#ironically I sneezed while writing this

[fluffyllamas-23]

Can I request some super sick Steve with a bad cold/sinus infection and Bucky being all cute and protective? Canon or AU! Thank you :))

Okay so I somehow missed the part of your ask where you requested that Bucky be cute and protective. I think I got the cute thing, but not sure about the protective thing. I hope you like it anyways! I'm on a real Stucky kick and this was so fun to write.

(Modern AU Stucky with post-serum Steve bod bc I can lol)

“Which pumpkin do you want?” Bucky asks, hands on his hips as he stares down at the pumpkins in the pumpkin patch they’re visiting.. 

Steve shrugs, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself as he shivers. “I’m good with whatever. Hey, can we stop for hot chocolate or tea or something on our way home? I’m freezing.”

“God that sounds incredible. Absolutely.”

Steve sniffles, rubbing at his nose. He reaches down to pick up one of the pumpkins near his feet. “hhh’ISCHih! Snff! Sorry. This is a good one.”

“Bless you. That is a good one,” Bucky agrees, looking at the large, round, bright orange pumpkin that Steve has in his hands. Steve adjusts the pumpkin, holding it like one might hold a baby on their hip.

When Bucky just stares down at the other pumpkins without making any move to pick one, Steve quirks a brow at him, “so…are you going to make a decision for yours, or are we going to be out here all night?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “it’s a very important decision.”

“Clearly.”

“Can’t pick the wrong one.”

A tickle blooms in his sinuses, and he rubs at his nose again, trying to ward off the impending sneeze. “Oh god no. Can’t have that. World War III might start if you pick the wrong pumpkin.”

“So you see my dilemma.”

Steve turns away from Bucky, “Ih’tschiew! Nng’tsch! Snff! Excuse me.”

“Bless you, sweetheart. Okay, I think I found one.” He says, walking a few feet to pick up one of the pumpkins he’s had his eye on since they got there. 

“Well thank god for that,” Steve chuckles. “I was starting to worry we’d die here before you ever made up your mind.”

“I’d probably have gotten us out before we died,” Bucky says. Steve is still fussing with his nose when Bucky looks up at him. He looks deeply bothered. Bucky’s eyes soften, “hey…you okay?”

Steve nods, trying not to wince when he swallows past the sudden sharp, raw feeling in his throat. “Cold and windy out. That always bothers my nose.”

“Let’s get you warm, then. Still want to stop for tea or whatever?” 

His breath hitches again, and he muffles a volley of sneezes into the crook of his arm.  He nods, sniffling and trying once again to get rid of the itch that just does not want to leave his sinuses. 

He scrunches his nose. “Y-yeah that s-hih…hih’TSCH! Tsch! Ihhh…hih’tSCH! Snff! That sounds ndice-hhh’ISCHih! h’sschUH! SnffSnff!...Snff! Oh mby god, sorry. Do we have andy tissues in the car?” Congestion seeping into his voice, blurring all of his consonants together. 

“I’m not sure…are you feeling okay, Stevie?” Bucky says cautiously. 

Steve grimaces, “I think I might be getting a cold.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky frowns, nudging him with his shoulder as they walk to pay for their pumpkins. 

“It’s ndot a big deal,” Steve sniffles. “I’mb finde. I really dond’t feel that bad.”

“Okay…you promise?” Bucky says, and they both set their pumpkins down to be weighed. He hands the man behind the till his credit card and looks over at Steve.

Steve holds up three fingers, “scout’s hondor.”

“You sound like shit.”

“Gee, thagks. I’mb finde. I swear. It’s just a cold. I’ll take sombe mbeds whend we get hombe and ndap.”

Bucky decides to drop it, but he suspects that Steve is bullshitting him.  The fact that he’s volunteering to take medication and have a nap instead of needing Bucky to sweet talk him into it is suspicious as hell. This never happens unless Steve feels downright awful. 

But he isn’t going to get anywhere by forcing the issue if Steve isn’t ready to admit he feels awful. 

So Bucky pretends he believes Steve.

*

“I’mb finde,” Steve says sharply as Bucky casts him what feels like the umpteenth concerned glance that car ride. “Stop looki’gg at mbe like that.”

He’s spent the majority of their drive to the coffee shop, and now on their way home, sneezing and coughing and sniffling. He’s sounding worse and worse, and Bucky can’t help the fact that he’s worried. 

He’d been fine this morning, albeit a bit tired-looking and sounding, but nowhere near this level. It just kind of seems like it hit him out of nowhere with zero warning.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” He says nonchalantly, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye as he pulls onto their street. 

“Y-yes you-hihhh…oh for the love of god-hih’TSCH! Tsch! Ihhh…hih’tSCH! Snff! hhh’ISCHih! h’sschUH! Snff!” He sighs in frustration as Bucky pulls into the driveway.

“Bless-”

“-Dond’t say it,” Steve grumbles, rubbing his forehead. All of the sneezing has given him the worst headache. It’s throbbing and pounding behind his eyes and in his forehead, and he doesn’t care for it one bit.

“Stevie, come on,” Bucky says softly, putting a hand on his thigh.  It’s like the touch melts him completely, and he suddenly deflates, sniffling pitifully. “It’s me. You don’t have to hide how you feel with me.”

Steve sighs in defeat. He’s right. There’s really no point in denying it any longer. He knows Bucky isn’t buying it.

He sure wouldn’t.

“I dond’t feel great, Buck.”

“I know,” Bucky says gently, giving Steve such a soft look, he could cry.  “Come on, let’s get you inside. You can change and pick out something to watch and I’ll grab you some meds. Sound good?

Steve coughs into the crook of his elbow, “yeah that sou’ds great.”

*

“Okay, I really think we need to get you to a doctor,” Bucky frowns, looking down at the thermometer. “That, or this thermometer is broken.” 

He had thought Steve felt warm while they were cuddling, but he wasn’t expecting the number it beeped in at. 

“What’s it at?”

“102.4.”

“....Oh,” Steve mumbles, taking stock of how he feels. He grimaces when the conclusion he comes to is really bad. “Ndo, I thiggk that’s right.”

He’s been sick going on five days now, and it doesn’t seem like he’s getting any better. He’s getting worse, in fact. He’s been so congested and sniffly and sneezy that he was having a hard time getting any sleep. All meds did was take the edge off, but not enough to let him get more than a couple of hours at a time before he was awake again. 

He’s exhausted and achy, and Bucky hates how listless he’s been.

“How are you feeling? What’s bothering you?”

“Awful. Everythi’gg. Mby face hurts,” Steve groans, eyes closing. He feels so congested that his eyes feel swollen.

Bucky winces, “I think you might have a sinus infection, Stevie.”

Steve feels his face gingerly before inhaling sharply and dropping his hands. “Ow.”

“God, yeah, this definitely sounds like a sinus infection.” Bucky groans, “let’s go to urgent care…get you some antibiotics, maybe some steroids…and stronger pain meds.”

“Cand we go later? I’mb tired.”

“Sweetheart, the sooner we go, the quicker you’ll feel better,” Bucky says, stroking Steve’s cheek. “I know you don’t feel well and going to urgent care is the last thing you want to do, but you need medical attention.”

It takes some more convincing, but eventually, Steve relents. 

Or, rather, Steve allows himself to be bribed with a milkshake (and as much soup and as many snuggles as he could possibly want). All this in exchange for being a good patient (and not a pain in the ass, which were stipulations Bucky may or may not have added to their agreement), and going to the doctor. 

*

Finally, after what feels like forty eight hours, they’re finally home from urgent care. Bucky claims it was only three hours, but Steve thinks he’s probably lying to spare his feelings. 

He’s not sure why Bucky would need to spare his feelings, but there’s also no way that only took three hours. 

They’ve been to the pharmacy already and have picked up his antibiotics and steroids, as well as the milkshake Steve was promised. 

“Okay,” Bucky says, shutting the door behind them. “I’m going to put these away, you go get comfy in bed and I’ll bring you your meds and some tea and then we can cuddle while you nap.”

“That’s a great pland,” Steve sniffles. 

“I thought you might like that,” Bucky smiles, stroking Steve’s cheek. “Let’s get you feeling better, yeah?”

They go up the stairs into their bedroom, and settle in for another quiet few days until Steve is finally feeling better. 

They also finally carve those pumpkins.

[rosemary-writes]

How he holds you

(Lost boys x gender neutral reader headcanons)

Warnings: Marko being a lil cheeky

Authors note: heeeyy chickens, long time no see♡I transferred to university and I have little to no time to write stuff like this anymore. Buut since it’s October, I gotta do my fav boys

David

-David doesn’t really hold you per say. You more or less cling and hold on to him.

-He doesn’t like seeming too vulnerable or soft when in public. Especially while on the boardwalk and the surf nazis are out and about

-However, if you’re standing next to him, he will casually put his hand on the back of yours. Theres something about his palm resting on your hand that just makes him feel content

-When you two are in the cave and hes sitting in his chair or on the couch, he always beckons you to sit on his lap. While you’re on his lap, he’ll snake his arm around your back and rest his hand on your thigh or butt.

-While he says its to “keep hold of what's his” it’s also so your back isnt digging into the metal of his wheelchair.

-It’s old and rusty and he doesnt really want you to be squirming cause it’s hurting your skin

-Some nights when the two of you are alone or you had a bad day, he lets you lay on his chest while he lays down on the couch.

-Your hands fall to his chest and his arms will wrap around you to keep you pressed comfortably against him.

-Even though his heart no longer beats, you swear you sometimes hear faint thumps when you mumble how much you love him into his chest

-Overall 6/10 cause he only holds you back every few weeks.

Dwayne

-Dwayne isn’t afraid to wrap an arm around your waist or hips while in public. It’s his way of showing people that you’re his partner and to keep you close to him

-He’ll sometimes put his fingers through your belt loops

-When meeting up in public, he’ll loosely wrap his arms around your hips while giving you a kiss. When meeting you in private, like at your house, he will actually give you a decent hug

-I like to think that Dwayne will link pinkies with you while walking around the boardwalk sometimes. He thinks it’s really sweet.

-When you two are in the cave, he’ll come up behind you and snake his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. His stubble tends to tickle your neck a bit

-he might take in a big inhale of your scent

-When you two cuddle, hes pulling you so close to him that you’re practically smothering him

-He loves it

-His hands will move all over the place. Your back, hips, thighs, butt, maybe one in your hair

-If you fall asleep, hes on cloud 9. He’ll most likely move you both into a small nest spot in the cave and either fall asleep with you or stay awake to watch you sleep. If you guys are at your place, he watches over you while you sleep.

-10/10 cause his cuddles are top notch

Paul

-Paul can’t keep his hands to himself so hes holding you all the damn time.

-Had a bad day? Let him hold you, he wants to make you feel better

-Theres a puddle on the ground? He’ll carry you over it

-Yikes babe, your shoe is untied, guess he’s gotta hold you so you don’t trip

-Yeah, hes very touchy

-Out on the boardwalk he loves to hold your hands. Like, he hates having to let go of your hand if you have to do something.

-Heaven forbid you want to eat or need to sneeze

-On the occasions where he takes you flying with him, he keeps you so close to him. He would never drop you but theres been a few times where you slipped from his grasp and it spooked you. So, he’ll have an iron grip on you while flying over the ocean or Santa Carla

-If you’re ever with him when he’s having a smoke sesh, he goes to maximum handsyness. God help you if you need to pee

-Like Dwayne, his hands are going everywhere, but hes gripping you as if you’re going to float away.

-He loves keeping you close because you’re so warm against his cold body. His cold hands will slip under your shirt and move around. He’s not trying to tickle you, he just loves how warm your back is.

-9.5/10 because his hands are cold as hell

Marko

-Marko’s not as handsy as the others

-Once in a blue moon, Marko lets you wrap your arms around him and he will envelop you in his jacket. It’s warm and it’s a really rare soft moment with him. It only happens when you forget a jacket and you’re both on the boardwalk and it’s freezing. Surprisingly, hes warm because of how thick his jacket is

-However, he mostly keeps a hand in your back pocket or he’ll pinch your butt. If hes showing you something, he takes your hand to lead you.

-Thats about as far as it goes in public.

-However, in private, it is a totally different scene

-He likes to hold you from behind. He sneaks up and wraps his arms around you while shoving his face into your hair

-He’ll only do this when no one is around. He does not want the others to see him like this.

-He does like to cuddle with you. He’s the big spoon and youre always the little spoon

-The feeling of your body expanding while breathing tends to calm him down since he easily gets wound up.

-While spooning you, he’ll lean forward just a bit to kiss you on the cheek. He will also sometimes entwine your hands and kiss the back of your hand.

-He warms up underneath the covers with you.

-Moments like that remind him that it’s okay to be relaxed with others

-I give him a 7/10

[suhkusa]

It’s on the last day of your break you realize.

It was truly an ordinary day, in fact, it was like every other day you two had spent together beforehand. 

It was there, as you lay on the opposite end of the couch from Osamu, that you would lay your heart out for him.

You could hear the TV playing in the background, along with the sound of the game that Osamu played on his phone. But even so, you felt hyper aware of him.

All the little habits that you had grown used to and simply brushed off growing up beside him, were finally beginning to come to the light. The way his pinkies had little indents from holding his phone a specific way for so long. The way his eye would twitch right before he sneezed. The way he would blow at the hair that rested on his forehead.

And right now, you could feel it more than ever. You like Osamu Miya.

There was a point in time where you thought a future with him was simply impossible. And while there were many things that obstructed that future, it finally felt like it was clear and you were certain.

A part of you thinks that almost losing him made you realize that he meant more to you than you thought. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever.

“‘Samu,” there’s a look in your eyes that causes his own eyes to widen. Like he knows what you’re about to say.

“Yes?” he’s sitting up a bit, and it causes your nerves to go haywire.

“I like you, and,” there’s a pause. You know what you want to say but you’re nervous. Which is ironic, considering you’ve never been more sure of your feelings.

“I want to try. With you, I mean,” he smiles, and you swear it’s the biggest you’ve seen.

Osamu leans over to your side, and grabs your hands. “We can take it slow, if that’s what ya want?”

You can feel the heat run straight to the tips of your ears. You can’t speak so you nod in its place.

You can’t speak, and you find that it seems like he can’t either. So you don’t. 

Instead, a hand comes up to cup your cheek. His hands are soft, like they’ve always been.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning in until you notice his closeness. Not until you finally register that he’s kissing you. It’s different. It feels real and it feels like home. 

Home.

That’s what Osamu Miya was to you. And although it took too long to finally find it, you were here.

Home sweet home.

BOTH AIN’T SH!T ( OSAMU VER.) — HOME SWEET HOME

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTES.

osamu never let go of y/n’s hand while driving (he almost crashed)

suna slept on the couch bcs y/n and osamu were too “lovey dovey”

atsumu was vulnerable at the time he got with remi BUT his feelings for her are real and getting stronger everyday

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[oddaesthetin]

sunny days — yoon jeonghan

————

“aigoo. you really have got to get out of here.”

awoken from the sound, you grunted as you tried to find where the voice was coming from. just near the bedroom door stands your hannie, with both arms resting at both sides of his hips. you whined and closed your eyes as you felt your energy depleting again.

it was monday, and you really have no plans whatsoever to spend the day. after two weeks of being completely eaten out by a very important presentation at work, your two days off were the only ones you had long anticipated. and it’s not that you didn’t miss spending time with your boyfriend, but he’s mostly been here with you on the two weeks you were killing yourself over work, so you’re pretty sure he’s aware of what you’ve been through.

“no, like seriously, when was the last time you actually went out and just basked in the sun?” footsteps nearing your bed, you raised your head again and looked at him with sleepy eyes.

“don’t know and don’t care, hannie. i’m so tired,” you said in a groggy voice, hoping he’d feel even just a little bit of pity and not make you go out. “besides, since when were you the one to be excited to ‘go out and bask in the sun’? last time i checked, you’re the type to hibernate longer than a dormouse.”

fast forward to 40 minutes later, you found yourself getting dragged by jeonghan outside your apartment complex. something about how you needed the sun’s vitamin D for your bones (because you spent the past weeks sitting and grouching on your work desk) was what made him win the argument. where to, still unknown. but since he’s the one who asked you out, you’re pretty confident he’s prepared for this.

-

“lovie, don’t you feel much better?”

as much as you wanted to disagree, fortunately, unfortunately, he’s right. after a few quick trips to several cafés on a bread and pastry hunt, you spent the remaining time before sunset walking along the pathways of a small trail near the mountains. indeed, you needed the sun so badly that you started running excitedly as soon as you saw the familiar trail. to give more context, this was the trail you and jeonghan often frequented when you just started dating. you remember considering this place as a hideaway when you were still not used to adjusting to each other’s schedules. 2 years later and everything remains the same— from the fresh smell of the leaves from the pine trees brought by the cold winds to the glowing scarlet orange sky. anyone who would come here, stressed or not, would be delighted in a minute.

“yes,” you answered shortly. childishly plucking off some of the dandelions disseminated along the field, then sneezing right after you idiotically attempted to smell them. jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh at the behavior. you’re just like a cat.

“someday, i’ll build a house on a place like this. sooo refreshing.”

“wow, really saying that while rubbing your nose off your face? couldn’t be more ironic, love.”

sighing, jeonghan went to your side to gently slap your hands away from your face. he pulled out a handkerchief in his pocket and started using that in an attempt to remove any remaining pollen in your hands. despite your complaining about treating you like a child, he won the argument for the second time on this day.

“ooh, but i do get you, tho. remember that piano scene from crash landing on you? wasn’t that in switzerland? the place looks so chilly and vibrant. maybe we could buy a house there in the future.”

feeling lighthearted, you made a joke, “what, like, you proposin’ to me or somethin’?” while annoyingly raising your brow up and down at him. not quite a common sight, but the faint embarrassed expression he quickly hid behind a grin did not escape your eyes. he playfully swatted your face and stood up.

“who said you’re gonna live with me? i’m just planning to include you in the buying process then i’ll leave you alone here.”

“i’ll secretly write my name as the sole owner then. i’d be so quick you won’t even notice me stealing your pen, asshole.”

your boyfriend laughed again; not because of your silliness but because of the happenstance of what you said. such an irony, truly. he shook his head as he thought.

by the time he was finished having an internal monologue, you were already walking far away from him, still preying on the variety of dandelions scattered wildly at the trail. the previous lassitude on your face is now gone. he eventually caught up to you and stopped you from walking by holding your hand as he pointed the other to the sun that is now in its setting glory. as cliche as it looks like, the day ended with you both being completely entranced by the scene.

unbeknownst to you, somewhere along the streets of lake brienz already lies a home unneeding of your clever plan. you must have forgotten already, he deemed. but it’s still clear as day in his mind how you had mentioned of switzerland before. it’s still a secret though. making sure not to mess up an even bigger surprise he plans on giving you, he grinned again at himself.

jeonghan rarely plans dates, but when he does, it always ends up being more than what your heart can long for.

—

© oddaesthetin 2024

[notreallysorryxx]

#"Fluffy"

You and Angel Dust dance in the rain and deal with the aftermath.

Characters: Angel Dust

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff! hehe

Note: I actually struggled writing the way he talks, so I barely gave him any dialogue. I apologise, but Hazbin Hotel characters are hard to write for. And also, I didn't really want to write Angel Dust smut because the poor man needs a break. So here's some innocent romance.

Words: 1k

There was something so morbidly beautiful about the red rain. When you had first arrived in Hell, you hated the rain. It had a disgusting metallic stench and it felt horrid on your skin. However, that was months or possibly years ago and your opinion had changed since then. Especially since you got to experience that with your lover, Angel Dust.

Walking down the sidewalk under an umbrella with him felt like Heaven, ironically enough. His presence was comforting, his silver tongue music to your ears. Angel always offered to hold the umbrella too, despite your protests. But you couldn't deny that it was easier for him to hold it because of his 4 arms. No matter where the two of you went, he kept one arm wrapped around you. Angel was clingy and you found it adorable. He wasn't just clingy, but he was rather protective of you too. The lecherous gaze of other sinners were always met with a glare from your boyfriend.

For once, the rain was bothering you. You just wanted a nice date at a local scenic spot. Well, as scenic as you could get in Hell. It was supposed to be romantic, something different than usual. There was no special occasion, you just wanted to spoil Angel. It was the most you could give him after he had been working all day.

Unfortunately, rain hadn't been on the forecast which meant you and Angel weren't prepared. Neither of you brought an umbrella. With a frown, you look up at the sky miserably. Your boyfriend doesn't seem to mind, smiling absentmindedly.

"I've got an idea, toots," he winks. You're surprised when Angel offers one of his hands. "May I have this dance?" he asks teasingly. It's enough to tear a giggle from your lips, forgetting about the wretched weather. This isn't so bad, you think as you twirl in the rain with Angel. You could get used to this. Angel hums an unrecognisable tune as he dances with you, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter.

Multiple sinners around you were running for cover, but you ignored them. Forget everyone else, you were too enraptured in this dance with your lover.

You couldn't help the grin on your face as Angel dipped you. The both of you locked eyes, laughing. To bypassers, you probably look like idiots.

"Y'know, you're a pretty good dancer, babe," Angel coos, pressing a quick tiny kiss to your cheek. You scrunch up your nose from the ticklish feeling of his fluff. He chuckles at that, flicking your forehead.

Although it is fun dancing in the rain with the love of your life, it's probably not the best to stay in it. Despite being dead, sinners and hellborn still manage to get sick. You found out the hard way. A sneeze from you signals that yeah, you should both get back to the hotel.

Getting a taxi in Hell while it's raining is well... it's Hell. But Angel's popularity really helps in these scenarios. Even though you don't like using his popularity for benefits, you're thankful for it now. While the both of you sit in the back of the taxi cab, Angel holds you close to his fluffy chest. You let your face rest in his chest, nuzzling it.

Usually you'd both be bantering right now, but neither you nor Angel wants to ruin the peaceful atmosphere that's been provided by the rain.

The drive back to the hotel stays peaceful, Angel continuing to hold you close as you both shiver. It's cold now that you've gotten out of the rain. The jacket you had brought was soaked and couldn't be used for warmth anymore.

Finally arriving at the hotel, Angel carries you up the stairs and to his bedroom. You take a quick shower with Angel, drying him off. Drying him off is a longer process than drying off yourself. It's almost like wiping down a wet animal because of his fluff. But you don't mind how long it takes. It feels almost domestic.

You watch in the mirror as Angel stands still for you to dry off. He's adorable and you always tell him that. Though he never believes you. You're often rebuted by him.

"I ain't cute," he would grumble.

"Of course you are," you'd always respond.

With a smile on your face, you kiss his cheek, "Angel~"

Angel practically melts, leaning back into your arms as you dry him off. He lets out a content sigh.

"Hm?"

"You know I adore you, right? I love you so much," you croon, pinching his cheek slightly. "And I think you're adorable-"

"Ah, not this shit again."

The both of you burst into a fit of giggles.

"Just accept it. You're cute. Adorable. Precious."

"I told you, that I'm not fucking-"

You cut him off as you pepper kisses on his face, narrowly missing his lips. Angel tries to grab your cheeks to place a solid kiss on your lips but you manage to wriggle away somehow. You evade him playfully, blocking his kisses.

In the end, he gives up with an endearing pout. You take pity on him, finally giving him the kiss he so desperately wanted.

"Now will you accept it?" you ask cheekily.

"Absolutely not-!"

By some miracle, you finish drying each other off, switching into dry clothes. You just quickly grab something from the stash of clothes you keep in Angel's room.

Before you know it, the two of you are wrapped in fuzzy blankets as you cuddle. Angel has all four of his arms around you.

He keeps you close, letting your head rest on his chest. "If anyone's cute, it's you, babe," he murmurs softly, eyes closing contentedly.

You huff, "I'm not, you are-"

"Let's not turn this into a challenge, toots. Because you know I'd win, obviously."

"No, I'd win!"

"In your dreams, loser-"

Safe to say that this argument lasted until the two of you passed out from exhaustion, still snuggled up together comfortably.

[just-a-carrot]

Some Orlam questions Does he put milk before or after cereal?

Does he cut sandwiches diagonally or straight down?

What does he call those little bugs with many legs?

Does he believe in soulmates or think it’s a scam?

How does he react to stepping on a Lego?

Does he tie his shoelaces bunny-ears style or loop-swoop-pull?

What emoji does he overuse?

Does he use his turn signal while driving (or would he)?

Would he survive a zombie apocalypse?

Would he want to survive a zombie apocalypse?

What’s his go-to pizza topping?

How does he hold a pencil?

Is he the type to sit in chairs properly or like a goblin?

Does he reply “ok” or “k”?

Does he open tabs and never close them?

Would he eat food off the floor (5-second rule)?

Does he say “sorry” too much or never enough?

Is he the designated group therapist or the chaos friend?

Would he get banned from a Minecraft server?

What’s his weirdest search history item?

Does he sleep with socks on?

What’s his default doodle when bored?

How does he react to being called “bro”?

Would he commit petty theft just for fun?

What color does he think his aura is?

Would he try to fistfight God or flirt with Him?

What’s his Starbucks order even if he hates Starbucks?

Does he text in lowercase, CAPS LOCK, or ✨aesthetic✨?

Does he cry during sad movies or hold it in like a champ?

What insult would hurt him the most even if it’s dumb?

Does he keep stickers or actually use them?

How does he organize his apps (or does he)?

Would he save a worm from the sidewalk?

Is he scared of clowns?

What song does he secretly know all the lyrics to?

What’s his villain origin story (minor inconvenience edition)?

Does he chew ice?

Does he rip paper out of notebooks cleanly or sloppily?

Is he good at wrapping presents?

Does he press the elevator button more than once?

Does he talk to his pets in full sentences?

Does he give his plants names?

Would he win in a staring contest?

Does he have ✨main character syndrome✨?

Would he date someone who uses Comic Sans?

What item does he always lose?

Does he say “bless you” after sneezes or ignore it?

Would he rather fight one horse-sized duck or 100 duck-sized horses?

What useless fact does he bring up in every conversation?

What’s his biggest irrational fear?

Does he eat the crust on sandwiches?

Is he an “I can fix them” or “I can make them worse” person?

Would he ghost someone or send a long paragraph?

What’s his most cursed ship (fiction or real life)?

What’s his worst hot take?

What color would his slime be?

What does his handwriting look like?

Would he rather be famous or anonymous?

Does he believe in aliens?

What conspiracy theory would he ironically or unironically believe?

Is he the “you dropped this 👑” type or the “shut up” type?

Does he listen to music with lyrics or only instrumentals while working?

Would he survive a group project without rage-quitting?

Does he correct grammar in texts?

Would he write fanfiction?

Would he leave kudos or a long comment?

Is he a slow typer or a keyboard smasher?

Does he type “lol” when he’s actually laughing or just breathing?

Would he press the red button even if told not to?

What’s his lockscreen?

Would he rather live in a haunted house or a tiny apartment with no windows?

Does he have a weird item in his bag at all times?

What flavor of trauma does he have (e.g., abandonment, perfectionism)?

Would he survive in a horror movie?

What trope does he fall into?

Would he laugh at a funeral (nervous)?

Does he name his inanimate objects?

Is he scared of the ocean or obsessed with it?

Does he pick truth or dare?

How would he react to getting Rickrolled?

What’s his favorite forbidden snack (like glue, chalk, etc.)?

Does he like the smell of gasoline or hate it?

Would he wear Crocs unironically?

What’s his toxic trait (funny edition)?

What’s his lockscreen password guessable from his personality?

Does he think pigeons are government spies?

Would he join a cult by accident?

Does he sing in the car or dramatically lip-sync in the mirror?

Would he be the one who brings snacks or forgets entirely?

What’s his villain monologue about?

Does he read the terms and conditions?

Would he believe a fortune cookie?

Does he organize his books by color, author, or vibes?

Is he afraid of mannequins?

What’s his favorite useless superpower?

Does he knock before entering or barge in?

Would he eat pineapple on pizza?

Would he pretend to like a band to impress someone?

Does he cry when angry?

Would he help a ghost with unfinished business? (the first 100 questions)

Neither, neither, nothing, no, no reaction, neither, none, yes, no, probably not, none, normally, properly, neither, no, no, never, neither, doesn't play, unsure, no, doesn't doodle, hates it, no, unsure, neither, something really complicated, none of the above, never cries, none, doesn't have any, neat and tidy, no, no, many songs, doesn't have one, no, cleanly, yes, no, yes, no, probably, probably, he literally wouldn't care about superfluous things like this, none, ignores, i don't understand, none, unsure, yes, unsure, he writes a lot so, doesn't have one, doesn't have one, huh??, pretty ornate, this is orlam we're talking about here what do you think, no, none, unsure, all types, probably, probably, probably, long, neither, huh???, what, unsure, unsure, unsure, you played the game you should probably know this, maybe, i don't understand, no, no, neither, both probably, unsure, huh???, probably likes it, yes, unsure, idk, no, no, probably, you've literally heard this in the game, probably, no, author, no, unsure, knock, no, no, no, no

[werezmastarbucks]

coco powder

april june masterlist 6/18

word count: 1740

music: bitter fuck by joji

because i can’t get closer to you there’s no name you can call me

When an irregularity occurs enough times, it becomes the new norm. Relative norm, you thought, because you were still getting into storms once in a while. The cascade of your emotions, balancing this relationship, this life that was unthinkable without the two of them, kept you agitated for months. You finished the book half a year in advance and were rid of it. The arthritic pain in your fingers that you already got used to, started to go away. It would gnaw on you for weeks on end because you were overworking yourself. Jungkook would hold your fingers when you started snapping them, and blow gently, like they were open wounds. Then you went to Yoongi, and he would ask if they still hurt, and kiss them carefully, knuckle my knuckle, nail by nail.

Jin was giving you strange looks and you accepted them because you were deserving of them.

But it bothered you if any of the guys had unspoken resentment for you. You wanted to hear it and learn what they think about you. You wanted to relieve them of these thoughts, so that this nonsense, this little you problem wouldn't tug on them, slowing them down.

You pulled on the dry skin and picked at it until the cuticle under it was bloody mess. You tried to rub the finger to cancel the last action, but it didn't work. Your feet brought you into the kitchen, where you saw Jin's back of the head disappeared.

You weren't naturally brutally straightforward; it was the affair that drained you, making you rougher at the edges. You were in shit deeper than caring if Jin tells you off. Secretly you wanted him to tell you that he hated you. When you are one foot into the abyss, the relief doesn't come from being pulled out.

"I want to talk to you".

He let the plastic spoon hang from his lower lip and stopped moving, showing that he's listening. His rusty-ginger hair reflected the light from bright expensive ceiling lights.

Seokjin was always the most distant of them. Someone had to be; you didn't expect all BTS in full number go absolutely mad about you. His coolness, the lack of interest in the depth of your affairs, and the rational opinion on your faults always helped you get into the headspace for living. After being locked away in the house and writing for weeks, you sometimes lost the idea of how the world worked.

"You know about me and Yoongi, right?"

He unfroze, took the spoon off his lip and seemingly lost interest in you. Jin got busy with the pack of sweet coco powder. He always sneezed, coughed or sighed into it like the complete goof he was. He had that other, diva-cold side of him, the one which always accompanies the funniest people.

"Uh-huh, and what?"

"I don't like being sideyed by you. Just tell me what you want to say", you said gently, showing in your tone that there was no animosity from your side. He let his tongue ironically poke the inside of his cheek as he looked at you again. Puffy cheeks, he looked like Jungkook's rodent brother.

"What I think? You'll fuck this up. You're selfish".

You were exploring the torn, mauled insides of your mouth. When Yoongi kissed you, his tongue always tried to mend them a little.

"Yoongi told me it's unfuck-upable", you walked over to him to perch yourself on a stool.

"He did, huh? He says a lot to you, I reckon. That you're the best, and everything".

You were thinking hard of what to say. Didn't want to play your only 'I love them both passionately' card. Other than that, your hands were empty. In truth, you probably hoped Seokjin will instruct you what to think about it. He wanted to add something, but looked at your face again, and stopped.

"You look like shit. Are you sleeping at all?"

"I finally finished my book".

He opened the cupboard door and started searching for something, throwing things around inside; you knew Namjoon will go ballistic about it later. The beauty of their shared existence was unfixable.

"Drink this", he handed you a nutridrink. You looked at the bottle.

"I don't like banana flavor".

His hand brushed the back of your head, making your hair fly up.

"Drink-aah!"

He let himself linger on you strictly. You cracked the bottle open under his merciless gaze and took a sip. He smacked his plump lips together and went back to the sweet powder. He ate it with spoons, dry, constantly choking on it, and never listened to anybody's protests. While he chewed on it, he couldn't speak, but you felt he wanted to say more.

"Do I have to choose?" you asked him suddenly. Jin moved his bulging eyes towards you, mouth full of powder.

"Between them?"

He blinked so expressively that you nodded.

"Okay, I can't anyway".

Every photoshoot that you attended, every training, every ceremony and event where you were invited as Jungkook's plus one, now looked different. You started noticing that your eyes split. You used to just look at him, bask in his handsomness, with barely ghostly thoughts floating around, pushing everything else out. Now, you intentionally looked at the two of them. The glowing, pure, masculine beauty of Jungkook, his youthfulness, and the dark, jaded, eye-clutching presence of Yoongi. You started noticing other women looking at him, as well. It was always a running joke among them that Yoongi, the shortest of them, the plumpest, the most awkward, was insanely popular with women. Tae once jokingly called him the Laughing Man, like from the Hugo's book; of course Yoongi wasn't anywhere close to disfigured or ugly, but his inner wound shone through, making him appealing. He always had an inner injury that made him keep his eyes half-open and his shoulders up. He would lick the corner of his mouth and change the leading foot, and women around would instinctively understand that he is the baggage. The baggage-package: sarcastic, deep, reluctant, lazy. There was always a woman around him, that desperately wanted to ride him raw. No amount of makeup or procedures could hide his genuine rough Min features.

Your mind constantly slid off Jungkook, and onto Yoongi, and you pulled yourself back by the ear. There was no scenario in which you wanted to lose maknae. Not for the selfish reasons of ownership, money or glory, but because the way he loved you made you bound to him for life. There was no home if Jungkook wasn't there. It's his arms you ran into; you just couldn't tune into his specific frequency for skinless desire. You didn't need sex from Jungkook. If you never had sex since today and until the end of the world, you wouldn't fall out of love with him, wouldn't get less interested in what he worried about, and what songs he was listening to in his car on the way to an interview. Spring, with all its visceral pain, propped up summer for the living.

You seemed to have cut off a part of Yoongi with the same scalpel he used to use on himself. The time you spent with the both of them was slowly starting to adjust to itself; you couldn't figure out how, but Yoongi was for emotions, and Jungkook was for peace. You wondered whether one person could ever encapsulate all of it together. But in this game, you had to take into account your own participation, as well. There was a girl somewhere in the world that would be able to choose between them, but not you, the layered girl.

You lay in his arms, his left hand tickling your side with light touch. Yoongi coughed and you looked at him. His hand caressed your head.

"Jin told me you spoke to him about us", he said in an opaque voice.

"It wasn't a conversation. He filled his mouth with coco and made me drink banana piss. Told me I was selfish, that's all".

He hummed with his whole chest.

"I knew he knows".

"Everybody knows", Yoongi hooted calmly.

"How so?"

"We are very close. We all went into your relationship with Cookie knowing that we both loved you. That is, except for him. It was an open secret between us. Not like they could tell me to stop".

You rolled onto your side to put your arm across him, to hold him. Yoongi pulled the blanket over you two and hooked your leg under the knee to drag it across his tummy. It wasn't getting any older. You hoped it would, but it didn't. Every time Yoongi was within an inch from you, you gasped; the jolts of pain shot down your sides and into the uterus, making you curl; it still felt like you won seven minutes in heaven and they were about to run out. Yoongi set the feeling anew every time he moved his pupils. It was catastrophically new.

"I barely see him anymore", you said quietly. The phone in your bag rang once with the notification, the sound being 'bamboo' which told you it's your editor.

"June?"

"Yes. He's never at home. It's neverending".

"Didn't you know he's an idol?" Yoongi smirked. "He's taking fire for all of us, so that we can stay at home with our women, and men".

His palm was big against your shoulder. It moved slowly, rubbing the edges, and they were becoming rounder under his touch. Once you'd leave, you'd become sharp and rough again.

"Is he avoiding me?" you suddenly freaked. Yoongi winced, asking you to put your head back.

"No. He is working too much. It's February, the deals season. He'll be back soon".

"When he's back, you start training together again".

He clicked his tongue and chuckled. You wanted to stop speaking about it. Pushed yourself up to reach his mouth, and he took the kiss and grew it French. Your finger was lightly stroking his surgery scars on the shoulder. Yoongi was full of scars, and you stroke all of them, knowing perfectly well that they didn't hurt. They were his tiger stripes, but you liked the texture.

Yoongi didn't entertain your complaints, but after that day Jungkook started coming back home two hours earlier. Overworked, all wet from rain, and smiling. You cried yourself to sleep.

[whaleofatjme1920]

My Version of Eyeless Jack

So, there's no cohesive narrative here I just wanted to infodump a bunch of stuff about how I write my EJ. I'll put it in headcanon form but know whenever you read my newer EJ fics (or whenever I get an inkling to talk about him), this is exactly how I envision him and want him to be seen as.

EJ grew up in a Polish somewhat American household. He's a second generation, with his parents both being from Poland and most of their extended family in the old country. His mother is from a smaller city in the southwest, and his father from Krakow. His mother instilled in him a deep love of the natural world, and a hunger for learning.

Jack's obsession for medicine and whatnot came up because his father was just a bit insane about keeping him healthy. Any cough or sneeze was instantly investigated. He was a bit sheltered in that sense, and was prone to sneaking out to experience a normal adolescence and whatnot as he grew up.

While Jack is not averse to getting his hands dirty and doing jobs no one else would even THINK of, he's still gotta go through a full cleansing and decontamination when he's done.

I like to think that, as a kid, he was deeply in love with Slavic mythology and he was, surprise surprise, really into Chernobog. That wasn't Chernobog whispering in his ear he was just always interested whether he realized it or not. This kinda faded out around 12 years old but as a guy that's literally possessed by him now, fused to make an entirely new being, he finds it just a hair ironic.

Yeah, he did have to go to Polish school on the weekends. Sometimes he loved it, other times not at all.

He was his parents only child so he was kind of under a magnifying glass from them both.

He was actually quite close with his grandmothers!

Jack has always had a biting, sarcastic wit. He can balance professionalism with clinical sarcasm fantastically. His humor is very deadpan and he'll dupe you multiple times if you're not careful.

Jack doesn't always understand why people insist on social politeness. He actually favors bluntness, but will be polite if the situation calls for it.

He has three tongues. Yes, he's choked on them before. This mostly happened in the beginning when he was first getting used to his new body.

He doesn't like sweet foods, but certain organs are sweeter to him than others. He can't quite explain that, but he favors certain parts of people over others.

He can eat human food, but it's like junk food for him. He will always need to feast on humans from time to time to keep himself well. Also this is NOT a constant thing with him. He has like a major feeding once or twice a month, and smaller feedings ever 7-10 days. He can get by just fine, he's not always starving.

Most of his work is him just preparing in case he's in a situation he can't hunt.

His body can heal at an accelerated rate!

Because he's possessed by/permanently fused with Chernobog, he has 'starfish' tendencies. Meaning, if he loses a finger, in about 6 months he'll have a new one. Anything bigger might take years but he's never been in a situation where that's needed to happen. This does not mean he's invincible.

Slender Man, who has been around for way longer than any of us can conceive, finds it funny that Chernobog is fused with a socially awkward young man who couldn't even ask a girl out normally and forewent his survival instinct just to hang out with her.

Slender Man, when just with Jack, will speak with him in Polish or older forms of Slavic languages when more directly addressing Chernobog.

Jack is physically HUGE. He's like 6'8, because his merging made him bigger. He was already tall at 5'10, but Chernobog required a bigger vessel. So, he painfully grew bigger. He's quite muscular, not overtly so but you know he has physical strength.

He's,,,,, human-like in appearance. Gives off uncanny valley at times.

He's actually quite funny and does take some joy in making people laugh.

He's not besties with Jeff but they are, more often than not, together doing things.

He actually prefers Jane's company!

It takes so, so long to gain his actual trust. He has varying levels of it, like anyone else, but it's difficult to even breach his first layer.

Has a deep fondness for birds, specifically vultures.

Doesn't like dogs. He has never liked dogs. Smile is his one and only exception. Does like cats.

His body has a stupid tattoo on his thigh he got when drunk one night at uni. He's still mildly embarrassed by it.

He occasionally smokes weed.

He won't admit it, but anyone that looks like Jenny brings back terrible, terrible memories. When he was younger, those types of women used to trigger panic attacks. He's much better now, but seeing women that look like her make him very uncomfortable.

He doesn't enjoy strong smelling perfumes or colognes. He thinks the scents themselves are nice, but they give him migraines. His sense of smell is very strong and well.

He can actually function quite well in normal society, he just doesn't physically fit the image. And even using his glamour-he sticks out from his height alone.

Jack wouldn't say this to anyone, but he sometimes hangs around in his glamour just to remember what he used to look like before. It's not a 100% match, but he sees himself as older. A bit more jaded and weathered. He wonders what would have happened if he listened to his roommate and didn't go.

[cellarfulofnose]

the nurse

Lately I've been re-reading this ongoing reader insert in which a young nurse cares for Bob after his motorcycle crash. It takes place in rural NY state and I start to fantasize every time they go outside. It feels strange writing a fanfic of a fanfic, but it had to be done. Give the original author some love, just remember you didn't hear it from me.

And my best friend, my doctor Won't even say what it is I've got.

I felt Bob behind me, looking over my shoulder. Besides the shadow he was casting across my easel, I could hear his breathing, hard and heavy enough that I almost suspected he was doing it on purpose. I didn’t like making art with an audience, especially painting from life, rare as those times were. He was a performer. Maybe he wouldn’t get it. I swiveled my head around and stared meaningfully at him.

He met my eyes, then looked back at the paper, then out at the garden. “That what you’re painting?” he asked, pointing.

“Maybe,” I said, not taking my eyes from him.

“A surprise, huh?” He’d lost interest. While he left to sit on a white wrought iron bench, I dipped my brush in the water and went on mixing colors. I added a little more yellow to the green. It still didn’t look like the trees, but who said I was going for realism?

Bob breathed deeply. I didn’t think anything of it because of what he’d said about fresh air—he wasn’t even smoking. But then he convulsed, making a sound that ended in a cry of pain. I didn’t realize until the aftermath, with Bob rubbing his hurt neck, that he’d sneezed. He’d tried to hold it in, I figured by the snorting sound, but it’d ruptured out of him anyway in the end, jostling his neck. 

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Bob gave nothing in reply. I guess I was silly to expect him to nod or shake his head, but he just stayed stiff, grinding his teeth.

I set my brush down in preparation to get up. “Want me to take a look?”

He flashed me a look of such incredulity that I started to doubt myself. “How does it feel? Your neck,” I asked. “Any change?”

“Same old,” he huffed.

“All right.” I shook my head in exasperation, which was slightly unprofessional, but he wasn’t looking at me anyway. The trees swayed. It was hot, but the breeze was nice. I thought about trying to paint the willow boughs in motion.

Bob gave a mild groan of disgust. “Gotta sneeze again.”

I looked up and saw him gingerly pinching his nostrils shut between his thumb and middle finger, long nails on display. “And it hurts your neck?” I asked.

He shut his eyes. “Yeah.”

The breeze lifted my hair, and something occurred to me. “Do you—”

He seemed like he was going to be able to fight it off, but the next moment he gasped hurriedly and sneezed, crumpling like a can of pop and finishing with a pained yelp.

I set down my brush. “Bless you. Do you have allergies?”

He took a deep breath, still holding his nose. I thought he was going to sneeze a third time. Instead he just said, “Guess so.”

“You guess so?”

Bob dropped his right hand to his lap and sniffed, rubbing his neck with the other. “You’re the doctor.”

“I’m not an allergist. I’m a nurse.”

He exhaled, sounding like a scoff. “Well, you got anything for allergies in that bag of yours?”

“No,” I lied. All I had was Benadryl, and I didn’t want to risk making his hypotension any worse. “But I can run to the store and get you some. But for now, why don’t we go back inside?”

“You’re not done painting.” Bob sniffed. The sound he produced was no joke. Inwardly, I cringed in sympathy.

“Come on,” I said, getting up. “You can change clothes and wash your hair. That’ll help you get rid of some of the pollen.” I said you even though I knew I’d be the one changing and bathing him. I thought he might be more inclined to go along with it if he thought it was his choice.

Bob didn’t get up, even when I poured out the water from my jar and stowed my brushes in their carrying case. “Uh-oh,” he said suddenly, drawing my attention. He put his hand over his mouth and nose, and I thought for sure he’d sneeze, but somehow among all his huffing and puffing he wrestled it. His eyes were weepy like he’d been cutting onions.

“Okay,” he said weakly, and got up to follow me.

I was surprised that did it. I wasn’t surprised that he refused to either bathe or change once we made it up the stairs. His last bath had been only yesterday, and I knew him too well now to imagine he would budge on that front. While I went to fill his glass with tap water, I left him in bed with a box of tissues. There was a rustling as he tore out two or three at once. He sneezed, sharply but muffled.

“Ouch!”

“I’m coming.” I tried not to spill too much as I hurried to his side and handed him the water and aspirin.

He swallowed both and settled back on the pillows. “What now?”

“Try to sleep. It might make you feel better, since it’ll take a while for the pills to kick in.”

“Sleep? How’m I s’posed...” 

Like a slow-moving train, I saw it coming a mile off, but there was nothing either of us could do to stop it. Bob’s chest filled with air and he sneezed, then whined like he’d been punched in the stomach as he clutched his neck. It was enough to make me wince.

“Can’t sleep. How’m I s’posed to sleep? Can’t stop sneezing long enough to shut my eyes.” His voice was so congested, on top of his tendency to mumble, that he was almost hard to understand, but his body relaxed into an upright sleeping position.

On a whim, I lay my hand across his forehead. It could be he was just coming down with something, though unless he picked it up from Robbie and Levon I didn’t see how. Sure enough, he was no warmer or cooler than usual. 

“You gotta check my bruises?” he asked beneath me.

I shook my head. “I’m going out to get antihistamines. Can you manage for a while?”

“Man.” He seemed sour. I figured he was reluctant to let me leave but too stubborn to ask me to stay, but I didn’t know why; I was only getting on his nerves. “You can get somethin’ for this?” he asked.

“Yes,” I repeated. “I’ll try to be quick, but do you think you can sleep until then?”

“I c’n sleep, just don’t let me sneeze.”

His bizarre turn of phrase caught me off guard again. “Well, I’m sorry, I’m not sure I can help with that. Do you want a steam bath for your sinuses?” It was a bad idea—he’d probably have to bend over—but I couldn’t think of anything else.

“Don’t wanna keep...” With an uncanny sense of timing, Bob interrupted himself by starting to sneeze, but he capped it before it could escape, grabbing his nose and holding his breath. His shoulders shook with the would-be sneeze, and it didn’t seem to strain his neck, but he immediately clamped a hand to his forehead and hissed like someone had driven a spike through it.

“Okay, don’t do that,” I said dumbly. As mad as I was at myself for coming up short, I was madder at him for willfully enabling his own suffering. What kind of allergy sufferer didn’t travel with medication, and acted like their symptoms came as some great surprise? I guessed it was pretty late in the season, and that maybe this was a different climate than he was used to. Nevertheless, I was mad. Well, not mad, but pretty annoyed.

Bob’s nostrils started to flare, and he wedged a finger haphazardly across his upper lip.

“Push. Press,” I said, thinking of the vagus nerve. He obeyed, his eyes screwing up with effort, and that seemed to do the trick.

“Better?” I asked.

“That’s fuckin’ ten times worse,” he said, his voice pinched. He certainly didn’t look happy.

“Stop me if it’s too much.” I took his reddened nose between my thumb and fingers and started to massage, rubbing in slow circles.

His face tightened. Tears rolled down his cheeks onto my fingertips. “Jesus.”

I sighed inwardly, my ears and face burning with embarrassment that I couldn’t bring him relief. “Would it feel better if you just sneezed? I’ll hold your head and make sure you don’t hurt your neck.”

Bob’s eyes peeked open. I was startled at the color—they were so much bluer when he was crying, contrasted against red. But I held his gaze, and he lowered his hand in silent surrender. It seemed like his run-in with allergies made him unusually docile. I quickly braced my palm across his forehead, just enough to feel the give of the pillows behind him. My other hand cupped his neck securely. 

“Go ahead,” I said.

Bob shivered a little. When he ripped out a handful of tissues and held them to his face, I considered for the first time that this might not be easy for him. At the clinic I’d been sneezed on more times than I could count. It didn’t bother me anymore. I couldn’t very well keep my job if I was a germophobe, or touchy about that sort of thing. But for someone who wasn’t desensitized to it, I might as well have asked him to relieve himself with an audience. He struggled with it for a moment, but the pollen soon won over and he let out a tiny little puff of a sneeze. Once the dam broke, he sneezed properly. I felt it ring through his chest.

“Does it hurt?” I’d kept my hands in place and felt very little movement, but I wanted to be sure.

“It’s fine,” he managed, almost whispering, and immediately sneezed. Multiple times, like a broken record. I lost count. It only lasted a few moments, but I started to worry.

“Anything hurt?”

“Wish my–” Bob blew his nose vigorously. “–head fell off.” He coughed lightly and kept blowing his nose.

I didn’t like to imagine the effect this must be having on his blood pressure, but I drew back my hands to let him finish. “I’ll get you those meds,” I said.

Bob gave no reaction. With my hand on the doorknob, I looked over one shoulder for a final check. He was propped up against the pillows, asleep. I shut the door quietly.

[feverfangs]

HI HELLO have this random thing I wrote while half-asleep that I thought might do numbers on snzblr & appeal to you specifically

A faint, raspy sigh. The scent of cherry and menthol. Baggy clothes that almost swallow their limbs entirely, long sleeves bunched around their wrists and cuffed slacks dragging with each shuffling step. Disheveled curls that catch the morning sunlight. Eyelids heavy, doleful, drowsy with fever, encircled by dark bags that make them look bruised.

A soft hitch. A muffled sneeze that sounds equal parts sleepy and desperate. A second one, far raspier than the first, and far more relieving.

It’s only mid-morning, and their energy is already flagging.

It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it…?

ANON YOU'RE COOKING! GRILLING!! WOK FRYING!!! BAKING!!!! SMELTING DOWN IRON AND FORGING SWORDS!!!!!

Like you mean to tell me you wrote this HALF ASLEEP??? I couldn't write anything like this wide awake, fully energized, completely sober, and after consuming the restless soul of Edgar Allen Poe, bruh. I'm foaming at the mouth like a rabid fox.

You need to hone these skills & become a writer if you aren't already, fr. Everyone clap and cheer 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 Give it up for anon 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

[circusgoth-dotcom]

Winter Blessings

Ship: Sweeney Todd x Bill Fang

Word Count: 799

Summary: After a decade+ of being in a hot climate against his will, Sweeney has almost forgotten what winter in London is like, along with what it can do to one's physical health. Luckily his boyfriend is willing to lend a hand, even with his stubbornness. CWs for sickness mentions, allusions to murder possibly, outdated medical advice- treatment lifted from here. A/N: I ironically developed a cough while writing this, I love winter. (sarcastic, light-hearted) 👍

Tag List: @canongf @dudefrommywesterns @futurewife

Winter had come and Sweeney still had yet to get his hands around the Judge’s throat. He had been in the parlour only once, back when Sweeney had first returned to London, but a mishap with Anthony had sullied his chances. Furthermore, it had further ruined the quality of life for Johanna, who had been sent away in the Judge’s “fear” of Anthony’s presumed lust for her.

Nobody knew where exactly he had locked her away, but Sweeney’s own ideas about the matter were enough to haunt him night after night. Only one good thing had come of returning home so far, and that was Bill Fang, the sweetest, most understanding man he had ever met. A promise that when all was said and done, someone would still love him. Blood-stained hands and all.

He had almost completely forgotten what winters in London were like after a decade and more of sweating away in prison. He thought he could recall a time when the white snow blanketing the rooftops was magical, but now the icy streets were merely bleak reflections of the pain he felt inside. Even the once pure snow was now a disgusting grey slurry. Considering he had been so far removed from winter as a concept for so long, it never occurred to him that the change in seasons would affect his health. It began as general drowsiness and a slight cough, and as the cold raged on, it developed into sneezing and shakes. He ignored the symptoms, or perhaps he didn’t recognize them due to distractions.

Either way, it didn’t halt him in his tracks, at least not until one evening when he had set out to purchase more firewood. As he was bringing the wood back to the shop, he felt entirely out of breath and as if his head was stuffed with cotton. Sniffling irritably, he pushed forward, the harsh wind slicing at his red cheeks, his skin numbing by the second. By the time he made it back, he was coughing so hard he could barely keep a handle on the split logs. Bill immediately hopped up from his chair beside the fireplace and rushed to close the door.

“Oh, Sweeney, you sound terrible…” He took the wood from him and placed it beside the fireplace before turning to get a good look at him. “My word, you didn’t tell me you were sick! I could’ve gone out to get the wood, you should’ve stayed in!”

Catching wheezing breaths, Sweeney waved his hand dismissively. “Not sick… ‘m fine, really, Bill.”

“Oh no you’re not.” They put their hands on his cheeks. “You’re freezing!” With that, he forced Sweeney toward the fire and began taking off his coat. “How long has this been going on?”

Reluctantly, Sweeney sat in Bill’s chair and let them take off the rest of his outdoor gear. He flexed his fingers in front of the flames and cleared his throat. “Since the first snowfall, I’d reckon.”

Bill made an exasperated sound as he began adding more wood to the fire. “And you’ve been working all this time?? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“It’s a very big deal when you sound like a dog is trying to escape your ribcage, Sweeney.” Bill sighed when he was satisfied with the glow in the room and turned to Sweeney again, cupping his flushed ears. “I want you to close up shop for the time being, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

“And Mrs. Lovett’s business?”

“To Hell with it for all I care! I can’t have you withering away on me now!” As they began to hyperventilate, Sweeney placed his hands on their hips.

“Hey, hey, I’m not going anywhere, pup…” He spoke soothingly, pausing to turn his head and cough again. “If you want me to rest, I’ll rest. I promise, I won’t leave you behind.”

They hugged him tightly for a long time, passing on their own body heat to warm their lover’s bones. When they pulled away, they quickly retrieved a blanket and wrapped it around him.

“I’m going to make you some pepper tea, and tomorrow I’m going to prepare a mustard plaster for your back, it should help with the cough. Other than that I want you to drink plenty of fluids and try not to do any strenuous activity until you start to feel better, understood?”

Sweeney’s eyes shown as he looked up at them. “You’re too good to me, you know that? What did I do to deserve this second chance?”

“You’ve suffered long enough, and someday, you will suffer no longer.” They kissed his forehead and set off for the kitchen, leaving him with his thoughts.

[residentdormouse]

Springing into a Word Search

Alright, I have been sitting on this so long, that I got tagged in another set of words in the meantime. Bad Mouse. Must get my writing routine back....

Anyway, thank you @mrsmungus for keeping my tiny writer gears grinding. Although, this is probably my worst showing yet. Not a Spring girl, I'm afraid. Probably not great seeing as my blorbos is all about painting. It's pretty, I suppose....

My Words: Growth, Flower, Fresh, Dawn, Easter, Break, Clean, Rainbow, Blossom/Bloom/Bud, Hayfever (or sneeze, or allergies)

I will as well leave this as an OPEN TAG because I don't know how many would want to join our constant word search absurdity. If you even remotely think, 'hey that might be fun', please do not hesitate to join, and tag me so I don't miss it!

Your Words: Swim, Beach, Sand, Waves, Float, Heat, Vacation, Rest, Relax, Calm

As always, excerpts below the cut.

Growth: Dammit - you got me. Not one mention. Touché.

Flower: (From Diving)

The larger space was a welcome change from the harsh area they had just been in, and Glen welcomed the sight coming from the large picture window on the side wall. Well maintained pebble walkways led around a quaint garden area. A few trees, shrubs, a couple black iron benches, and tinges of pinks, yellows, and oranges popped out from the various flowers planted around the walkways. Crystal clear water fell in a continuous flow from the center fountain, with a few brightly colored fish in the small pond below. He found himself gravitating closer to the scene, as the others could be heard pacing about or taking seats in the numerous open couches scattered around the space.

Fresh: (We got fresh blood, fresh starts, fresh milk, and a fresh hell. Haven't done a Harold section in a while, so Fresh start it is.)

“Okay, so I'm just gonna jump in cause I don't have much finesse with all this and I don't use my words as well as Glen. And you don’t have to say anything. I’ll sit here and babble like an idiot; you can jump in if you want.” Deep breath. “We're about to get to Boulder. You can choose who you want to be now. And correct me if I’m wrong, but right now, you don't seem like somebody who's very happy. So you can keep on carrying pain from a life you don't have anymore, and I’ll stop bothering. But if we're choosing, maybe you can choose to leave that pain here. Right here. When we hit Boulder, you have your fresh start. You can be the guy who holds up his end of deals, and writes stories, and has fun. Or whoever else you want to be." Gaze still locked on the fire, she tapped his foot with hers, trying to pull his attention. "It's your call, but you have that choice..."

Dawn: (Only one Dawn, and its not great. Can you tell I'm not a morning person?)

The night remained clear from threats and capped off the rain day break as a needed detour. Susan and Dayna were able to enjoy the small comfort of sleeping in an actual bed, safe within their room walls. Harold started in on one of the blank books he picked up, filling the journal pages by candlelight. Hayden and Glen found comfort with each other, while he shared stories into the night. And Fran found the walls quiet enough to chance a visit next door with Stu. By the end of dawn the next morning, everything was packed and ready to move on. One step closer to Boulder.

Easter: Once again, you got me. Guess who's least favorite season is Spring...

Break: (Hey! I finally got one from Close to the Vale!)

Humor remained in his expression, most likely resulting from her momentary stupor, but she held his gaze for as long as she could, only breaking away to glance downward when the sliver of self consciousness took hold. Even still, her smile remained. Despite her downcast focus, she was still able to catch the way his eyebrows raised in amusement before he turned back towards the counter. Holding out a packet in the air, he proceeded to move along the worn down surface until he hit an opening.

Clean: (Not the segment you thought you would get for this word, is it?)

"C'mon, everybody needs a little break here and there!" But that’s what Teddy failed to realize; this wasn't a break. Not to him. What Teddy was proposing was entering a social battle that required constant vigilance. Anticipate the moves, blend into the background when possible, and strike out only with a sure bet. Practiced movements and rehearsed repertoire. Break? Exhausting is what it was, and Harold certainly didn't have the energy to put up a front for that long. Not after a full day of clean up. The thought of the daily activities only ushered in a wave of fresh memories. Sensory recall he wished he could will away. Smells that would threaten to up heave anything he managed to put down. Decomposition. It lingered in his nostrils and he could almost taste it. That’s all that was there for him. Death. Disgust… All things he would put up with to position himself where he needed to. A place to get the most leverage when the time came.

Rainbow: (Only two of these, and I'm pretty certain I used the other one on our last Tumblr takeover. Guess we're having a Harold day now...)

"He knows, by the way. So there's that. Knew before I got there. Maybe I shouldn't have confirmed it, but what the fuck, y'know? I'm not gonna blatantly lie to his face..." Knowing her well enough to predict that she would look to follow after his couple puffs, Glen held the pen out to her voluntarily. There was no hesitation to take it. "That said, don't think she was off base with the concern. Something's not right with him." "What makes you say that?" No humor to it, no jokes, just inquiry. "He wants to quote, show the world who it's playing against, unquote, or something like that. However he said it, though, it didn't sound like something one does with rainbows and butterflies." "No, it doesn't." "So, I repeat. When did this all get so fucked…"

Blossom/Bloom/Bud: (Don't have any blossoms or blooms, but we got weed by god. Knew I'd find a 'bud'.)

Despite being quick, or at least thinking he was, it wasn’t fast enough. As he rounded the corner, he spotted Benny laying down on the floor. A few more steps and he could confirm there was no longer a rise and fall to his chest. A few steps further and the gap between them closed. Once he set down his bag, Glen closed the man’s eyes. The small container of buds was then placed in his hands, much like one would place the more common type of flower. Sure, it did nothing for him at this point, and there was nobody left here to know what was done, but it made him feel better. Humanity could die out, but it didn't mean he had to lose himself or his ways along with it. Not until that time came for him as well. As he stepped back out into the daylight, he took a deep breath of the fresh air, savoring the aroma that lacked the lingering stench of death.

Hayfever/Sneeze/Allergies: Holy fuck dude, you got me again. I think this is the worst I've ever done at one of these...

[frozen-borderline]

Letter to Nico's son Ari

New York, October 1982.

"Dear Ari,

You don't know me but I know your, Mum, Nico. Her record company asked me to write a few words for her new release and rather than a serious "critique" I thought it would be fun to write you a letter and tell you a story about her.

There are many good stories about Nico. This is about her penchant for marvelously curious catastrophes and could be entitled: NICO AND THE DOCTRINE OF UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES.

It was 1974 or 75 in Paris. I was managing MAGMA, a fiercely original and uncompromising band, not welcome, of course, on the radio, TV or in commercial clubs. We had a hard time getting gigs and saving money to improve the equipment and we were playing in Maison des Jeunes, parking lots, public squares, abandoned churches, slowly but surely making progress. Although I had never met your mother I knew her work and much admired her uniquely ironic and accurate sense of the dilemmas and contradictions facing modern artists. So, when my friends Bob and Barbara Benamou introduced me to her I was delighted. At the time, pursuing a seemingly obscure but no doubt meaningful artistic quest, she was working with Philippe Garrel who, besides literally starving, was making some mysterious beautiful avant-garde films. She was also living with him in this apartment where everything, but everything, was painted black. Now, you know your mother's propensy to dark, conspiratorial plots, no one can quite follow, and I don't precisely remember how it occurred, but one day she ended up living with my wife, my newborn baby and myself in our house in Sèvres. She was easy to live with, considerate and discreet, except that first thing in the morning she would ask one to partake in a concoction of 100 proof peppered Polish vodka with hot-sauce and God knows what else that would set fire to one's mouth. One night I took her to see MAGMA and she sort of fell in love with their music. Opening her eyes in wonderment she would say in her slow rounded speech: "Oh! But Giorgio, this is the best band in the world..." The band, particularly Christian Vander also liked her work. They, were due for a tour, she for a record, so, I thought, let's put them together for a while and, who knows, something great might evolve. As I told you, intelligent music was not exactly in demand and touring France was more like guerrilla warfare, with endless Identity Checks at toll-booths of the Autoroute, cancellations of concerts for political reasons and other no less harassing difficulties. We were, however, breaking new ground and just about perceiving the end of the tunnel. So, when on a cold, misty and wet morning in February - having warned Nico to expect a certain degree of discomfort - we left Paris, our spirits were high: She needed the money and we needed the exposure.

MAGMA's line-up at the time consisted of 7 musicians and 2 roadies and normally they would all be travelling in an old Mercedes van which took 9 people plus the equipment. With Nico and myself we were 12 now, so I took my car along, an old but comfortable 2-seater, Facel-Vega in which everyone wanted to ride and I had a hard time establishing fair turns.

The first 2 or 3 gigs want off well but as luck would have it - and thanks to drafty hotel rooms and poorly heated halls - your mother came down with a terrible cold. This prompted her to acquire a substantial supply of medicines of all kinds, culminating with a particular brand of cough-syrup which, much to our relief, seemed to alleviate her condition and generally keep her cheerful. Never mean when it came to sharing her discoveries, she invited us all to taste the healing properties of her elixir and soon, everyone began to sneeze, puff, cough and whiffle and buying little brown bottles.

A few days later at one of the most important concerts of the tour —in Lyon or Avignon— I remember her (and everyone else for that matter) getting on stage with a whole supply of these little bottles. Sipping and singing, singing and sipping, she stayed up there for over an hour and a half, finally provoking the legendary impatient French audience into cat-calls and boos.

You can imagine the mood the next day. Never short on quips, Die Alte Zwetschge ("Old Plum", an affectionate tease) was totally disconsolate, disenchanted and displeased with me, the tour, Magma, life and the whole thing. Our next gig was in Toulouse, quite a distance away and I planned to leave early with the sound-roadie to check out the old theatre where the show was scheduled. Somewhat apprehensive, I thought perhaps she should ride with me and the roadie but then decided she'd be more comfortable in the van and after imploring the boys in Magma to use all their guises to cajole her during the long journey, I left.

We got to the theatre early, checked="checked"things out and waited for the van to arrive. 7 O'clock, 7:30, 8, 8:30, no van. The concert was due to start at 9, so we began to worry a little and decided to backtrack up the road and find out what, if anything, had happened. You can imagine my horror when, in the middle of nowhere some 20 miles from the city, I saw the van lying nose down, off the roadside, in a 50 foot deep embankment and, but for empty syrup bottles, no-one in sight. Fearing the worst, I drove to the nearest gas station and called the theatre. No news. I asked the people there to call the police and every hospital in the region and holding my breath drove back to the city as fast as I could. When I got there a considerable commotion was under way: hundreds of people were crowding the entrance, pushing and shoving. Somehow I ploughed my way through got inside and there in the foyer the most sorrowful sight awaited me : looking like a bunch of wounded from World War 1, with bandages on heads, knees, elbows and feet, leaning on crutches and walking-sticks, sat Nico and the most forlorn-looking band of musicians I ever laid eyes on. I know that mine was perhaps not the most considerate reaction, but I couldn't help laughing. Naturally I tried to find out what had happened; between Nico's dark mutterings and the band's contradictory narratives it was impossible to figure out and to this day we'll never really know. I remember that with her bandages and walking-sticks your mother looked like the ultimate Mater Dolorosa of Rock & Roll at the mercy of Unintended Consequences...

Of course the concert got cancelled and so did the rest of the tour. Nico went back to Paris, then to England. Magma went back to saving money for a new van, and the record was never made. Who knows, it might still happen one day. In the meantime I often ask myself: What the hell was in that cough-syrup ?

Sincerely yours, GIORGIO GOMELSKY."

[angel-lopes2000]

ok so i was wondering. Carrie making nice sweater for brick so he wont get cold. im sure he would love it

Your wish became true! 🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻💕💕💕💕

A Friend Loves at All Times

After a party's friends last night, Brick woke up, finding that he's late from job. "Oh shit!" He thought to himself, it was like 07:00am and the local should start at 08:30am, the traffic were completely terrible that time. Brick looked to that asleep Carrie, oh how adorable she looked during the sleep - he couldn't help but giving at kiss at her cheek.

"Goodbye, love! Promise to return later." Whispered to her ear, she could feel a chill running on neck, but smiled by hearing his typical sweet-goofy tone. And grinned with a red smile around the cheeks.

And with all caring to not wake her, Brick crawled silently like a slug, feeling the coldness on floor by his fingers. "Uuugh! Looks like it would be freezy today..'' Exclaimed to himself. And in few seconds, brushed the teeths, wore some clothes, a toast with butter and drove faster as could. Roading tires for minutes, Brick looked to clock, now it miss just three minutes to arrive the doom at time.

"HEY DUDE! MOVE ON, I DON'T HAVE TIME!!" Yelled in frustration, but nothing to the traffic move, so he tried for a short cut. It worked, however, his car got an engine dysfunction: it didn't stop leaking oil, it some short smokes and one of the tires were empty because a sharp rock on way. He could call Bill the Mechanic, but he was already pretty late, so Brick didn't have choices except to push after the job. As expected, Brick was scolded by his boss and made to write down all the paperwork and followed up by screwing in all the long pipes for buildings under development.

At lunchtime, Carrie decides to call her husband and notices that, as well as having forgotten his coat, Brick hasn't taken the lunch she prepared last night.

"Hi darling!" Said the freckled girl, in the same sweet, soft tone, which was like a song to the young man's ears.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Carrie explained to him what had happened, and of course the boy apologized, but the understanding girl consoled him, saying she'd put it in the microwave so he could eat it at dinner time. And later, after all the paperwork has been done and the screws have been fixed in the pipes, Brick pushes his car to Bill's garage, and it takes more than three long hours before the car finally starts working again, and so Brick, despite dealing with a hangover, storms, a car that had broken down and all dirty and messy with sweat and mud, manages to get home.

"Bricky!" Carrie came running towards her, completely excited by her husband's arrival. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, making him blush shyly.

"Hi, princess!" Said the boy, tired and a little weak from overwork.

"Are you all right, darling?" Brick tried to hide the fact that nothing was wrong, but from the moment he started sneezing, the girl realized that the boy had caught a cold, so the blonde used her powers to carry the boy's suitcase and support him to the living room. In the living room, while Carrie went to the kitchen to prepare some medicinal tea, Brick noticed that there was a box next to her. It was pink, decorated with red roses and small white balls. Next to it, there was a letter and this letter was not ironically for Brick, which made the boy smile genuinely, even after a stressful day.

He kisses the letter and opens the package, which turns out to be a beautiful sweater, made by Carrie herself, which was due to be unveiled at Christmas. When Carrie returned, she laughed at the boy's reaction.

"Do you like the sweater, love?" He looked like a child who had just been given a new toy, the boy hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek several times, making the shy girl blush absurdly.

"You're simply the best wife in the world, darling!" Carrie couldn't help but blush again at her husband's compliments. And so, that evening ended with Carrie and Brick having a relaxing hot bath in the tub, then eating the leftovers from the previous party and watching a romantic movie in the living room, with the couple cuddling up to each other.

The End. 💕💕💕💕

[lilpotatjj]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a Bella Ramsey one shot? I was thinking smut, with inexperienced reader x experienced Bella. I’m thinking either reader has had a crush on Bella foreverrr and asking Bella to take their virginity.

Or if you’re open to this idea,, corruption kink? Bella X innocent reader. In which Bella helps the reader out (ifykwim) because “best friends do this all the time” 🫣

A/N: Thank u so much anon for this beautiful idea of yours. I loved it to write. I'm sure I lost my innocents a second time after writing this😳 I hope it's close to what you wanted. Never wrote a corruption kink story.

Wordcount: 1,8k

Warning: SMUT, slightly dominant Bella and inexperienced AND innocent Fem!Reader, corruption kink! (I tried), fingering, pet names, language

Uses of She/Her

♡my desire for you♡ (18+)!

When does this pain end? a day? one week? a whole year?

You thought, but you still live with the thought of never being able to show Bella how much you are in love with her.

Too afraid of ruining everything you have. Besides, Bella doesn't seem to be looking for anything steady, more like just something fun.

You don't have any desire for anyone else. You always endure the pain when Bella has spent time with someone else and let off steam. A knock on your door. "ready to beat the shit out of some assholes?"

Bella holds the game The Last Of Us in her hand and waves it in front of your nose. You two are what you might call inseparable friends.

"Come in" you take the game from her and prepare it to play. "I'm going to take a shower, I had training" she winks playfully and disappears into the bathroom. "training....yes, sure..." you mutters to yourself.

She comes out of the bathroom barely covered with a towel. Great, always provoke me....it's not like I find you hot...you thought ironically.

"Bella grabs her clothes while you gaze at her intently. You both are generally very open about all the things in your lives.

Bella notices your look and smirks. "What? Nothing you've never seen before". Bella continues to change and your face flushes red. She sits down with you and looks in your eyes. "you look like you want to jump me" She quips and you quickly grab your controller.

Now Bella looks at you rather suspiciously. "You haven't let off steam in a while, have you?" Bella just smirks and you make an embarrassed face. "like....how....without a girlfriend...."

Bella's laugh disappears as quickly as it came and now looks at you seriously. "wait....you've never had one if you've been honest with me over the years" You look at her with puppy dog eyes. "but!......then, you...never had sex? with anyone?"

"caught, yes never" You start the game as if you just wished someone health after sneezing.

"No way!" She looks at you in complete surprise. "wow....how can you stand it?" Bella takes your controller and looks at you.

You can't look her in the face because it screams for Bella to finally touch you. "Y/N....." she carefully grabs your face and looks deep into your eyes. "tell me why...." It slowly dawns on Bella but you remain silent, which only confirms Bella's suspicions.

"The one I love is unattainable...." you whisper, she still has her hands on your face

"but she is always with you..." Bella finishes my sentence and a slight blush comes over her cheeks.

"You won't believe how much I've always wanted you to touch me like this" Bella's breath quickens and you come closer until finally your lips find each other. You kiss tenderly, as if you were just trying it out, but the kiss quickly turns into a fight for dominance, which Bella has under control.

Again and again a soft sigh comes out from both of you and Bella pushes you backwards, holds both of your arms and pins you to the floor. "stop ... you make me horny". Is all you bring shakily out.

The adrenaline is already boiling over. "What if I don't want to stop?" She starts kissing your neck and licking it tenderly again and again, only to hit your sensitive spot, which almost makes you lose your mind.

You can't help but moan softly. "You taste too good....this makes me really hungry" Bella licks her lips. "You look totally exhausted, and we haven't even done anything "totally embarrassed, you avoid her greedy gaze.

"And if I want more?" you look at her longingly, completely overwhelmed by all your feelings.

"you don't know what you're asking me....." She comes so close that the tips of your noses touch. "are you sure...?" She continues to kiss you lovingly on the neck and chin.

You just nod silently and try to ignore your heart, which is beating far too fast.

"I want to hear you....." her gaze totally insistent.

"yes...I want..." You struggle to speak through her tender kissing.

"What do you want!?" she couldn't look more intimidating.

"I want you to be the one....who...take my innocence" That sentence from you was like music to her ears. She lets go of you and can't help but smile cheekily and looks at your bed. "up there then I'll show you the true joy in life" You get up, completely excited and shy and sit down on the bed.

"So you want your best friend to give you a little help...." You sit on the edge of the bed, almost helpless as Bella sits on your lap and just kisses you, more demanding, claws at your hair and holds you firmly under control that you cannot escape.

You let yourself be carried away and sometimes a moan escapes between the kisses. The air is becoming more and more tense and the kissing almost turns into a bite. You feel the pure heat and lust throughout your body.

She starts undressing you, wants to challenge you and still show you how it works. "jeezzz...Bella...that feels so exciting"

Bella pushes you onto the bed. "take off your jeans" You obey almost like a little puppy and you are rid of your jeans.

Her gaze falls on your completely soaked panties. "So wet only for me...I don't know how you could stand it all these years...."

You look at her completely submissively. "It was pure agony..." Tears are slowly running down your temples.

"your so sweet baby" totally flashed by the sight of you, she gently kisses down your cheeks to the side and licks away a tear.

"take off your panties" you stroke the inside of her thighs and stop right in front of her midsection.

The thought of being completely exposed makes your heart almost explode, the reason you hesitate. "It's ok but we can't continue if you don't undress." Bella gives you a warm smile and you pull off your underwear which lands on the floor regardless. Too uncomfortable to be so innocent you put an arm over your eyes and bite your bottom lip.

"stop hiding...you're so fucking beautiful" Bella examines every corner of your body and takes your arm away from your face just to kiss you, while you're still a little tense.

"I want to kiss you everywhere!" Bella is getting more excited.

"go ahead...please.." you speak in a shaky voice. She doesn't need to be told twice and starts kissing your neck, slowly and greedily working her way down to your chest. You sigh under her kisses, look down at her as she tenderly plays her tongue around one of your nipples. One of her hands wanders to the other breast and plays with it curiously.

You start to relax and close your eyes slightly. "May I go further down?" Bella looks at you impatiently and her British accent almost drives you insane.

"please...yes go ahead" Bella grabs one of your legs over her shoulder, clasp it and with the other hand pushes your other leg slightly to the side to get as close as possible to the Garden of Eden" all that tingling makes you loosen up and you are slowly getting more and more impatient yourself.

Without thinking twice, she starts with soft kisses right on your clit, moves a little further down to lick your folds. "You taste so good" She tries to play with her tongue on your opening a little further, testing you and you can't help but groan louder one after another. "I'm going to try and stick a finger in there....gently. you're so wet...damn" You get really nervous but try to keep your composure.

"it's ok..." you look at her in a daze. "You're sure I should do that? I won't ask again!" You just nod again. "I fucking want to hear the words!"

"please...I want to feel you....I want you to fuck me so bad" You're already begging her.

"That's a good girl...." She grins proudly and starts kissing your clit again, this time she gently inserts a finger, just a little, which makes you moan.

You're so wet that you can hardly resist, but Bella doesn't get very far. A bigger resistance stops her and she looks up at you without raising her head.

"Ready....? might hurt a bit but I'll take it slow.

"please..just start....want to feel you so bad....." you beg her impatiently. Bella gently pushes against the resistance causing you to narrow your eyes slightly in pain.

"come on...just a little bit further....do it for me darling..." with a little jerk her finger dives much deeper into you, the reason that you moan clearly. Bella doesn't move her finger for now so you can get used to the feeling.

"I want more...please Bella..." You look at her helplessly and Bella smirks contentedly. "someone tasted blood huh...?" She moves her finger very carefully and literally explores every corner of you which makes you groan and close your eyes. The feeling of what makes you a moaning mess becomes more and more beautiful and intens. Slight tingling causes Bella to insert a second finger and only brings you even more into ecstasy.

"feels...too good...more...I want so much..more" Bella kisses your neck while moving her fingers faster and further inside you.

"I want everything from you...your innocence is not enough for me! Cum for me!" Her fingers move more and more roughly which almost completely shoots you over the edge.

"your wet pussy is so tight, feels good darling hm?" You can't answer anymore and an overwhelming tingling comes over you from your midsection all the way to your fingertips, like lightning hitting you and you moaning completely out of control.

You arch your back and claw your way into the blanket with all your might. A few more movements so that you calm down a bit and finally Bella pulls her fingers out of you to lick them off afterwards.

"too delicious..." Bella smiles contentedly." your such a naughty and brave girl...all for me"

"that was amazing...you are amazing!" You are completely exhausted.

"You know that we do this more often now......?" You stare at her, dumbfounded.

"As friends?"

"No...you're mine now. And no one else is allowed to touch you!" You just swallow with the thought that Bella always has other girls. "but....you're always with other-"

"won't happen, I promise. I didn't notice you and it the whole time. I won't let you go!" You snuggle up under the covers and cuddle up together. "bella...your hand...what..." You stare at her and she smiles her freakin' cute smile.

"round 2........?"

Uuuugh....that was just uuuugh. Thx for reading. If u want more look at my masterlist or send me requests♡

[potofstewie]

Special Gift

Hey y'all! This is the last submission (5/5) for @renhoeku's Rengoku Birthday Month Collab. I changed the title from Special Day to Special Gift due to logistic issues (not rlly lmao). It was really fun writing all of these for my favorite flame guy, especially with the different genres (smut, angst, fluff)!

Things to know: Childhood fluff, mutual pining, gn!Reader (AFAB), timeskip, mention of dog fur used for toys (this takes place in the 1900s so pls don't start no mess)

W/C: <1k

“Happy Birthday, Rengoku-Kun!” Your high pitched voice squeaked out, eyes watching in absolute glee as your beloved friend took the stuffed toy dog from your hands. Kyojuro’s wide eyes gazed at the toy before looking up at you; crimson painting his cheeks, ears and forehead. A soft chuckle escaped his father’s throat as he watched the cute scene before him on the engawa, not paying attention to Senjuro teething on his sleeve. “I figured you would like it since you aren’t allowed to have a real one.” You explained, eliciting an annoyed groan from his father. 

“That’s because I’m allergic, y/n. Plus, they’re a hassle to clean up after.” Shinjuro huffed as he removed his now damp sleeve from his youngest son’s iron grip. Sharp, incandescent eyes gazed on Kyojuro’s stunned frame. “Why don’t you say thank you, Kyojuro? I’m sure y/n worked hard looking for that in the market.” He coaxed as you waited for a response with bridling anticipation. 

“I..I love it so much! Thank you, y/n! I’ll be sure to treasure it forever and ever!” Kyojuro bellowed before encasing you and his new toy in his arms, giving you a squeeze. “I think it’s button eyes are so neat and look!” Kyojuro released you from his grasp as he ran his small fingers over the fur. “It even feels like a real dog!” You giggled at your friend’s observation, excited to share new information about the gift.

“That’s because the toy maker used real dog fur! Isn’t that cool!” You shouted with glee as a look of horror dawned on Shinjuro’s face. With loud sneezes and shouts of “No! Stop, Kyojuro!”, Shinjuro spent the rest of the day running from Kyojuro and his birthday gift.

“Isn’t she precious?” Kyojuro’s hushed voice called to you in your shared room, eye trained on his daughter’s sleeping façade. Despite doing the Kankagari faithfully, your daughter only came out with the trademark golden flame hair and eyes, everything else taking after you. Her small eyes peeled open and gazed at her father’s singular one, gifting him with a soft coo. Your eyes focused on the room door that opened slowly, revealing Shinjuro and Senjuro. 

“Is she awake?” Senjuro asked quietly as his father closed the door behind him, sitting down beside your futon. Nodding, Kyojuro leaned her closer to her uncle and grandfather, small eyes taking in the new faces. Your daughter’s tongue escaped her mouth in small intervals as Senjuro looked on in awe; Shinjuro looking in nostalgia. Chuckling softly, you soaked in the adorable scene of the three generations before you. 

“You wanna hold her?” Your husband asked his father, outstretching his child to him. Shinjuro cradled her gingerly as if he was afraid to squeeze her. “Isn’t she so cute?” Kyojuro cooed, watching his father gaze at his granddaughter with such tender and love filled eyes. 

“..Yeah..” He muttered softly before lifting his gaze towards you. “You must still be tired, we can take over for a bit while you rest. I still know how to fix a bottle and such.” Shinjuro offered as Kyojuro stood up, walking towards an old chest in the corner. You nodded at your father-in-law’s suggestion. 

“I’ll do so soon.” You reassured. Senjuro looked over at his brother in curiosity as he watched him rummage through the chest. 

“Anuie, what are you looking for?” He inquired as a soft hum of glee emitted from Kyojuro. Standing at his full height, he turned towards you all, hands hidden behind his back. Settling back down next to you, Kyojuro beamed. 

“I figured this would be a nice gift for her, from her papa.” Kyojuro explained softly as his father raised a wild eyebrow. 

“Which is…what exactly?” His baritone voice asked as all eyes focused on his son. Straightening his back with pride, Kyojuro pulled out the surprise gift from behind him; evoking a soft yet happy gasp from you. 

“I never got rid of it and I even had it fixed up the other day. I really hope she’ll like it. And maybe one day I can give her a real one, or maybe even a cat!” As if in slow motion, Shinjuro’s face contorted from familial bliss to absolute horror as he watched his eldest son, the son that always meant well but messed up at times, the son that sometimes unknowingly brought his father grief, bring his old stuffed toy dog closer and closer to his grandchild and him. 

The quiet night outside where the occasional hoot from an owl quickly filled with a loud mixture of snotty sneezes, yells of “Get it away from me!” and “Kyojuro!”, and the piercing cry of a startled newborn.

BONUS

"C'mon, Ji-Chan! Let's hurry up and go to the Dango stall! I wanna get some before they run out!" Dragging along her struggling grandfather with one hand and carrying her favorite stuffed dog, a little girl no older than the age of six walked through the busy festival street. Her grandfather sneezed loudly in his kimono sleeve, trying to keep up despite his harrowing sneezes stopping him every few seconds.

"H-Hang on, kid! I- CHOO! I can't- CHOO! I can't keep up with you- CHOO!"

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ʙɪɴᴅ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴛᴏꜰꜱᴛᴇᴡɪᴇ™ 2023

Tags: @yuuuriiinaa-chaaannn @utas-faerie-gf @yeahitzally @riia0 @theshylittleelfgirl