee in front of you, his gloved hands cupping both cheeks as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

“I’m gonna get the tent up, then we’ll getcha nice and warm, alright there, darlin’?”

You nod, and he leans over and presses his warm lips to your forehead before standing back up and moving toward the tent, working quickly to get it pitched. He grabs the bedroll from his saddle, yours as well, laying them out beneath the canvas. You stumble up, trying to show that you’re not completely useless and wade through the snowbank toward him as he finishes up the tent.

“C’mere,” Arthur reaches for you and you nearly fall into his embrace, he pulls you into the tent, maneuvering your body with ease onto one of the bedrolls before crawling inside himself. He pulls down the canvas flap to keep out the cold, before pulling a blanket over you as he lays on his side next to you.

You want to cry. This was supposed to be an escape for the two of you - some hunting, maybe a lot of time spent in a tent… and now it's all wasted.

“M’ sorry I’m ruining our outing.” You sigh, eyes glassy looking up at him. 

“You ain’t ruining nothin’ there, sweetheart. If you haven’t noticed, it's stormy as hell outside. Even if you was right as rain, we’d probably still be doin’ the same thing just sittin’ in this tent.” Arthur shakes his head as he pats his bandana on your forehead, wiping away the sweat dotting from your clammy skin.

You frown, blinking away tears. “Not uh, we wouldn’t be wasting time away from camp when you’ve been gone for so long.” You add a piteous tone to the last words.

He snorts lightly, understanding your innuendo. “Darlin’, I don’t think you’re up to that now.”

You huff, your red-tinged cheeks betraying how right he actually is. “But I’ve missed you. So much, Arthur.”

“ ���nd I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

You pout your lips out slightly, knowing that the man had a hard time saying no to you.

“Arthur…”

“Darlin’.”

“Please?”

He sighs. He pulls his hat off, placing it on the ground next to him. “You know you’re a minx, little miss.” He wriggles off his blue fur-trimmed coat, placing it over your body atop the bedroll. He sheds his boots, leaving them beside the canvas flap tied shut to keep the wind out. The cowboy scoots - a funny sight, considering how large he is inside this little tent - completely next to you, placing his lips softly on your forehead before moving to the back of the tent, behind the bedroll.

Arthur moves to sit behind you, pulling you gently to recline on him between his legs. He presses another kiss against your temples, one of his hands moving slowly toward your lap. 

You let out a deep breath as he draws up the blanket covering your lower half, then pulls at your skirts so that they bunch up around your hips.

You give a weak moan as his rough knuckles brush against the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“I’m here, sweetheart, I’m here. Gonna make you feel so good.” He murmurs against your temple as his hand pushes your legs apart. 

He trails up, up, to the waistband of your bloomers, and slides his hand underneath the fabric as you gasp, his fingers trailing downward once more, through the thatch of hair over your cunt to the apex of your thighs as you close your eyes, your hands clenching against his knees on either side of you. 

He rubs, deliciously slow, at your folds, his pointer finger parting them and pressing gently at your weeping entrance before moving back upwards toward the little nub of nerves. You whine, leaning back against him with your head on his shoulder.

After several moments of gently circling that hooded skin, he kisses your forehead as he presses his hand back downward, and dips his pointer finger inside your entrance.

“Oh -” You stutter as your hips buck toward his touch, and he chuckles softly as he presses his finger in further, pressing against your wet, warm inner walls.

You whine, as he pulls his finger from you and pushes back in, a torturously slow rhythm as he works you open.

A gasp bursts from your throat as he adds a second finger, his middle one, thick and long, as he continues his ministrations. 

“There we go, I’ve got you, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

His thumb presses against that hooded skin above your entrance as his middle and pointer fingers crook within your cunt. Your spread legs shake as he slowly works you, as you pant and gasp, finally looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. Your mouth hangs open as your fingers clutch at the blanket.

“I-I’m gonna-” You choke out before he pushes his fingers all the way to the knuckle.

“Come for me, darlin’ girl.” He whispers roughly into your hair, and you do, oh, you do.

You mewl, high-pitched and needy, as you clench around his fingers, a small gush of your arousal dripping from your cunt, down his palm to his wrists.

He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead as he slowly retracts his fingers. He rights the disheveled waistband of your bloomers, pulling them back into place.

“What - what about you?” You breathe heavily, trying to stay awake.

“ ‘M fine, sweetheart.” He replies, pulling the hem of your skirt down and pulling the blanket up over your form as he adjusts you in his arms.

“But - ”

Arthur lays down atop the bedroll, pulling you over his chest, so that your head is pillowed softly on him. He winds his arms around you and kisses the top of your forehead.

“We can see in the morning, if you’re feelin’ better.”

[dsnzfb]

Counting Numbers

OC writings :)

Cactus/Rose, 1.2k words, M/M, cold snz.

It's much fun to have your boyfriend be so observant of you that he knows you're sick before you do.

"-hhaAAiish!!"

"...Ten!" A grin spread on Cactus' face, confusing his boyfriend.

From behind a tissue, Rose choked out a "Pardon?" 

"You've sneezed ten times today now."

"Thanks for counting, I... I think? You usually just say 'bless you'." A pointed sniffle, the taller man lowering the thoroughly used tissue from his irritated nose.

"This many in such a short time? Are you feelin' good, baby?”

Rose frowned, "...Sensitive. Sorry, this must be so gross, I- hhiiTshh!!"

"Eleven. I don't think it's gross, you can't exactly control it. Well, you're tryin', but..."

"Hhah- ahh- hhaaAAa-!! aaSshii!! Hhatshhiew!! Gghwaagh.." he whined pathetically, accepting another handful of tissues from his boyfriend.

"What's that, twelve, thirteen?"

"If it keeps on like this," the redhead blew his nose softly, "We'll find out how high you can count."

"Bully! But not wrong. This is more than regular sensitivity, you allergic to somethin' around here? Did I forget to dust? Or are you comin' down with a cold?" Cactus traced a thumb over his cheek slowly, intimately, "Either way, you know I'm gonna look the fuck after ya, right?"

"Language..." Another sniffle, despite his previous efforts, "Ugh... I should send you away so you don't catch this thing, if I have fallen ill..."

"But....?"

"But I... God, this is so selfish, but I want you to stay. Take care of me, give me cuddles..."

"Hah, that's a cold, all right. Tch, poor thing, you only get this clingy when you're sick. Mind if I check your temp?" Cactus didn't expect a fever, but Rose had surprised him before. All he needed was a gentle 'mmm' for permission, and he clicked his tongue.

"Startin' to get a little warm, but that might just be that my hands are cold. Whatever, gonna make you rest and take medicine anyway, should help with those body aches you get when you're feverish."

"How do you remember all this?"

"I try so I can help better next time. It's not creepy, is it?"

"No, it's swee--aahiigGSH! H-hhah- hahchii!! Hhashhii!! Aaeeshiiiu!! ...Wah."

 "Bless you, baby. See, I've lost count already. I'm just gonna say you're gonna sneeze like, a bajillion times today."

Wrapping his arms around himself and dropping the crumpled tissue, a shiver ran through Rose's body, a sad and tired expression on his face as he accepted that he was, in fact, quite unwell. Without saying a word, Cactus pulled his scarf off and easily wrapped it around his boyfriend's neck, smiling at Rose when he looked up in surprise.

"But that's-"

"Shhh, shh. Gotta keep you warm. That any better?"

"....Mm, it is rather nice..."  

"Need anythin' else? Is it prime time for you to obtain a 'boyfriend hoodie'?"

Rose laughed, hiding his lower face behind the familiar-smelling scarf. "You give that up, you'll never get it back. You're lucky I know how much this scarf means to you, so... Mercifully, I won't steal this."

"You want me to carry ya to bed?" Cactus continued, Rose rolling his eyes as a response.

"Cactus, I'm not an invalid. It's a little cold, the sofa is more than fi... Fi... Ffi-IIishh! Iihtsshi! Iishiie! Tsshiew-iishhIiew!! AahptshHh! Kktshhiiu!"

His eyes snapped open as he realised what he'd done.

".....Oh mby god." A nervous sniffle, "I'm so sorry."

"Whoa, bless you, bless! Jeez, you good? We hit a hundred yet?" 

A thick, warm hand caressed Rose's hair. Slowly, his eyes closed again, leaning into the touch. It felt so nice against his aching head.

Wait, no, wait, stop distracting him.

"C-Cac, I sneezed on your scarf, how are you not mad? Are you mad? I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to, my nose just tickles s-so bad right now, even just mentioning it-"

"Bless you."

"Aag-hh- I- I haven't even- s-sneezed again yet...." Rose's nose scrunched up, nostrils twitching in irritation.

"Listen, Rose... I seriously don't mind. It can be washed. You need the warmth, and it was there. I'm not gonna be mad about you getting sick, I knew what I was signing up for when I put it on ya. You can let 'em out."

"G-ggh- no, it's... Don't wanna do it again... Bad enough I... I... Hhih-... Did it before..."

Cactus blinked at him, nonplussed. 

"You serious? It's already done, just let 'em out. Hey, better yet, get that tickle out with a biiiiiig sneeze. Big breath in, that's it. Think of dust. Think of, uh... A cute, fluffy dog."

This man was going to kill him. He couldn't. That's Cactus's scarf. He wears it every single day, no matter how hot it is. And here Rose was, sneezing into it and dirtying it! The disrespect of it all!

"I... C-cah-... Can't..."

"Yeah, ya can. Come on, imagine somethin' real tickly. Ooh, one of those stereotypical feather dusters! You know the ones, that come with the french maid outfi-"

"Caaaaac, s-stop, I.... I need... T-to..." Rose's chest shuddered with hitches, eyebrows tugging higher and higher, "Need... Need... Hhi-iih-!! Iihh...."

Stray fibres from the scarf itself weren't helping matters, yet he wasn't pulling it down, or taking it off. It brought a smile to Cactus's face, and it made him want to tease the florist relentlessly.

"Come on, I know you wanna. I know you gotta. It's really no problem, you can sneeze against me if you want."

"A-a-absolutely not! You- I... It's... Nng-ggh... Gghk-TSsh-! Iighshh! Ttsh! Ii-iih-iihTSHii!! Iktshiew! I-i-iisSHhiew! A-ah... Ahh'ttshHIIi!! G'ttSHHEw!! Aauaagh, oh, god..." 

Cactus blinked at him, "Whoa, bless you! Damn, that was a lot, are you do-"

"GghTSSH! HHht-tsshiew-iishHhew!! IitshHHEee!! Ii-h... Hht'shShew! P'tshiu!!" Rose interrupted him, the held-back fit tumbling out.

"Guess that answers that question. Jeez, bless you a kajillion times." The barista grabbed a handful of tissues, offering them up to his incapacitated boyfriend. They were taken gratefully, Rose motioning for Cactus to turn around with a single finger.

“Really?”

“Dod’t look at be. I’b a bess…”

He obeyed with a chuckle. He's seen Rose in much worse states, yet he was embarrassed by this. So cute. Cactus couldn't help a wide grin on his face as he heard Rose blowing his nose and groaning in upset, likely at the ‘mess’ he made of the scarf.

Snf!

“Cactus, I have to wash this before I return it to you. I'm not having you catch this because you wanted to do something nice for me.” There was a rustling sound that accompanied this, which Cactus surmised as Rose attempting to clean the scarf off at least a little. He snuck a glance, and smirked at his suspicions being confirmed.

“I mean, you will return it, but keep it as long as you need.”

“Caaac…”

“Look, you put it on, I'll get you some medicine, some tea, then we can snuggle and watch that show you like. Whassit. ‘Dick’s Deals’? It'll be like you never left England.”

Whether Cactus got it wrong on purpose or not, Rose almost choked with laughter regardless. “P-Pffft- do you mean ‘Dickinson’s Real Deal'? It's just bad daytime TV, you don't have to do that.”

“Ah, but there ain't nothin’ better when you're feeling like shit, right?” He stroked Rose's hair, smoothing it out after his intense sneezing fits left it disheveled, “You've done the same for me.”

“....Mmm. Don't be long, then. I want you here.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.” 

[ilmietitore]

"Ciao, 'M here to visit 'm business partner, he lives in the 03 on the first floor."

Welcome to my ask blog for mah boy, Matteo Schiavoni, I'm your host, H :3c

Here be some ground rules:

All asks will be drawn out!!!

Schia and I are a-okay with anything pertaining to violence & gore, suggstive stuff is cool, but keep Tumblr's policies in mind when asking! No penises, sorry :(

On that topic, I'm comfortable with depicting most things, just nothing involving the bodily harm of children.

Please don't spam.

Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and anything of the sorts is not tolerated, your butt will be blocked.

Dm's are 1-800-Closed

Some factoids about Schia:

He's 47 and 6'4"

Goes by Matteo or Schia

He/Him, Cisgender, and Unlabled

He's very blunt, charismatic, and sadistic

He's Italian and bilingual in English and Italian

Fronts as a "businessman", but works as a hitman for the Mafia

He and Angus Ciprianni are business partners and partners in crime (and in toxic yaoi lol)

His text will be yellow

And some factoids for yours truly:

Name's H

21 and 2 nickels tall

Main blog is @double--hh

I use All/Any pronouns

Timezone is EST

I have a full-time job, please be patient with the response times </3

My text will be green

So yeah, have fun pookies <3

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Wolff/Sekemoto

Yumi's Peace & Sam's Gift (long intense Part)

Morgana noticed that Yumi had a different gait. And she asked herself why she hadn't noticed it before. The old woman must be in a lot of pain; there were typical signs of someone suffering from back problems. But now she didn't want to stop her.

The last time, Yumi found the path quite difficult. But she ignored the pain and agony her body was going through. The cemetery is on a hill, so Morgana had to support her a little so that the old woman could get up the hill. The walk was less strenuous for Sam. But he was silent the whole time.

When the three of them arrived at the cemetery, they again noticed the unusual coldness that had already set in when they left. “Leighton… Leighton, where are you?” Yumi shouted nervously as she walked to the back She remembered where his grave was and headed straight for it.

Shortly before the gravesite, she suddenly stopped. Leighton materialized in front of her in his ghostly form. Not only was Yumi almost shocked by this, Morgana also stood paralyzed in her place. she had never seen a ghost before. “Oh God, Leighton…"/ ‘M-my boy…’. Yumi immediately burst into tears and ran towards him. Sam, on the other hand, was still a little reserved.

Yumi could hardly contain her emotions. She cried while her son held her in his arms. “Mother….” She cried so hard that she could barely speak. “I… I always knew you weren't completely gone, oh Leighton, my son. “/ “Mother…I'm here now, you…calm down, please”. He then looked into Morgana's face for a moment. “Thank you for bringing her here and…congratulations on your baby”.

“Morgana looked at him questioningly. “How do you know…"/ ‘hn, in the afterlife we learn more things than you can imagine…’/ ‘And you're… Here, that's incredible…’/ ‘I know…’/ ‘Dad…’. Sam looked at his father. But he wasn't afraid. Rather a strong need. “Sam… Sam, my boy, come here.” Leighton gently let his mother slip out of his embrace for a moment.

For Sam, a knot had been untied at that moment. He went to his father and hugged him as tightly as he could. “Dad…” he said in a tearful voice. Leighton couldn't hide his feelings either. “Sam, my dear boy. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. Please forgive me"/ ‘mhm…’/ ‘you have a wonderful son, Leighton, h-hh,’ Yumi sobbed.

“Yes, I know. You're so incredibly brave, you know that? You knew exactly that I would come today, didn't you?"/ ”mhm. “/"Listen, Sam, I know this is a new feeling for you. And I'm sure you'll experience it a few more times… We've had someone like you in our family before, but that was a long time ago. “/“What do you mean, Leighton?” Morgana asked curiously.

“Sam can sense when someone around him is about to die… It's like a premonition, but you don't know exactly when and how it will happen. As I said, a few years ago…”. But he couldn't continue. Yumi suddenly became weaker and weaker and lost her balance. “Mother!”. He stood up quickly and caught her in his arms.

“My God, Yumi…”. He held his mother gently in his arms as her body grew heavier and heavier. She didn't say anything more, and you could see her eyes slowly closing. “h-hh, Yumi…"/ ”It's okay. That's what she came here for. And that's why I was sent here"/ ‘What do you mean?’/ ”She wanted to see me one last time before she left. That has now come true…"/ ‘h-hh, oh no’. It wasn't just Morgana who started to cry, Sam couldn't hold back any longer either.

Leighton held his mother in his arms until she had taken her last breath. “I'm sure you'll feel like you're all alone for a while now, my boy. But you have people around you who love you just as much as I and your grandmother do. Do you hear me?"/ ”mhm. But… Can't you stay here?"/ ”I'm afraid I'm not in a position to grant you that wish, Sam. And it would also be against nature…”.

Morgana had to think about his words. And about how unfairly the universe had treated this family. But they weren't the only ones here who had to leave their loved ones alone “Yumi was old and sick, but you…”. Leighton shook his head. “You'd better stop thinking, Morgana. There's nothing that can bring me back. You're responsible for Sam now. And you're better than his mother ever was.”

Morgana was touched by his words. And apparently he was right. For Sam, she was already something like his mother. She looked after him lovingly, even though she had a lot to do with her own child. “I wish there was a way. You don't deserve to die, Leighton"/ ”like I said, don't start thinking anymore. There may be miracles, but not like this. And as for his gift… Mother has a book in her closet. Our family chronicle. Give it to him, then he'll be able to understand some things better.”

Leighton stood up slowly with his lifeless mother in his arms. “What are you going to do now?"/ ”Well, what would you do if your husband was in this situation. You don't have to worry about anything except a headstone. I'm going to take her"/ ‘Take her?’/ ‘Dad's taking her to the spirit world,’ Sam said in a calm voice. ‘But…’/ ”Believe me, Morgana. There's no need to examine her. Like you said, she was old and sick. Now she doesn't have to suffer any more”.

. “There aren't many miracles, but I can show you one right now…”. Morgana and Sam said nothing, but their gazes were expectant. Then a green vibrant cloud appeared around Leighton and his mother. Then Yumi's body slowly dissolved in her son's arms, turning into a transparent ghostly figure like he already was. “This saves us the horrible decomposition process"/ ‘I… I see, wow’.

Before Leighton disappeared into the green haze with his mother, he looked at his son again. “Read the book, my son. And one day you'll understand what you're capable of. Then it will get easier with time. You just have to believe in it."/ ‘Leighton…’/ ”huh? “/ “It was… nice to see you again”/ “Hn, maybe they'll let me out again sometime. Farewell, no…Take care,”. . After a few seconds, the green cloud dissipated with Leighton and Yumi in it.

After the two had disappeared before their eyes, it was literally dead quiet. You couldn't even hear the wind blowing through the bare trees. But then Morgana heard the heart-rending sobs of Sam. “Oh Sam… my little one"/ ‘h-h, now… Now they're both gone’.

“I know. And I know that it hurts very in here.” She stroked his chest with her hand. ”I loved your grandma very much too. But you know… I'm sure she's better now, where she is.” The little boy pulled the snot back up his nose. “Yes, she… She's not in pain anymore."/ ”No, and she'll never be in pain again. Your dad will take care of her….And don't forget… They're both always with you"/. It took quite a while for the little boy's sobs to slowly subside.

After Sam had calmed down a little, Morgana asked him if he would like to stay a little longer. It wouldn't have been a problem for her if he wanted to spend some more time here. But he shook his head and said he would like to go home. To save him the long walk home, she took him in her arms and carried him as gently as a mother monkey carries her young. Then he said something else that stayed with her the whole way home. “I will never cry again!”.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

@greenplumbboblover 😥

Author's note: This is not the first time I had to let a Sim die for a story. Strangely enough, it didn't affect me as much as the first time. But I was still terribly sad that I had to let her go. But what wouldn't you do for a story... when the Grim Reaper came, she left with a smile on her face, which calmed me down😊👻🧚‍♀️

Poses by: @poses-by-bee , @ellechosim , mrs oogie boogie, @eunsims , @spladoum & others.

[imthetunnelunderoceanblvd]

can you do a noncon threesome with Lyle, Quaritch, and a human!fem!reader where she begs them not to cum inside her but no. they have to fill her up with their cum. a lot of teasing and praise/degradation too?? ty!! I love ur writing

milk without the honey.

ִֶָ 𖥔ﾟ— synposis : getting cornered in a dark room was something you didnt wish for; you wonder why it happened to you, you wonder why they chose to do that to you, questions swam in your head as you struggled and screamed and wriggled around trying to get them off of you, one of them put his hand on your mouth in order to muffle your screams.

ִִֶֶָ 𖥔ﾟ— warnings : cnc, degrading, p in v, double penetration, oral (fem rec.), praising, threesome (m/m/f), no plot, no mentions of y/n, no proof reading.

ִִֶ 𖥔ﾟ— pairing : lyle x reader x quaritch

ִֶָ 𖥔ﾟ— a/n : CNC??? I HAD TO WRITE IT. also im so sorry i didnt reply faster.. ive been busy with life sm happened and i forgot everything about my requests and my drafts imma try to finish as much as i can today. tysm for requesting !! <3. also !!! comments are highly appreciated unless theyre bad ones... keep em for urself >< !! have fun reading! i hope you enjoy ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"you like that? you like being touched by us? hmm? tell me, baby, do you like the way we touch you?" lyle said from behind you, his cock thrusting inside your walls, his breath hot on your neck as he held you close to him to keep you balanced with his fingers in your mouth muffling your screams.

"she sure does…" quaritch said from between your legs, breathing on your cunt the lifting his hand to collect your wetness.

"look how wet she is, just like a little whore;" lyle smirked.

"that right princess? youre a whore for us, yeah?"

you had tears running down your face;

you were trying to fight back at first, tried to scream, cried for someone to help you but you were in an isolated room, you knew it was impossible for anyone to hear you but you tried, now you gave up, you let them use you however they want, became their experimental game.

your face twitched as your felt your orgasm approaching, quaritch felt your pussy throbbing as he lapped at your clit, without a warning, he slipped a finger inside of your vagina, his finger deep down to the knuckle inside of you, the act was excruciating for you but you liked it and you let out a soft muffled moan.

quaritch pulled away right before you climaxed. "get ready, imma gonna put my cock inside your tiny cunt, you g'na like it,"

you were too tired to argue back and just sat there waiting as lyles fingers left your mouth to play with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers as he sucked on the flesh of your neck.

"you gonna let everybody know that i fucked you? gonna let em know you belong to daddy? hm?" lyle talked to you while quaritch slammed his cock inside of you and you moaned loudly.

you had quaritchs and lyles cocks inside of you, both cocks rubbing on each other making them twitch inside of you, quaritchs hand went to your neck, choking you til your eyes widened and your lips went blue in color.

"p – plea – hh – se.. plea–!

s–top"

quaritch was amused by your beggings and after a few seconds of holding you there, he withdrew his hand from your neck.

lyle was groaning like a wild animal and quaritch gave him a knowing look. "gonna let us cum inside your tiny cunt?" quaritch said and your eyes widened as you shook your head 'no'.

"no – please s – stop – no.. please

pleasepleasepleaseplease.. dont please.." you had started crying and quaritch just smirked while lyle was lost in the feeling of your cunt tightening around both cocks.

"gonna pump my seed right inside of you, baby," quaritch said with a groan.

"wanna have our kids inside of ya?"

"she sure — she sure does!"

you closed your eyes and cried. "please no please stop please stop please stop.." you started rambling as your thighs started to shake and your muscles spasm and just like that you release on quaritchs pubic region.

"what a good bitch… coating me with your pretty fluids,"

"ha.. see colonel, told ya she a catch,"

both men smirked as they twitched inside your body.. once… twice…

they released inside of you, one after the other, and you were left alone in that room, laying down on the floor feeling useless and disgusting.

you were disgusted with yourself. disgusted with the idea of you enjoying it. and that was true, you were disgusting because you liked every bit of it, so laying down with your legs shaking, with spit and cum drying on your pussy, you reached down to touch yourself.

[drawlody]

Ya know i went and rewatch his death scene for like animatic ref and holy it hurt so bad. Not from him dying.No.The fucking slander from the comment section is like holyyyyyyyy

HAHAHAAHHAAAA I spent so much time in my safe space among the Adam agenda that i forgot that like 80% of the fandom think he's a misogynistic abuser that deserved all that happen as if those cunts they call baby is better

HH fandom is truly an experience i dont think ive ever purposefully seperate myself from most of the fandom cause o m g having your fav depict as a fucking cuckhold rapist aint fun (o゜▽゜)o☆

And even when us Adam agendas stay in our lane others cant just leave us alone huh?!?! Fucking hell we dont go on Lucifer-centric fic to call him a cunt that deserve to get sucker punch across the face so why the hell are yall doing that to us??? Fuck my friends on ao3 constantly got hate on their fic like broski the tags and first chap should tell u enough the authors stand and you should idk leave???

sighhhh sorry if i sound angry but it do get annoying seeing people not having fandom manners smh (ノへ￣、) eh u can pick on a dog for so long before they bite back as my friend said. Ya'll are free to make Adam the worst person ever to hype up your favs but once we start to do the same suddenly it's unacceptable and honestly get tiring after a few months, repeating the same points to people who are unwilling to listen