#panini anon

[roguelov]

Hi rogue I have been possessed by these thots and so I shall share: what if when Morpheus is having sex with his s/o when it feels a bit too intense they try to squirm/crawl away? Maybe try to push against his stomach/thighs/hips to slow him down? Push his head away when it's too much? Idk why but I feel like that would just make him pin them down and go harder lmao (after making sure you're actually ok ofc) truly this won't leave my heart and soul so I'm sharing 💗

-panini

Morpheus loves toeing that line overstimulation you cannot convince me otherwise 🤭

Like you already came and he keeps teasing you letting you ride out your high but soon it becomes too much so you push in his shoulders and he immediately grabs your wrists pinning them by your head.

“I’m not done with you,” he whispers, almost like a low growl.

He buries his head into your neck, letting his lips skim over your one of your many lovebites. You squirm more and whimper.

“Can I continue,” he breathes so softly into your skin. “Or am I truly being too much?”

You sigh craning your head to the side allowing Morpheus more access to your neck. “Please, don’t stop.”

Your mind may say it’s too much, yet your body and heart craves more. It is such a carnal need and hunger, and Morpheus is the only one to satiate it.

Morpheus smirks, “Of course, I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

Then Morpheus becomes nearly feral, almost nightmarish, as he loses control. He doesn’t hold back in the slightest and you are grateful because you haven’t experienced such pleasure in your life. Perhaps, a few tears stream down your cheek and your voice becomes raw but you love every moment. You will be sore tomorrow but it was so worth it.

[dotieeee]

dawww I'm getting a lil shy now (≧∀≦)ゞ I'm glad you enjoy my thirsting of the sad wet cat man, I'll have to stop by here as well for when I'm containing my Thots

-panini 😘

PANINI ANON IS ON MY DASH OMGOMGOMG

You are welcome here anytime my dear, I have cookies and cinnamon rolls 😊😊😊 and we could have a cuppa while going insane over spicy Thots

[freak-n-ready]

Painis cupcake, what is the tastiest body part?

(@dragonslayer40)

(@precioussniper )

— YOU ALL ARE MEAT TO ME! —

[startistdoodles]

how's the progress on the Pancake Baby™ going? still cooling off?

Baby still Flat™️

[dutchimagine]

Can you put eddie in a panini press for me pls

here you go ❤️

"This is very tight, babygirl"

[kalpasio]

I was messing around in my art program when I started wondering what kind of kitchen kalpas would like to work in… which resulted in accidentally binge reading the domestic kalpas fic and I have gotten absolutely NOTHING done 😆 the brain rot is REAL

anyways, what do you think? I bet he’d be the type of person who would get pissed off by smart appliances

(P.S, I literally cannot read your works without covering my face with my hands and squealing— Keep it up)

-yo hey “anon”

imagining kalpas happy is one of my favorite pass times so I relate lol

I think you're right, there's no way he has smart appliances unless like we're talking golden courtyard and vill-v put them in but even then I think he would throw a hissy fit

I think I've always pictured him in the big industrial kitchens? partly because he runs a restaurant in that fic but also I think the steel is more his style. if he was in a mostly wood kitchen there is no way he doesn't set it on fire lmao

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Is there anyone you would want to trade for diani?

Diani already went but I will keep an eye out and if anyone reading has a dupe Diani, this anon is looking for a swapsie

[wosobot]

Why did the young one in the discord day she was in the shower after like 2 hours😭😭

She really doesn't want to give you that steph card🫠

i know and it’s so painful i need steph so bad 😭😭

the struggle is real.

[witherby]

I love the café idea! It's incredible!

Who do you think is the most well behaved customer? What weird orders would the Rogue have? Who is Punchline's favourite customer? What happens when there's a vigilante and a Rogue there at the same time?

- 🌃

Thank you! The anon that gave me the idea a few weeks ago was a genius!

I think the most well-behaved criminals are Two-Face's men! They just want their bagels and smoothies. And when Two-Face himself comes in and gets treated with the same amount of respect, he slips Flittermouse a card and simply says "you got any problems, you can call me. Uncle Harvey's gotcha."

( Multiple villains do this. Flittermouse keeps their contact info hidden in their pocket dimension so their family can't steal it and use it to hurt any of them. )

Harley pops in, sweet as pie, and makes ridiculous orders. She wants a triple-toasted sesame seed bagel with peanut butter and cinnamon cream cheese slathered all over it, and a matcha latte with fifteen pumps of vanilla, sprinkles, and whipped cream.

Flittermouse's favorite customer is Jason! He routinely stops in as the Red Hood, gets a plain black coffee and a panini, stuffs a couple hundreds in the tip jar and leaves. They know he's doing it to check up on them, but he's very unobtrusive about it. And having a crime lord stop by and be treated like a normal person encourages other rogues to do the same! He's helping the business!

The first time a vigilante and a villain stop in at the same time, Mouse has to stuff them both into their shadows, leaving only their heads out, and angrily rants at them that this is a neutral territory and there will be absolutely no fighting on the premises, regardless of who started it. They warn them not to do it again, then let them free and ask them what they wanna order.

[roguelov]

I've had a Thot. Consider if you will, Morpheus cannot be harmed or marked by mortals that we know. But can he allow people to cause him more enjoyable marks? And I have two branches of thots here:

Thot one, he specifically allows his s/o to mark him be it the more deliberately given hickeys and love bites or the more in the heat of the moment scratches on his back or other places (does he feel the sting under his shirt afterwards? I like to think so, it reminds him in the coming days till it heals 🤭)

Thot two, he doesn't verbally tell you you can, (he does allow it but doesn't tell you) rather challenges you saying if you really want your mark on him you should work for it and just letting you just maul him so he looks like he was attacked by a giant squid by the end of it.

Just some Thursday Thots I've had

-panini😘

This wonderful thot has now became a spicy Saturday thot 😂 and that taunting from him is making me feel things

You stared lovingly at Morpheus as you both sat side by side on the love couch in your shared bedroom. A fire crackled, casting a dim lighting. It was relaxing … it was stirring a feeling inside your chest.

“Yes, my love?” Morpheus glanced over at you from the corner of his eye.

“Nothing,” you hummed. “I’m just happy I’m yours.”

Morpheus smiled to himself. He turned his head, facing you. “Do not forget I am yours too.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” He asked in a tone you could not decipher. What was he playing at now?

“Then show me.”

You cocked your head. “What?”

“Make me yours, show me who I belong to.”

You blinked, stunned by his sudden proposition. Morpheus pulled you into his lap, staring up at you with mischief and delight in his eyes. He slowly tilted his head to the side, giving you access to his unmarked neck.

“That is, if you dare to do so,” Morpheus purred in a challenging tone.

A switch flipped in your brain. If that was how he wanted to play, then so be it. You twisted Morpheus, forcing him to lay across the couch. You continued to straddle his hips, but now you stared down at him. Your fingers danced at the hem of his shirt and slowly inched upward.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his, “If I dare then I am leaving a piece of me everywhere. I will be engrained into your skin, my lord.”

You said his title with a teasing tone which made Morpheus’s heart skip. “Oh?” Morpheus smirked, playing off this fluttering in his chest.

You pushed his shirt up and up. Your fingers skimmed over his unblemished skin, sending sparks of electricity through the Endless. You gently kissed his jaw, then his neck, then you jumped down to his exposed stomach. Your kisses were delicate like touches from a butterfly. It was the sweetness before a monster came out.

You murmured against his skin, “I want a few of them to be between just you and me.”

Your hands then changed trajectory. You began to buckle his pants. Pulling away, you tugged down his pants off then amused your position between his legs. You peered up at him, with a twinkle in your eyes. You kissed his thigh slowly and deliberately.

“Does my king truly want this? Because I will not be responsible for what happens?” You smirked.

“Your king is only wondering why you are hesitating so much,” Morpheus matched your smirk. “Perhaps you do not have the power to do so.”

“I do believe my king is playing with fire.”

“Then burn me, my love.”

“With pleasure.”

[biancadoes1]

Some of these people need to choke on that panini they’re so obsessed with. They’re just gaslighting themselves by the hour. If my man “hard launches” me via IG stories and a link to TikTok then he’s the most disrespectful man ever.

LUKE 👏🏻 NEWTON 👏🏻 IS 👏🏻 NOT👏🏻 THAT 👏🏻GUY👏🏻

SCREAM THIS FROM THE ROOFTOPS ANON!!!

[lifeofpriya]

jannik being protective of reader when they get caught between his fans or paparazzi please :)

you got it, anon!!! <3

A Shield of Love

wc: 3.2k

You're walking down the crowded streets of Milan, the sun beating down on the pavement, making the air thick with the scent of freshly baked bread and car exhaust. You're wearing your favorite oversized sunglasses, a hat pulled low over your forehead, trying to blend in with the bustling crowd. The anonymity is comforting, a stark contrast to the life you share with Jannik. His protective nature is endearing, but sometimes you crave a moment of solitude, a chance to breathe without the shadow of his fame following you.

As you navigate the cobblestone alleys, you feel a gentle hand on your elbow. You turn to find Jannik's warm smile, the one that melts your heart and makes you feel like the only person in the world. "I thought I'd lost you," he says, his voice carrying a hint of concern. His eyes scan the area as if searching for threats. He's dressed casually in a T-shirt and shorts, but even in his laid-back attire, he's unmistakable to the eager fans that start to swarm.

Their whispers grow into a murmur, phones are whipped out, and suddenly, you're at the center of a flashbulb frenzy. Jannik's grip tightens around your arm, and he steers you into a nearby café, his tall frame shielding you from the paparazzi's prying lenses. The coolness of the café's interior is a welcome relief from the stifling heat outside. The smell of espresso fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of rain-dampened earth from the potted plants that line the walls.

You slide into a booth at the back, the plush velvet upholstery enveloping you as you try to regain your composure. Jannik orders for both of you in rapid Italian, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with an apology that you know is not his to give. The waiter nods discreetly, understanding the unspoken request for privacy. You sip your cool drink, feeling the bubbles tickle your nose as you watch Jannik interact with the fans outside the café window. He's so graceful, so kind, signing autographs and taking selfies with an ease that belies his young age.

The whispers and camera clicks slowly die down as the crowd disperses, and Jannik returns to the table, his forehead beaded with sweat from the brief encounter. He takes a seat opposite you, his knee brushing against yours under the table. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice low and sincere. "I know you hate this."

You give him a small smile, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "It's okay," you reply, trying to reassure him. "It's part of the deal." But deep down, you feel a twinge of sadness. You've always been the private type, content with quiet nights in rather than the glitz and glamour of the tennis world. Yet, here you are, navigating the treacherous waters of fame by his side.

Jannik's thumb traces circles on the back of your hand as he leans in closer. "I know it's not easy," he says, his eyes searching yours. "But I'm here for you. I'll always protect you." His words are a balm to your soul, and you find yourself nodding, a silent promise passing between you. You've had this conversation before, but it never gets old. His dedication to keeping you safe is one of the reasons you fell for him.

As you sit there, the hum of the café becomes a comforting backdrop to your conversation. The clinking of silverware, the soft murmur of Italian, and the occasional laughter all serve to remind you that there's more to life than the chaos outside. You lean in and whisper, "Thank you," feeling the weight of his protective gaze as he nods solemnly.

The waiter brings over a plate of warm, crispy paninis and a small dish of olives. Jannik's eyes light up at the sight of food, and for a moment, you're reminded of how much he loves simple, authentic Italian cuisine. You both dig in, savoring the comforting warmth of the bread filled with melted cheese. The tension of the encounter outside seems to melt away with every bite.

You talk about your day, about the bookstore you visited and the old woman who recommended a local author. Jannik listens intently, his focus solely on you, making you feel like the most important person in the world. His laughter fills the small space, and the candlelight flickers across his chiseled features, casting shadows that make him look mysterious and alluring.

As you share a dessert, a rich and decadent tiramisu, Jannik's hand reaches for yours again, his thumb tracing the delicate lines of your palm. His touch is gentle, yet firm, a silent reassurance that no matter what the world throws at you, he'll be there. You look down at your intertwined fingers and feel a sense of peace wash over you. The outside world, with its relentless paparazzi and screaming fans, feels a million miles away.

The café's bell jingles as the door opens, and you both tense up, expecting another round of chaos. But instead, it's just a young couple with a stroller, looking for a quiet spot to enjoy their afternoon. The mother's eyes widen when she recognizes Jannik, but she quickly averts her gaze, giving you both a respectful nod before taking a seat at the other end of the café. You breathe a sigh of relief, and Jannik's shoulders visibly relax.

He takes a bite of the tiramisu, his eyes closing in pleasure as the flavors dance on his tongue. "Mmm, this is heavenly," he says, his voice a contented murmur. You laugh softly, watching him savor the dessert, and can't help but feel a swell of affection for this man who finds joy in the simplest things. It's moments like these that remind you why you're willing to share his life in the spotlight.

As you continue to talk, the light outside the window begins to change, casting a warm glow across the café. The rain that had been threatening all afternoon finally starts to fall, creating a rhythmic symphony against the glass. The sound is soothing, a gentle reminder of the world continuing outside your cozy sanctuary.

Jannik glances at his watch, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "We should head back," he says, his voice a soft rumble that resonates in your chest. "I have an interview in an hour." You nod, knowing the drill. Your quiet time together is precious, but it's always cut short by his demanding schedule.

As you stand to leave, Jannik wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you through the now-deserted café. The rain has picked up, the droplets racing each other down the windowpanes in a blur of liquid silver. He pulls you closer under his umbrella, the warmth of his body seeping into yours, offering shelter from the cool embrace of the rain.

The stroll back to the hotel is a dance of dodging puddles and avoiding the curious glances of passersby. The streets are slick with rain, reflecting the soft glow of the streetlights above. The sound of your footsteps echoes through the narrow alleyways, mingling with the distant rumble of thunder. Jannik's hand is a constant presence in yours, grounding you in the present as you navigate the labyrinth of cobblestone.

When you finally arrive at the hotel, the doorman greets you with a knowing smile, holding the door open with a flourish. You've learned to appreciate these small acts of kindness, the silent allies who understand the need for discretion. Inside, the lobby is a cocoon of warmth and luxury, the scent of leather and fresh flowers enveloping you as you shake off the rain.

Jannik's hand remains in yours as you ride the elevator to your suite, the quiet hum of the machinery punctuated by the occasional ding of the passing floors. The moment the doors slide open, he pulls you in for a kiss, deep and passionate, as if to make up for the moments of stolen glances and whispered conversations earlier. His arms are strong around you, and you feel safe, if only for a brief moment.

When you enter the suite, the warmth from the heated floors seeps through your soaked shoes, and the plush carpet feels like a soft embrace for your tired feet. Jannik shrugs off his jacket, hanging it on the back of a chair, and you follow suit, peeling off your wet layers. He grabs a towel from the bathroom, gently dabbing at the rainwater on your face and neck, his touch tender and careful.

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching him move around the room with an ease that comes from years of living out of suitcases. He's so focused on getting you comfortable that he doesn't notice your gaze lingering on the muscles rippling beneath his damp shirt. His dedication to you is as palpable as the electricity that arcs between you when your eyes meet.

As he helps you out of your wet shoes, his hand brushes against your ankle, sending a shiver up your spine. You realize how much you've missed this intimacy, the quiet moments that are so quickly overshadowed by the roar of the crowds and the constant need for vigilance. You lean into him, your cheek pressing against his warm chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Jannik's hand rests on the small of your back, his fingers tracing lazy circles as he whispers, "I'll be quick. Don't go anywhere." He grabs his phone from the nightstand and heads into the bathroom to prepare for his interview. You hear the faint sound of the shower running, the patter of water against the marble tiles.

Alone for a brief moment, you take in the suite. The king-sized bed with its crisp, white linens calls to you, the plush pillows whispering sweet nothings of a nap. But you know that rest will have to wait. Instead, you wander over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, the rain outside casting a hypnotic pattern on the glass. The cityscape of Milan is a blur of lights and life, a stark contrast to the serenity of your temporary retreat.

Jannik emerges from the bathroom, his ginger hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. He's changed into a fresh shirt and slacks, his skin glowing from the warm shower. He catches you staring and offers a shy smile, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Mind if I join you?" Jannik asks, approaching the windows with a tentative step. You nod, your eyes never leaving the rain-soaked view. He settles in beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Together, you watch the droplets race each other down the pane, the world outside a wet canvas of colors and shapes.

The rain is a soothing serenade, a stark contrast to the tumultuous dance of your emotions. You lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His heartbeat is a steady rhythm, a comforting reminder of the real world beyond the glitz and glamour of his tennis career.

"You know," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, "I've always loved the rain."

Jannik nods, his eyes never leaving the hypnotic pattern on the window. "It's peaceful, isn't it?" His voice is a gentle rumble, a soothing bass line to the symphony of water outside.

You turn to face him, looking up into his emerald eyes. "It reminds me of home," you admit, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "The sound of rain on the roof was the only thing that could drown out my thoughts."

Jannik's gaze softens, and he pulls you closer, kissing the top of your head. "I wish I could give you more of this," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. "More quiet moments, just for us."

You lean into his embrace, feeling the strength of his arms around you. "I know," you reply, your voice muffled by his shirt. "But these moments are what make it all worth it."

Jannik sighs, his breath warm against your forehead. "I just hate that I can't protect you from all of it," he says, his voice tight with frustration. "But I'll do everything I can to make sure you're happy."

You pull back slightly, looking up at him. "You do enough," you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. "More than enough." Your thumb brushes against his cheek, and you can't help but smile at the way his eyes light up at your touch. It's moments like these that make you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

The rain starts to let up, the droplets slowing to a gentle patter as the storm gives way to a soft drizzle. Jannik's hand moves from your shoulder to the nape of your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that's filled with all the things he can't put into words. You melt into it, your hands finding their way to his waist, pulling him closer.

When you break apart, you're both breathless, your eyes searching each other's for reassurance. Jannik rests his forehead against yours, his eyes a mix of green and gold in the dim light. "I'll always be here for you," he whispers, his breath hot and sweet. You nod, feeling the truth of his words resonate deep within you.

With a sigh, he pulls away, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I really have to go," he says, regret etched on his features. "But I promise to make it up to you tonight." You manage a smile, knowing that his commitments are as much a part of your life as his love for you.

Jannik heads out, leaving you in the quiet embrace of the suite. You take a deep breath, savoring the solitude before it's shattered by the whirlwind of his return. You decide to make the most of the time alone, drawing a bath in the marble tub. The scent of lavender fills the air as the water steams, the bubbles rising to the surface like a promise of peace.

As you slip into the warmth, the tension of the day begins to unravel from your muscles. The rain outside taps a gentle rhythm on the window, and you close your eyes, letting the serenity of the moment wash over you. The warmth of the water and the quiet whispers of the city outside lull you into a light doze, your thoughts drifting to the first time you met Jannik.

It was at a charity event, his kindness and sincerity shining through the sea of faces that had all blurred together. He'd been so genuine, so focused on you, that you hadn't even realized who he was until later. The way he'd made you laugh, his passion for his sport and his gentle touch had captured your heart before you knew it was in danger of being claimed.

You lay there, the water cooling around you, as you remembered the early days of your relationship. The secret smiles, the stolen kisses, the way he'd look at you when he thought no one was watching. It was a time when you could still walk hand in hand without worrying about being mobbed by fans or photographed by the paparazzi. You sigh, missing the simplicity of those days.

But as you lay there, the water growing cold, you knew that those moments were a part of a past that no longer existed. You had chosen this life with Jannik, and with it came the glamour and the chaos. You knew you had to adapt, to find joy in the moments of peace that you could steal together amidst the storm of his career.

With a sigh, you climb out of the tub, wrapping yourself in a soft, plush towel. The rain has stopped, leaving the city glistening like a jewel in the aftermath. You take a moment to appreciate the quiet, the only sound the distant wail of a siren and the occasional drip from the rain-soaked trees outside.

The hotel room feels both comforting and oppressive, a reminder of the life you've chosen. You wander over to the closet, selecting a cozy sweater and a pair of sweatpants. As you get dressed, you can't help but wonder what your life would be like if you hadn't met Jannik, if you weren't the partner of a rising tennis star. Would you still be the same person, craving the quiet moments, the simplicity of anonymity?

With a shake of your head, you push the thoughts aside. You love Jannik, and you wouldn't trade the moments you've shared for anything. You just wish you could enjoy them without the constant fear of being discovered. You make your way to the living area, curling up on the plush sofa with a book you'd picked up at the bookstore earlier.

As you lose yourself in the pages, the door to the suite opens, and the energy shifts. Jannik's footsteps are unmistakable, a steady rhythm that fills you with a sense of comfort. He strides into the room, his eyes searching for you. When he finds you, his smile is broad, his cheeks flushed from the cool air outside.

"Hey," he says, dropping his bag by the door. "I'm back."

You look up from your book, your heart fluttering at the sight of him. "How was the interview?"

"It was fine," Jannik says, his voice tinged with weariness. "Just the usual questions." He crosses the room, his eyes never leaving yours, and sits down next to you on the couch. "How was your afternoon?"

You shrug, setting your book aside. "Quiet. I missed you."

Jannik's smile softens, and he pulls you closer, his hand resting on your knee. "I missed you too." He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry I had to leave."

You snuggle into his side, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "It's okay," you murmur. "I know you had to go."

Jannik sighs, his eyes scanning the room before settling back on you. "I hate leaving you alone," he says, his voice filled with a hint of frustration. "But I promise, tonight we'll make up for it."

You smile up at him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "What do you have in mind?"

Jannik's eyes twinkle with mischief. "How does a private rooftop dinner sound?"

Your heart skips a beat. "Seriously?"

Jannik nods, his smile growing. "I pulled some strings. The chef is preparing something special just for us."

Excitement bubbles up in your chest. A private dinner on the rooftop of a luxurious Milan hotel is the kind of romantic escape you've been craving. "That sounds amazing," you say, unable to hide the enthusiasm in your voice.

Jannik's smile widens, his eyes lighting up with joy at your reaction. "I wanted to do something special," he says, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. "Just us, no cameras, no fans."

You bite your lip, trying to contain your excitement. "It's perfect," you murmur, leaning into his touch. The promise of a private dinner under the stars is like a balm to your soul, a chance to reclaim a piece of the life you once knew.

Jannik's hand slides up your arm, sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to feel special," he says, his voice a warm caress. "To remember that no matter what the world throws at us, we have each other."

You nod, your eyes misting with gratitude. "I do remember," you whisper, leaning into his touch. "Every single day."

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

ooh could u do a piece with a sick!sister and caretaker!brother? i’m a part of a niche fandom that almost NOBODY knows and i’m too shy to ask them to write a sickfic for me so i did my essentially copy paste OCs instead lol

Hi Anon! I'm so sorry it took so long to get back to you. I can write this for you, but don't be shy! What's the fandom? You'd be surprised what people are into on here!

“I’m home!” Caretaker called.

No answer.

“Panini-Head, I said I’m home!”

That was when he heard a faint, nearly imperceptible groan from the living room. Caretaker set his bag down and approached the couch, where a mound of blankets lay shivering.

“Hey, are you good?”

Whumpee poked her head out of the mass of fabric. Her flushed face was coated with a sheen of sweat, and her glassy eyes filled with tears. A tissue was wadded up in one side of her nose, and several more of them lay scattered about the floor.

“What do you think?” Whumpee asked, her voice raspy and nasal.

“Yikes,” Caretaker said, “okay, come on, let’s get you into bed.”

Whumpee dove back into the blanket burrito.

“No,” came her muffled response, “it hurts to move.”

“Yeah, I’d assume so, but you’ll feel better once you have a hot shower and lay down in your nice, soft bed.”

The blankets ruffled, a sign that Whumpee was shaking her head.

“Whumpee, now.”

Whumpee slowly shuffled out of her cocoon, looking up at Caretaker pitifully.

“Why did you use the mean voice?”

Caretaker didn’t answer, he just helped Whumpee up and into the bathroom. He turned the shower on and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t trip in there,” he called.

Whumpee only sniffled in response. A few moments later, Caretaker heard her sigh of relief.

After an eternity, the water turned off, and Whumpee stumbled out, dressed in a towel. Caretaker escorted her to her room, worried she might fall over any second. He waited outside while she got dressed in the pajamas he had left out for her.

“Is it safe yet?” he asked.

“…yeah.”

He opened the door and came in. Whumpee was struggling to get under the blankets. He helped her into bed and tucked her in.

“Let’s see what we’re working with here,” he said.

He grabbed a thermometer from the nightstand and stuck it in her mouth. After a while, too long of a while, it beeped.

“Ew,” Caretaker stated.

Whumpee tried sitting up to read the number.

“What’s it say?” she asked.

He pushed her back down.

“It says you’re a panini-head,” Caretaker said, pocketing the thermometer, “I’m gonna make you some soup. Don’t leave the bed or I’ll sell your stuffed animals.”

Caretaker went down to the kitchen, his mind reeling. One hundred-and two-degrees Fahrenheit. Not good at all. Any higher and she was due for a hospital visit. Whumpee hated hospitals. Ever since Mom had…

He shook his head. No time to dive into old memories. There was a little sister to take care of.

…

Caretaker entered the bedroom with a tray of soup and crackers, along with water and fever reducers. Whumpee had fallen asleep, and as much as he wanted to let her rest, she needed to eat.

He set the tray down on the nightstand, then rubbed her shoulder.

“Hey, wake up,” he said gently.

Whumpee groaned, her eyes fluttering open.

“Wanna sleep,” she whined.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Caretaker said dismissively, “you can after you eat. Sit up.”

Caretaker slid a hand behind her back while his other hand adjusted the pillows. He sat her up against them then put the tray in her lap. He handed her the fever reducers and the water. Thankfully, Whumpee took them without a fuss.

“Soup next,” he said.

Whumpee took a spoonful of soup then grimaced as she swallowed.

“Hurts,” she said.

“I know,” Caretaker said, “but you gotta eat it.”

Caretaker stayed until the bowl was at least half-eaten. He supposed that would have to do for now. He took the tray up and helped Whumpee lay back down. He turned to leave, but she grabbed his sleeve with a dangerously weak grip.

“Don’t leave,” she pleaded.

Caretaker looked down at her, trying to hide his worry.

“I’m just gonna drop this off in the kitchen and then I’ll come right back,” he said.

Caretaker left, setting the dishes in the sink, then practically sped back into the bedroom.

“See?” Caretaker said, “I’m right here.”

He sat down on the bed, and Whumpee visibly relaxed. He waited until she drifted back off, then got up to pack a hospital bag. Something told him he would need it.

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[lallyloo]

I'm seeing some doubters among the fandom going all anti Rhett saying that he doesn't genuinely love Link and I'm like y'all are blind.

So what's your favorite "Rhett is so in love" RandL moments to refute their claims?

WHO ANON. WHO IS SAYING RHETT DOESN'T LOVE LINK.

But no, honestly, even platonically Rhett loves him so much.

There's the river story.. [x]

Listening to the recording of child Link's giggles.. [x]

Including Link on his mind map.. [x]

Realizing he'd die for him.. [x]

Looking like he's proposing while earnestly trying to renew their blood oath.. [x]

Being so happy to be back in the studio together after quarantine and making a cookie dough birthday panini for Link.. [x]

Making sure Link is okay during the charity livestream ear piercing...

Helping him when he broke his collarbone (and being so frustrated about not being able to touch his shoulder when he's excited about something)

Protecting him all the time [x/x/x/x]

And thinking everything he does is just the coolest most fascinating thing [x]

[ant1quar1an]

"Sir we dont sell burgers here"

"wHat dO yOU mEAN YOu dOnT sEll-"

"We sell- *wheezing* we sell paninis and breakfast sandwiches!"

"yOu thINK i knoW wHAT a PaNINi is!?"

*hysterical laughter*

"JUSt GiVE mE a burgER exTrA chEESe!"

-3 am thoughts anon, not stopping my spam yet😈

MY BURGERS

collapses and sobs on the floor /j

HOW DARE THEY !!

Collapses over a chair

[tremendousmothergoat]

roll d20

try not to get panini pressed between the inebriated Toriel and Tori

The two Toriels snug each other, lips pressed together, paws roaming over each other's backs.. Sometimes a tush was pinched, getting a giggle from the pinched one. Sometimes one got a little aggressive with it and leaned in more, which would get the other to respond in kind..

And an anon's arm was sticking out from in between their bellies. Uh oh. Someone's gettin' smushed!

(Roll: 8)