#Kinks in the System

[pressrealz]

Mega-Jolt: The Costs and Logistics of Plugging in EVs Are About to Become Supercharged

Looks like this wasn't thought all the way through.... Go figure.

By John Murawski November 27, 2023 Paul Sladen, Wikimedia Commons U.S. Energy Secretary Jennifer Granholm gave Americans an unintended glimpse of the future during her road trip this summer touting the wonders of electric vehicles. Her public relations misadventure in Georgia involved one of her staff in a gasoline-powered vehicle blocking off a coveted charger in advance of her arrival,…

[tamelee]

(5-7)🫶

[charlie-thewitch]

JiuYuan plot bunny

Shen Yuan transmigrates/reincarnates waay before the plot even begins, as a somewhat rich second or third son of a merchant family (cliché or clasic background? You decide) not specially sick nor a priority for his family as he's not likely to inherit almost anything he is send to cultivate to a small sect. Because who else will want their unremarkable son?

Turns out ranting about poetry in the street with a vendor is a sure way to make someone important want their unremarkable son.

Enter the current Lord of Qing Jing who saw a gremlin with taste and opinions and immediately wanted him. Also the immediate moment when Shen Yuan finds out where exactly he was reborn in (pray for him). So Shen Yuan gets to join directly into QJP if he passes the other test and well, the story wont go on if he doesn't so let's say he does.

His dumbass tries to make everyone believe he's lazy to avoid work like he did back home but Aha! Shizun is on his bs so in no time he's made head disciple. Natural teacher, excellent memory and talented swordsman (This nerd got too excited by swords and practiced so much he now is the best of his generation and he desperately wants you to know he didn't want for this to happen) it's like he was made to lead QJP!

Side note: LQG will be made head disciple of BZP in a year or so, that's why SY is the generation's best, currently.

Here comes the boy! Absolutely traumatized feral kitten Shen Jiu gets into CQM and QJP out of season and with his general attitude immediately gets enemies everywhere. Not problem! Da-Shixiong will show you around and- Oh? You don't want Da-Shixiong to speak with you? Alright. Just remember to get to dinner and sleep well, goodnight!

And just like that you get an oblivious Shen Yuan respecting a hesitantly curious Shen Jiu who, in turn, decides that the best thing to do with this interest is to find blackmail on SY and take his place as head disciple.

Cue shenanigans and hijinks with stalker SJ and unsuspecting SY. And them getting closer by basically respecting SJ's space and time and being a decent human?! What?!

So like bonding with a cat. Slow, respectfully and with lots and lots of treats. Once Shen Yuan figured out Shen Jiu's weakness is just sweets it's all over. Now hes SJ's shixiong and no one else's. No, shut up A-Yuan, they are not worth our time.

Does he trust SY unconditionally? He's getting there. Nighthunts and being saved like a damsel in distress once in a while helps, even if he gets hissy and pretends to not like it. More so when SY immediately turns to him for both counsel on investigations and to make sure he's safe while in the hunts. Also Shixiong spends almost all his time helping him in fixing his cultivation and teaching him the arts, even when no one else would give a shit, so he gets extra points by being a good boy to his A-Jiu.

Shen Yuan? He thinks he's being a good bro and helping SJ fix whatever made him such an ass in PIDW. He doesn't know what happened before SJ went to CQM nor his past as a slave, only thought he looked like a feral cat and acted accordingly. And yes, calling him A-Jiu is absolutely necessary to that recovery.

In the middle of this SY tries to make contact with TLJ to help him either run away with SXY or take out the OPM so the tragedy doesn't happend. But shit hits the fan and SY gets outed as a demon sympathizer when the sealing under a mountain still happens but he tries to reason with the CQM's sect leader that the demon was innocent.

No one can prove that he was a traitor but under the added presure of public sentiment he's punished severely. Sect leader gives him two choices; He either leaves and retrieves a mega ultra rare mcguffin that'll take him 20 years to get or gets banished immediately and losses any standing he has with the sect.

In simple terms: Prove your loyalty with this very difficult quest or leave.

As a pseudo-compromise sect leader promised no one will take his place if he leaves for the quest nor will they banish SJ for being so close to a posible traitor. SY, naturally, accepts the quest with all the spite and grief of someone who failed his true quest of saving his best friend and the world too he supposes.

But QJP cannot be without a Head disciple nor a Peak Lord! Because plot twist, the lords are preparing to ascend in the next like 5 years. Sect leader knew this, and this is his way to force QJ's peak lord to appoint a different head disciple when SY is away anyways. If that happens SY will lose everything anyways, even if he comes back.

So the strategists get together and make a plan.

Shen Yuan will leave in his quest but before that he'll marry someone trusted that can be acting peak lord in his absence but will not usurp his place. Doble plot twist! That person is Shen Jiu because just as SJ got mellower with SY's influence so did SY get more paranoid. He only trust his dear shidi and no one else but oh how could he force his shidi into- Oh? You'll do it? Why do i have to be the wif-

And they marry in semi secret, taking a small moment for SJ to make him doble promise to come back for him and to give his own doble promise to wait for his return. SJ doesn't like this, not one bit. But this time he's safe, in a position of power and tentatively ready to trust again. He'd rather have his husband with him at least for their wedding night but oh well, they don't get that. They make arrangements for SY to send letters to the WRP so SJ can know how he's doing even if he can't receive any in exchange. It'll be a lonely 20 years.

Shen Yuan leaves and Shen Jiu gets appointed acting head disciple and then acting peak lord. With his silks and his husband's name as a shield (Qingqiu is SY's, but he can use it because they married) he rules QJP much more detached than in PIDW, almost completely ignoring the disciples. This is his A-Yuan's work after all and if he wants it done he better hurry and come do it himself. They've always joked that SY would teach while SJ would govern the peak, even before ever discussing marriage (It didn't matter that A-Yuan didn't know they would eventually get married. They would have regardless)

And Yue Qingyuan you didn't ask? He's in the background wanting to talk to Xiao-Jiu constantly but SJ doesn't need him nor want him. SY's therapy helped him let go if not forgive YQY, he's at the point where he can just ignore him. YQY on the other hand is guiltily ecstatic SY is out of the picture and Xiao-Jiu can be peak lord and rule at his side. Just like he wanted!

Like that 15 years pass. SJ still gets a reputation of going to brothels even if its to read his hubby's letters and sleep. And at this point all other peak lords either forgot he's technically just acting peak lord or never knew there was another Shen-Shixiong who should be peak lord instead.

At this point I'm not sure how to proceed. It'll have to be either:

a) Shen Yuan comes back during the demon invasion or

b) He comes when they are having a peak lord meeting for conveniences sake

Let's do invasion for dramatic purposes.

So you have a supremely pissed off SJ dealing with the demons and watching as the runt of his peak desperately tries to beat his opponent while making a mockery out of their QJP fighting style (LBH is actually doing pretty good, SJ is just Like That™) when suddenly a sword only he recognizes flies faster than a bullet to stop the defeated demon from attacking the little beast and the whole place falls into silence. SJ can hear his pulse in his ears, he almost can't breathe.

The disciples are looking at him for instructions but he can't think of anything as the most beautiful face he has ever seen slowly walks out of the trees into the improvised arena. His hair is finally long now, but not even close to well cared for. His clothes dusty and well worn but not threadbare nor stained with ink like it usually was in their disciple days. His A-Yuan is glorious as he makes the demons run like the pathetic bugs they are.

LQG has come too but there's not more fighting to be had, only a couple reunited at last. SJ sends decorum through the window and yanks his A-Yuan into a long awaited kiss in front of basically every disciple and an enraged and flustered LQG (Man is having the weirdest awakening)

SY is surprised at first but quickly reciprocates, finally at peace with his feelings. Because guess what, 15 years of pinning + letters that slowly become romantic without the fear of retribution will do just fine for him to admit he fell in love with his husband at some point. He was scared shitless of SJ reaction to him coming back and it was only that promise what made him go home regardless. A-Jiu can hate him, but he is NOT breaking that promise. He even made it 5 years earlier, isn't he such a good husband?

Later in the emergency meating LQG is still screaming at them for shameless and inmoral and how could this be the first thing Shen Yuan does when he comes back when they could've just spared

And everyone else (minus YQY, SQH and the beast peak lord) are just like What? Who's this? And SY looks at YQY disapprovingly (He knows YQY covets his wife and purposely didn't tell them) and explains he's the QJ peak lord and SJ as his husband has been ruling QJ in his stead for the past 15 years. And yes, that's why SJ is sitting in his lap.

When the whole story comes out everyone is more surprised to know they are married than the fact SY made the last sect leader so angry he was basically given a suicide mission (Not even YQY knew that) but don't worry! He has absolutely no inclination of taking his A-Jiu's position away. He'd rather teach his little disciples and let his wife to berate their martial siblings as is his right (Someone said they'll be happy having SY instead of SJ in meetings from now on and He Did Not Like That) So they'll share the name Qingqiu as QJ has two peak lords from now on.

Now if they'll excuse them they have a wedding night to finally enjoy.

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Just saw an svsss fic tagged “kiss kiss fall in love” and now I can’t stop thinking of an svsss ouran high au where Luo Binghe put together a host club made of Yue Qingyuan, Liu Qingge, Mobei-Jun, Shang Qinghua, Tianlang-jun, Zhuzhi-lang, and honor student, Shen Yuan (who’s older brother, Shen Jiu, might murder the lot of them), who stumbled into music room 3 one day and is now their errand boy that Luo Binghe is obsessed with.

[meltedheartz]

yan!paul atreides is such a freak :(

you’re one of the emperor’s kids, introduced as his daughter despite insisting you’re a boy. you’re so pretty in his eyes :((

he loves you sm, presses kisses on your face, hands in yours, all gentle and adoring :(((

but you know for a fact there’s an underlying, deep obsession that he has with you under all that tenderness.

paul follows you like a lost puppy — constantly lingering around like he’s your second shadow

is he apologetic? not at all! he needs to make sure you’re safe at all times!! even when he’s out and about, too busy to watch you himself

‘course, the aloof idiot gives you all sorts of gifts. he buys you flowers, clothes, food, and anything you’re even remotely interested in, despite you not needing all of it :(

how else are you gonna end up dependent on him and solely him! he has to prove he can properly take care of you, duh.

not to mention how whenever he’s near you, he’s callin’ you dumb things. his pretty boy, his star, his fucking everything.

it should be unsettling — but you’ve been around him long enough to be used to it! it’s all good!!

paul also loves to visit you. a lot. stays for a few days, talks with you, does any and everything he can possibly do with you.

nd when the weirdo seeks to become the emperor? shit, best believe you’re the best candidate for that.

he does everything in his power to make it happen. and fuck, does he make it a reality, forces fate, changes his and your path when he’s wed to you :(

paul’s starin’ at you like you’re the only person in the room, clinging to you like he wants to never let go.

and paul really, really doesn’t wanna let go of you. not ever.

so when he ends up alone with you? no one else around, everyone gone home or elsewhere?

he immediately falls to his knees and takes off all your attire, pressing kisses on your tummy, all the down to your cunt.

the entire time, he’s drooling all over you, lickin’ and sucking while praising you.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

“all mine now, yeah? yeahhh, that’s it.”

“you gotta loosen up if you want me to put a baby in you, y’know. can you do that for me?”

he makes you cum all over his fingers, knuckle deep inside of your cunny with hearts in his eyes.

it’s the way he talks to you — praising you all nice nd sweetly despite the filthy words he’s saying :(

when he’s done, paul licks his fingers and stands up. he came in his pants twice just from tasting you, how many times is he gonna cum when he’s inside?

the thought has you shuddering.

[viviaj]

a man who just wants you and needs you and would do anything for you (gone sexual)

// this is a self-insert.. it can be abt anyone u want ;3 !! but if u need some help: atsumu, kaeya, zoro, wriothesely, shoyo.. literally anyone that’s funny but also ;) KUROO

he’s been making you laugh all night. lighthearted conversation not slowing down, and countless attempts at getting you to roll your eyes at him. he looks good, too, like, casual good. black sweats and freshly washed hair.

he’s sitting on your bed, feet flat on the floor looking up at you as you go about your business. he’s a strange guy, he says something unfunny, yet its hard to not laugh. its cringey and genuinely stupid, yet comforting all the same.

you’ve been parading some new clothes on for yourself, styling pieces for him to nod and approve at. the way you move around is everything to him. he could just watch you, permanently. he wouldn’t need his phone, or a book or a computer. just you.

and that has him hard in his pants. just watching you do your thing, your glow from previously being out, with friends and at the shops— it didn’t matter.

“hey,”

“yeah?” you cheerily turn toward him, eager to keep conversation alive.

“come here,” his smile has you complicit, walking over to him, “wanna sit?”

you look down.

eyes fluttering between how hard he is and his eyes— at how fast this all changed. he’s so pretty and you just want to nod and nod and nod to him, that you’d do anything with him.

“yes, i do. yeah, okay. i don’t wanna hurt you, though, so—”

“here,” he interrupts you, guiding your hips down, “yeah, just like that,” the genuine smile on his face gives you courage.

neither of you dare to move once you’re fully sat, no one shifting or grinding, just resting on each other.

“do you feel what you do to me?” he almost laughs in exasperation. everything he says is so genuine, “i’m hard just thinking about you.” the honesty hurts.

the man underneath you is everything. he’s so sincere now that he’s not trying to make you laugh, not trying to make you roll your eyes at the stupid things he says. he doesn’t have to work for your attention.

“can i move?” you whisper, his cock so painfully there. your eyes don’t move from his.

“yeah, just— shit,” he hisses, “fuck. slowly. just rock back and forth a little.”

and it’s so easy. it’s so easy and he’s looking right at you and he’s telling you how good it feels, and god, don’t you know how long he’s wanted this for?

“is this okay? i mean, does it feel good? am i doing—”

“perfect,” he reaches a hand up to the back of your head, “it’s perfect.” his large hand pulls your head down to his, face to face with what you’re doing, who you’re doing.

he looks down at your lips, breaking the unbreakable eye contact you’d had so far, and presses his lips against yours. your hips stutter here and there, unused to the motion, but desperate to keep it there.

“let me take care of you.”

you nod.

his hands are polite on your hips, firm in how he handles you. he slides himself to the head of the bed, patting right between his open legs.

“saved you a spot,” he grins. and you remember this is the same man from an hour ago. you roll your eyes, yet sit right there, your back pressed to his chest, “this okay?” he says with his hands so close to your waistband. you nod again.

“you’re very compliant with me.” he says, and there’s nothing— no words, that could justify that. because he’s right, “i almost expected you to laugh at me more.” his slender fingers dip beneath your clothes, and he’s kind of an asshole, but he’s touching you so nicely.

“oh,” you grab onto his wrist, “feels good,” he nods against your skin.

his other hand just wants to feel you. the outside of your neck, the crease in your elbow. the curve of your ear, the shape of your breasts.

it’s obsessive.

your head drops onto his shoulder, your eyes turning to meet his and you realise he’s been looking at you this whole time. you avert your eyes, a slight red brushing your cheeks.

he’s still looking at you with a slight smile on his face. “you shy?”

“a little,” you reply for integrity’s sake.

he absolutely beams.

all the while you can feel him right against your back. he’s right there. just playing with you, hooked on every whimper and moan and twitch he can get from you.

“i’ve been waiting so long for you, you have no idea.” his sincerity is overwhelming and so are his fingers.

you nod. because that’s all you can do. “another, another. please.” you pant towards him.

“another what? tell me what you want.” he’s smiling, you can feel it.

“finger. please. can i, please?” oh, he melts. your voice softening for him and your body tense against his cock, he feels like he’s going to cum in his pants. he might.

“of course. whatever you want.” his free hand glides against your jaw, fingers grazing the side of your neck. he needs to kiss it, and bite it and leave something there. maybe as proof that this is real, that he has you how he wants you. feeling good.

so he does, he laps at your neck slowly. his fingers don’t stop fingering you, but he raises his thumb to rub at you. and that has you really going. twitching back into him, jumpy moans and sweet noises coming from you, uncontrollably it seems. your hand goes to cover your mouth.

“don’t ruin a good thing, baby. move your hand. let me hear you.”

“it’s embarrassing,” you stutter out.

he grins again, teeth grazing your neck. “i know. it’s okay.”

and it’s when you cum, with hips bucking and hand gripped onto his wrist, that he doesn’t stop.

tears well up in your eyes, “i came. i came, i came,” you chant, maybe he didn’t notice, maybe he didn’t realise.

“i know.” there’s no emotion in his voice, he’s so concentrated, so invested in what he can get out of you. what sounds, what actions, the way you move. it’s like he’s on a timer, he only has so much of it with you and he needs to milk it to its fullest.

“it’s sensitive, please. it’s too much,” tears well up in your eyes.

“you gonna cry?”

you nod against him.

“i’m sorry,” he presses his lips to where he’s bitten your neck, “brave girl. tough it out.”

what he says leaves you with no choice. something clicks in your head and you nod over and over again.

you whine and cry, blubbering words and sentences that don’t make sense. sensing that you’re going to cum again, you push against his fingers.

“don’t. stay still.”

“i can’t,” you whine, “i can’t again.”

“you can.” he smiles. he smiles and smiles and all you can do is twitch and cry out.

and when you cum for him again, pleasure overwhelming every part of you, he flips you onto your back, strong hands gently laying you back.

“my turn,” his grin melts as he presses the head of his cock into you. he preens at the feeling of you hugging him, “oh fuck. feels perfect. you’re perfect.”

your eyes scrunch closed, blubbering like someone who’s forgotten speech.

he’s sliding in and out of you, wanting to feel every single centimetre of himself in you. it’s heaven and he can’t believe that this will have to end.

your head starts to hit the soft headboard, tears still pilled up from the overstimulation on your body.

and then it just stops. he pulls out of you.

“back to you baby,” his hands slide against you once more, and you know it’s going to end with you sobbing against him.

a fun night.

[thrumbolt]

It will never stop being amusing to me that the warning Ianthe gives Tamlin in the beginning of ACOMAF about how Feyre will get either killed or abducted by other high lords and kept for breeding essentially came true.

How Feyre ended up exactly how she feared she would with Tamlin: A waifu who does basically nothing except have her little art studio and her little desk job and pops out babies for the high lord. Sure, what you want in life can change and consent makes all the difference, but it is still an absolutely WILD narrative choice.

[nightecho50]

People on TikTok think mpreg is funny and unbelievable and weird like "imagine if men gave birth!" and "OMG MPREG REFERENCE???" it's like

BRO. THERE ALREADY ARE. IT'S NOT A CUTE YAOI/BL OMEGA VERSE MANGA, PREGNANT TRANS MEN EXIST??? THERE ARE MEN WHO CARRY? SEAHORSE DADS ARE REAL

[hachiibun]

Have some sketches of @collectivelyallergic being so effortlessly indulgent and me being his fruity bunny—

These are all actual exchanges we've had over call from some time ago while he was playing 🥰

If you like my drawings, and are willing and able to do so, please consider pledging to my Patreon or donating through ko-fi ☕! You're not obliged to, but every bit helps to keep me living decently and I really do appreciate it!

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

[suddencolds]

insatiable appetite [1/?]

sooo... this is one of the thirstiest things i have written—and also one of the only times i've written a character with the kink, ever T.T warnings in advance for mess, character getting sneezed on, implied contagion, possible ooc-ness, & me writing this entirely with my d instead of my head

ivan and till are from al//ien sta//ge (a very fun watch which will only take 30 mins out of your life; i really recommend it!!). that said, this fic takes place in a modern au setting, so feel free to read it without any prior context :)

special thanks to @6pmsoup for sending me a very cute alnst doodle of these two which altered my brain chemistry permanently

—

Summary: Till shows up to a dinner outing with a brewing cold. Ivan suffers. (est. relationship, kink!Ivan, ~2k words)

—

For all Till tries to hide it, Ivan can tell immediately.

There’s this: Ivan has been paying attention to Till for most of his life. A full decade before they’d gotten together officially, and some more—this is how long Ivan has had to observe his tells. Always from the sidelines, always with a detached air of indifference that, in reality, was anything but.

All the signs are there the night before. Till, turning up the thermostat a couple degrees higher than he usually keeps it. Spending a little too long in the shower and using up almost all of the hot water. Clearing his throat one too many times in the morning before Ivan leaves for work, his smile distracted, the rasp of his voice nearly indistinguishable—but only nearly.

Now, Till is here for dinner—it’s a dinner they’ve had plans for a couple weeks now, at one of the nicer restaurants downtown, in celebration of Till’s recent promotion. Ivan had booked the reservation a couple weeks in advance.

When Till arrives, stepping out of a taxi cab, he’s wearing a scarf, even though the weather is too warm for it. Ivan steps up to meet him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Till says. “Traffic here was the worst I’ve ever seen it, swear to god.”

“Was it cold outside today?” Ivan asks, a little pointedly, tilting his head towards his scarf.

Till looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Colder than usual, for this time of year.”

“Strange,” Ivan says, just to be difficult. “But the weather forecast says it’s the same temperature today as yesterday.” 

“It’s probably just windier today,” Till says, readjusting his scarf around his neck. His face is a little flushed.

“Your voice sounds a little off, though.”

Till clears his throat with a scowl. “You must be imagining it,” he says. “It always sounds like this.”

No admission, then. That’s fine. Ivan will get the truth out of him at some point. He lets Till guide him into the restaurant.

It’s a nice restaurant—worth the hassle of the reservation, Ivan thinks. Each table is set with flowers arranged tastefully in long glass vases, empty wine glasses turned on their heads. The server—who leads them to their table in a small, private booth—is wearing a suit.

It’s a shame, really. Ivan has a feeling that he won’t be able to pay attention to any of that tonight.

They sit. Ivan looks down at the menu, picks out something at random in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, he can hardly think of anything less worth his attention right now. He turns his attention to Till instead—Till, who’s seated directly across from him, the scarf still around his neck, obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Till sniffles, reaching down to turn the page, and oh. The sniffle is terribly liquid—has he been sniffling like that all afternoon? Perhaps it’s a good thing that they work at different offices—Till at a law firm, Ivan as a senior manager at a consulting company—because Ivan certainly doesn’t think he’d be able to get any work done with Till sniffling like that. 

It’s not two minutes later that Till is reaching up to wipe his nose against the back of one knuckle. All in all, it’s discreet. Just a quick brush of the fingers against his nose, which is still hidden under the scarf. Though, the look of sheer ticklishness that passes over his features for a brief moment there is...

“What are you thinking of ordering?” Ivan asks.

“I can’t decide,” Till answers. He turns the page again. “It’s between the ribeye steak and the… snf! The pork belly. Is this the kind of place that skimps on the portion sizes?”

“Not from their Yelp reviews,” Ivan says. “You know, if you really can’t decide, I can flip a coin.”

“I’ll pick,” Till says. “Why? Hungry already?”

He looks up, now. His eyes are a little watery. There’s a faint flush over the bridge of his nose. Ivan thinks that if he reached out and touched him, he’d probably be running warm. The thought is almost unbearable.

“Your taxi did take forever to arrive,” Ivan says, by way of explanation. 

“Did you really wait that long?”

He looks uncertain, for a moment. Ivan says, “Not at all. But you know, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

Till rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “There was a meeting that ran late. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Is that also a part of your new position?” “I guess so, yeah.”

“I can see why they were eager to promote you, then,” Ivan says. “How productive can late afternoon meetings be, anyways?”

Till snorts. “Not that important. It definitely could have been an email instead. I was about ready to doze off.”

He sniffles again. “Okay. I think I know what I want.” The way he says know betrays the slightest hint of congestion. 

“At long last,” Ivan says, just to be a little bit of an ass. “I’ll call over the waiter.”

He flags their waiter down, waits for Till to order first.

“A spiced apple cider,” Till adds on, at the end, with the slightest of coughs. “Hot, if you can.”

That’s new, too. Till seldom orders hot drinks at restaurants, though he’ll drink tea without complaint if it’s offered. Perhaps his throat hurts, then, from the cold that has clearly started to settle in his system. Subtle, still, but Ivan is familiar with colds like this. He knows it will probably only be a few hours before this deceptively “small” cold turns into…

Ivan orders, too, and thanks the waiter, who leaves with a curt nod. When he looks back over to Till, there’s a… strange something to Till’s expression, a slight distractedness. Irritation.

Ivan swallows hard. He should look away. 

He should, but then, Till’s breath hitches. He pulls the scarf higher over his face preemptively, as if he anticipates having something to have to cover for. The sharp intake of breath that follows is breathy, though Ivan can hear Till’s voice in it. He should really look away.

Instead, he takes the scene in, painstakingly, little by little, as Till’s shoulders jerk forwards. As Till presses a hand to the scarf, presses the fabric closer to his face, to muffle a sneeze into his fingertips:

“hhH-Ih!! hiHH-’IESCHH-eew-!”

God. It sounds utterly miserable, the harsh release of it scraping against his throat, the spray tearing into his scarf. It’s the kind of cold sneeze that is undeniably telling: this is going to be one hell of a cold. It’s not very quiet, either, even muffled into the fabric.

For more reasons than one, Ivan is glad they’re in a private corner of the restaurant, not somewhere more public.

“Bless you,” he offers, once he can trust himself to speak. It’s a good thing that Till is too distracted to look up at him right now. Ivan isn’t sure he can keep what he’s feeling off of his face.

Truthfully, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to endure a whole night of this.

The problem here is that Till—Till, of all people; Till, who Ivan has been pathetically in love with for almost as long as he can remember—has no idea about Ivan’s… relatively niche interests. That is to say, he has no idea what effect it has on Ivan when he does that.

“Thanks,” Till says, a little stuffily. He sniffles again, lowering his hand. 

Ivan can’t help it. He knows he shouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, but he can feel his self-control dwindling by the second. “Don’t you think it would be better to take off your scarf, now that we’re inside?”

Till freezes. “Y-You know what,” he says evasively. “It’s pretty cold in here.”

Ivan tilts his head in question. “And just how do you plan on eating like that?”

“I’ll take it off when our food comes.”

“I can ask the waiter to turn the temperature up, if it’s a problem,” Ivan says. 

“It’s not a problem.”

Ivan rises from his seat. Till watches him, perplexed, as he heads to the opposite side of the table, where Till is seated.

When he gets there, he stops. Stands, unmoving, so he can study Till from above. 

“What are you—”

Ivan reaches out, settles his palm across Till’s forehead. As expected, it’s warm. Not quite feverish, which is a good sign, but warm enough to be notable. 

“Just how long were you intending to hide this?”

Till stares back at him, wide-eyed. “Hide what?”

Shouldn’t it be obvious? “The fact that you have a cold.”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Till says, slowly.

“Hmm.” Ivan drops his hand to his side. He is a little concerned, now. “We could’ve called a rain check.”

This time Till really does roll his eyes. “For the reservation we planned weeks ahead?” he sniffles again. “That just sounds completely and utterly unnecessary. Are you the type of person to call things off just over a little cold?” 

Ivan leans over, tugs down the edge of Till’s scarf. Till bats his hand away just a moment too late, cups his other hand over his face to shield his face from view. For a moment, he looks faintly mortified.

Then his expression settles into something more disgruntled. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

So uncooperative. “Let me see,” Ivan says. Slowly, gently, he pries Till’s hands away from his face, and then—because the restaurant is dimly lit—tilts Till’s face up slightly so that it catches more of the overhead light. 

Till’s nose is redder than usual. He’s probably been rubbing it all afternoon, if the redness that percolates into his cheeks is any indication. There’s  a damp, liquid sheen on the underside of his nose.

“What’s there to see?” Till says, a little crossly.

“Your face, since you’ve been so intent on hiding it under that scarf,” Ivan says, leaning in to get a better look.

Till scowls at him, but there’s no heat to it. “You see my face every day.”

“On the contrary, I don’t see it nearly enough,” Ivan says. “And you hardly ever get sick. Is it so wrong for me to be concerned?”

Without looking, he reaches behind him with one hand to grab a couple cocktail napkins. The other hand he keeps held up to Till’s cheek. 

But then, Till’s breath hitches. “Wait,” he says. Panic flashes through his face. “Ivan, move, I—”

Oh. Well, seeing as there’s no way he’ll be able to get the napkins over in time, it looks like he’ll have to improvise. If Till wants to cover, Ivan can help with that. He moves his hand to cup it loosely over Till’s mouth. Not a second too late, it seems. Till jerks forward unceremoniously, his nose twitching, his eyes squeezing shut.

“hHheh-! HHh’EIITShHh’yYiew!” he gasps sharply. Two? “Hh-! hHiiH’DSSCSSHh-IIew!”  

The jolt of the sneezes is practically electrifying—all of that force, brought to an abrupt halt behind Ivan’s waiting palm. He feels the expulsion of air against his skin, the warmth of Till’s breath, feels the slight dampness behind his hand as the spray mists over his fingertips.

Ivan swallows, hard. Thank god it’s so dark here, otherwise Till might notice what this is doing to him. 

“Bless you,” he says, withdrawing his hand at last to wipe it on one of the cloth napkins. It comes out slightly raspier than he intends it to, though perhaps it’s a miracle that he’s still able to talk at all. “Some cold, hmm?” Belatedly, he hands Till the stack of napkins.

Till practically snatches them from him, turns aside to blow his nose wetly into the top few. The way he sniffles afterwards suggests that his nose is still very much running. 

“Do you have no self preservation? It’s as if you want to catch this,” Till says, drawing back with another sniffle.

Oh, Ivan thinks, fighting back a shiver. That would be far from the worst thing.

[non-dys-sys]

I once showed my (in-sys) brother syscourse and he asked if it was something made up by singlets to cause in-fighting. -Party

[questhappiness]

Okay but I actually think the queer community as a whole would be better off if we all collectively decide to accept and welcome furries instead of trying to use people's disgust of them to make ourselves look normal and cool by comparison

[artzybumpkin]

Would Pi/m do his pim-thing and randomly plant a quick kiss on All/an's bump while they were discussing baby's development and such? 🥺👉👈

P/im wouldn’t be able to help himself😭❤️

Sort of a continuation of the last post, but I felt the only way to portray this ask was via some form of animation! (It’s a bit janky tbh but I think it gets the job done ;D;)

But yes, little dude’s habitual demonstration of affection would be a constant for sure! It only makes sense that he’d make a point to place a little kiss at any opportunity💕 (He’s also the one who coined the nickname “Peanut!” Everyone sort of has their own thing that they call her but peanut is one of them that stuck lol)

Btw here’s the stills if anyone wanted to see ‘em lol

[oh-wow-im-still-here]

I find it funny to think that the usual set-up for a howl's moving castle au wouldn't work for the bingqiu pairing with Luo Binghe as Howl and Shen Qingqiu as Sophie because Shen Qingqiu would fucking love being an old man. He already acts like one normally. Now he looks the part and doesn't have to deal with people's crap anymore? He is sold.

[wepwawah]

sketched something then counldn't get it out of my brain so i finished it up yaaaayyyy it's on da other websites

[dreamdropsystem]

a reminded from our therapist to us to you-!! - Pip