#i like dash hygiene

[kingxplosn]

my brain is still yucky but i am having,,,,,,,,, so many thoughts abt the recent manga spoilers. if anyone wants to crawl into my inbox & write about it,,, i am Thinking

[toastsnaffler]

my flatmate asking me the day before "do u want to hang out w me and [old friend] everyone else cancelled so I can invite u now" is not the heartfelt offer she thinks it is :^/

[bangerbug]

dried fruit exists??? and it tastes heavenly as well??? why did I not know of this???? THESE LITTLE FUNNY LOOKING THINGS ARE SO DELICIOUS OHMYBYGDODOD

[warnersister]

How the Peaky boys react when you tell them you don’t want children (and they do) -> headcannon📽️🎞️

Tommy🪖

🪖He almost thought he hadn’t heard you. He was driving you both back from a family event in which his nieces and nephews had attended, momentarily leaving you throughout the evening to bond with the young children and get you accustomed to the toddler-side of motherhood, subconsciously assuming that you winked be pregnant with your first by the beginning of autumn this year.

🪖“So, did you enjoy spending time with the children this evening?” He asked, flicking the dead bluntness of his cigarette out of the window, satisfied with the nicotine intake he had received. “Yes they’re lovely, parents must have their hands full.” You say, agreeing with his comments on their admirability.

🪖He put his hand quite far up your thigh and smirked, taking his eyes away from the dirt road momentarily. “When would y’ like to start trying for one of us own?” He asked, expecting excitable gasps but all he could hear was a deafeningly tense silence as you almost wordlessly rejected his question.

🪖“Well?” He creased his brows. You looked away and out of the passenger reader “I hadn’t put much thought into it.” You speak small and quiet, presumably nervous to hear his response. “Well we can start trying as soon as we get home, how’s that sound?” He suggested, lightly tapping your thigh to which you squirmed in the leather seat uncomfortably. “Tommy I don’t think I want children.” The car was suddenly lurched sideways and you were grateful the road was private so your husband was unable to cause a crash. “You what?” He asked, car now stationary and his body turned towards you; understandably dominating the situation.

🪖“I don’t want to be a mother.” You say again, voice a bit more quiet this time but still trying to maintain your confidence in your decision. Tommy examined your face to try find some humour, that you were joking with him. “What do you mean you don’t want to be a mother?” “Well Ada gave me her child and I just didn’t want to hold it” “her” he corrects. “Her. I don’t have any maternal instincts I felt nothing, no admiration, no desire, no want. All I wanted was for Ada to take her baby away.” You tell him, spinning the wedding ring on your finger and biting your lips nervously. “No one knows what to do, no one knows how to handle children” he says, assuming you’re just scared “it’s normal to be scared or apprehensive. Heard that’s just a part of parenthood” he restarted the engine.

🪖“Thomas-” “we’re trying for our child when we get home and that’s final.”

Alfie🧸

🧸You owned a bakery; where you and Alfie had met - he’d walked in off the street one day and surprisingly, you must’ve been the only person in Camden not to recognise him. You’d simply greeted him with a large grin, excited to get a customer while he chatted with you and admired the adrenaline fuelled step as you dashed around your little shop - enjoying the appearance of your youth, definitely him being notable few years your senior. He’d ordered some treats, you even had some treats to offer Cyril who you’d asked wait outside for hygiene reasons. “This, yeah, this thing love, it’s bloody lovely it is… hands of an angel you have” he’d charmed, praising your baking abilities as he enjoyed your bakes. Admiring the blush on your cheeks as he serenaded you with words.

🧸He’d left that day leaving you with a sum heftier than the goods had actually been valued at and promised to return. And return he did, every day without fail at 10 in the morning to treat himself and his pup, offering reiteratively to teach you to make some Jewish deserts as the religious population in London was growing. Until the day you’d agreed, both in the back while you were simultaneously running out to greet customers and back to Alfie. You were kneading dough when you heard the bell chime “you’ve really gotta get your fingers in love, yeah, I’ll show you yeah” and he’d towered over you from behind you guide your hands through the mixture. Then a baby’s cry. “I’ll be back.” You say, hurrying out to greet your guest.

🧸A woman stood with a newborn in pram, looking over your selection. The baby wailed. “Can I help you lovely?” You asked with a gentle smile, not noticing Alfie leant against the doorway behind you, sleeves rolled up and caked in flour as he watched you engage with the customer. “Yes, I’d like-” the baby cried louder “erm” she was evidently frantic, opting to pick the baby up and try to sooth him.

🧸“Oh im sorry i cant think straight.” She apologised, cringing at the noise from the baby. You inhaled, not believing what you were about to do. “How about you pick something, and eat it in and I’ll hold him for you to give you a rest.” You suggested and he nodded almost too quickly. Choosing a dessert and you swapped the sweet treat for money and the babe.

🧸You bounced the young child on your hip as he cooed, enamoured by the new face and was now too distracted to cry. The mother relaxed into a chair in front of the counter and savoured the moment of peace, eventually taking the sleeping boy back and leaving incredibly grateful, Alfie almost unable to contain his love protruding from his chest as you turned back around to continue baking. “Back to work” you joked, walking past him to continue on the dough.

🧸“You’d be a great mummy, y’know sweetness?” He muttered, suggestively. You huffed slightly. “Perhaps” your lips pursed and he stopped you kneading. “What’s ’perhaps’ mean, poppet?” He asked you. “Well I just don’t think I want to be a mum.” The man laughed, assuming you were joking. “What do you mean you don’t want to be a mum? I’m getting old now treacle, I’ve not much time left to have little ones and I’d want them to be yours.” He said, holding your hands in his as you refuse to meet his pleading eyes. “Maybe. Not yet.” You mumble, trying to return to work.

Arthur🍺

🍺Arthur had Finn on his shoulders, drunk off his head as he happily paraded his young brother around the Garrison as the party of success roared, Arthur having one too many to drink and now easily excitable.

🍺Finn was happily playing along, bouncing on his brother’s shoulders and clapping to the music drowning out in the background, enjoying the attention he was receiving from the majority of the pub’s inhabitants. Arthur saw you watching the ordeal, bounding over to you to plant a smiley kiss on your lips and you reach up to ruffle Finn’s hair, hidden under your husband’s cap.

🍺“Could have one just like this, what d’ya say love?” He asks, grinning ear to ear but expression faltering when he saw the distaste written all over your own face. He gently took Finn off his shoulders who ran over to John, who processed to spin the body around - scolded by his own wife for nearly pulling the undeveloped youth’s arms off his body.

🍺“Our own little one?” Arthur suggests. You shake your head, small smile. “Not when you keep coming home in a state like this.” You say and his face drops entirely now, sobering up enough to understand the ultimatum you were offering him.

🍺“I will not have children when you come home every day too drunk to think. I will not let our child see his mother carry his father up the stairs because he forgot how to use his own two legs.” You say, pecking your husband’s cheek and offering a disappointed smile before you wondered off to find Polly.

🍺Arthur pondered your words for a moment, before pulling you and grabbing you back towards him, falling to his knees as he promised for stay sober, to get off the drink, he just wanted you to bear him a child.

John🥃

🥃You and John had just gotten married, a marriage you were both unaware of until you were knelt at the alter but still - the two of you had just gotten married and the wedding bells were playing. Neither of you could say you were annoyed with the outcome of this arrangement, neither finding the other unattractive and prepared to attempt to progress in this diversion of your lives.

🥃The reception was a grand festivity, dancing, drinking, celebrating and toasting to the pact and ceasefire between two rivalling families with conflicts decades old. You and John had your dance, him whispering sweet nothings into your ears as if he’d known you all him life and you’d just giggled and blushed and required his advanced with a giddy look upon your faces - like two teenagers in love.

🥃As the evening died down and you’d been escorted to your shared accommodation to last you the night, you finally had a moment of peace and clarity to be able to come to terms with the events of the day, after all, a mere 24 hours ago you were a single maiden merely dreaming of your eventual wedding to a man you’d become enamoured with someday, not a gangster peace pact, but there you stood; having assistance unzipping your dress from your husband John Shelby.

🥃He kissed along your shoulders, to your neck, spinning you around to eventually kiss your lips and continue to consummate your marriage. “How many kids you thinkin’ the ? Five? Ten?” He asked as you lay naked in his arms, a hand drawing gentle cyphers into your skin. “None.” You whisper and his drawings halt and he pulls away from you slightly to be able to look right at you. “That’s not gonna work w’me love. Wanna be dad.” He said, studying the expression on your face. “It’s not that I don’t want to be a mum,” you say - averting his gaze but he caught your chin and drew you back to be unable to look anywhere but him. “But,” he encouraged you to continue. “But my grandmother died in childbirth, as did my own mother. And my sister is coming to the end of her pregnancy and it isn’t looking positive for her either. I don’t want to leave my children without their mummy and my husband without a wife.” You almost whisper, voice cracking as tears gathered in your eyes. John drew you in to offer you a tight and reassuring embrace. “Is it hereditary?” He asked after a while and felt your head shake against his bare torso. “I don’t know. Either genetic or just bad treatment.” You stay in silence for a moment.

🥃“But I’d be willing to try if being a dad means that much to you.” You say, peering up to your new husband whose eyes soften at the admittance. “Well I’ll tell you what, if it was bad treatment no woman of mine would lift a finger while pregnant. You’d stay in bed and I’d cater to your every need, carry you to wherever you need to go. Pay for the best doctor and the best hospital to make sure my woman and my child both leave the hospital alive and well.” He leant his forehead against yours. “I’ll take good care of you if you let me.”

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie always wanted to be a father. Be a dad. Raise his children the true gypsy way with his wife by his side - let them in the audience when they’re old enough to appreciate his fights, falsely tussle with them and let them win as he begged them for mercy and heard their victorious giggled. Oh he couldn’t wait for the day you’d bear his umpteenth child. That day couldn’t come soon enough.

🥊And when he joined the Blinders, he’d fallen head over heels for the young florist who worked tirelessly across the road from the Garrison, carrying Arthur home as Harry locked up shop and he’d still see you working on a bouquet you’d needed for a client the following day. He admired your work ethic and the old fashioned part of him couldn’t help but imagine you working as furiously in a kitchen while you tickled your children for interrupting your cleaning. You’d make a fine wife in his eyes.

🥊And against no wish of his own, one day Isaiah had forced the young lad into the shop with a laugh and you’d peered up at him form over the counted, cutting the final stem off of the roses you were working on before asking how you could be of assistance and you’d be lying if your breath hadn’t caught in your own throat, also - seeing him to-ing and fro-ing from the Garrison with the rest of those Blinder lads and finding his look rather endearing.

🥊“How can I help you?” You asked with a stressed but gentle expression on your face. “How much do you make an hour?” He asked. “I beg your pardon?” You retort, eyebrows creasing at the nerve of the man and you began to question whether your initial judgement was correct.

🥊“Sorry, no, I meant how much would it cost me to steal you for a few hours for a date without you loosing profit?”

🥊And the rest was history.

🥊He’d taken you to his fights, to restaurants, to his home with the travellers, even to a couple of family meetings as you’d already been acquainted with the Shelby men buying apology flowers for their spouses for coming home battered and bruised with no contact for a few days.

🥊It was a Tuesday, business was slow but you still had a few orders to finish and being not-bust himself, Bonnie was there to offer a helping hand to his lady. The door chimed but you couldn’t see anyone, confused; you leant over the counter to see a young boy, no older than seven stood there. “Please may I have a flower for my mummy? She’s very sad.” The boy pouted. You hummed. “What flower would you like to give your mummy?” The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out two coins, a button and some lint “whatever flower this may get me, if you please miss.” You nod and hand the boy a small bouquet of daisies with a bow to hold them together. The lad grinned and thanked you, offering you his pocket change and you shook your head. “All you owe me is your mummy a smile.” You say and he promises, running back out of the shop.

🥊Bonnie came up and hugged you from behind, leaving a long kiss on your cheek. “You’re awfully good with children, darling girl” he compliments and you scoff. “Yeah sure.” You roll your eyes and go back to your previous activity. And Bonnie’s dream world came crashing down around him as he realised your intentions.

🥊“What? Don’t want little ones?” He asked, keying as to why you’d be unable to offer him an heir. “No because I can’t deal with sick, I can’t deal with whining, I can’t deal with crying and I can’t even take care of myself for crying out pigs. How do I take care of a child?” You shake you head, as if the man was daft.

🥊“But with our child, it would be different.” He says and you look up at him noting the sincerity and desperation in his look. “Maybe when we’re married or something.” You disregard. He shakes his head. “Why not now?” “I have a flourishing business and I’m not just leaving it all to be a wife and mother and traveller.” You say, inhaling sharply and he frowns. You will come around eventually. He bargains with himself mentally.

Isaiah♟️

♟️You and Isaiah were upstairs in the Shelby household, getting a few moments of blissfulness together before the rest of your family returned. Especially your twin Finn, who was still unknowing about the blossoming relationship between you and Isaiah.

♟️Isaiah was kissing all up your body, a starved man delving hungrily at his first meal in weeks, leaving piercing bite-sized bruises in places for his eyes only. Places he’d see when he’d draw you a bath after you’d finished doing the Devil’s bidding in your frequenting sinful tango.

♟️The boy thrust into you at a desperate pace, eager to fuck you out in a matter of minutes and prove just how desperate you could be for him, just how quickly he could make you cum under the pressure from his cock and his thumb rubbing quick circles around your clit, mouth silenced by his own as he kissed you passionately.

♟️He pulled back, clawing his fingers into your hips as though you were trying to get away from him - but if anything you were trying to get closer, go reach that release you so desperately craved. “Going to fuck my baby into you. Fill you full with my child.” He promised, thrusting deep and skilfully. You shook your head. “No Isaiah.” His pace didn’t falter but he looked up at you, grabbing your jaw and squeezing your cheeks as if fucking you dumb. “No?” “No.” You say between smushed cheeks. “Don’t want no kids.”he chuckled. “Too late.” And he continued working on his promise, and you were too high on pleasure to argue any further but when he came inside you it seemed all to real, his hand over your mouth to stifle your cries as you came all over him and him inside you.

♟️“Isaiah I don’t want children.” You say in tears, trying to catch your breath but his weight on top of you was too much and he was still buried too deep, desperate not to waste a drop.

♟️“You’ll bare my children whether you like it or not, doll.” He says, stroking your cheek. “Then they’ll have to let me marry you, won’t they?”

Michael🎱

🎱Michael loved parading his fiancée. He’d proposed in a place so public, so romantic, so endearing… how could you ever say no to your charming Michael?” The rock on your finger was substantial despite the promise you’d made him make to not waste his money on some piece of jewellery, but he’d argued that piece of jewellery showed what was his so he’d have to make his as obvious as possible.

🎱And one afternoon he’d found himself free from any Blinder work, able to take you out and dined you at the finest afternoon tea he could find, drinking as his hand lay comfortably on your thighs as you engaged in wholesome chatter about your future together. Discussing a home in the country, him leaving the family business or at least doing the work needed to be done in the green hills of the Peak District.

🎱“-and you’ll make a lovely mother-” he continued but you stopped him “wait, mother?” You cut him off and he nods, nearly confused. “Well yes. Once we get married you’ll leave your job and I’ll lay for that pretty little house you want and you’ll cook and clean and you’ll bare my children.” He instructed, as if reeling off some old fashioned fairytale his adoptive mother had told him of as a child.

🎱“Michael I don’t want to be a mother.” You say, nearly afraid of him. “Well we can start small. Have one and then we can decide how many more we want from there.” “And if I don’t want more” “then we’ll settle with a son. Raise him.” “And what if it’s a daughter?” You ask. “See.” He grits his teeth. “Already thinkjng about gender. You obviously care. You’re just scared.” “Michael-” “you are my woman. You will bare my children and do your duty as a lady. End of discussion.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️Finn was head over heels in love with you since you’d started working at the Garrison that one evening in late June. Harry had hired you after you’d lied about your age, and at this point you’d guessed he’d figured it out by now: he was a smart man, but you’d ran away from home and this job was the only form of income or stability you had supporting you and this crumbing life you were trying to withhold. Well, that and Finn’s arm constantly around your waist - ignoring your numerous rejections until eventually managing a date with you.

🎞️The young Shelby smirked at you from across the room, enjoying the sight of you limping around the bar - sore from last night antics. You were staying with the Shelby family, in Finn’s room, where he was determined to take your virginity and bed you in some dark, twisted fantasy. Pump you with his heir so you couldn’t deny him once more, plus the thought of you plump with a child was mouthwatering and he couldn’t wait to see it.

🎞️You’d started the evening quickly, desperate to rip each other’s garments of and clothes pray after you’d sinned to the devil, advocating for his anti-christian tango as Finn fucked you fast into the sheets. You’d done it iteratively, falling asleep only to be woken up by the boy kissing down your back only to lazily thrust into you again with tired eyes. He’d done it three or four times, until the morning when you’d woken up, his cock still buried deep in your velvety walls, a mixture of both of yours productions pooling onto his bed as he tried to act as a cork to not waste a drop of his productivities.

🎞️So he thoroughly enjoyed the sight, and the falsely-annoyed side glances you’d shoot his way when you were presented with the opportunity.

🎞️It wasn’t out of the ordinary to see new faces in the garrison, well they came every day; whether they be travellers passing through Birmingham or illegal businessmen there to drink and tussle before being thrown out. It was a nightly occurrence. And you expected nothing less this evening.

🎞️It was eight o’clock in the evening on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffling in other than the Shelby family who had already been seated an hour prior. “What’re you drinking?” An unidentifiable voice asked and you spun go see a man you didn’t recognise, age substantially your senior as he grinned rotted teeth at you.

🎞️“I’m not drinking. I’m serving, however may I offer you Shelby Gin?” You offer, trying to be polite. “I’ll take whatever you’d recommend. I’ll have you if you’re on the menu.” You grimace and poor him a glass, attempting to move on with your shift, unbeknownst to your dance partner seething with rage at the conversation and seeing red fury at a man trying to converse with a Shelby reserved girl.

🎞️He’d asked for a refill, and when you were topping up his drink, he’d reached across the bar to grab your bosom. And before you’d managed to fathom the situation, Finn had lurched across the room and tackled the man, who was laying on the floor clutching his bloodied, broken nose adjacent to Finn who’s knuckles were bruised and dirtied. “How dare you fucking touch her? Touch my pregnant missus? I’ll fuckin’ kill you, y’piece of shit.” And after a few more rough punches and kicks the man was kicked out into the blistering cold of a harsh Birmingham winter, Finn rounding the bar to hug you and calm down slightly.

🎞️Soon everyone was congratulating your pregnancy and asking when the wedding was and after a while you’d managed to pull Finn to the side and question these praises “why did you say I was pregnant? I’m not. And even if I was you know my views, I’m not keeping it.” “I had Polly read your leaves when you had tea this morning. Fucked ya again and again to make sure of it. You ain’t leaving me when you’re pregnant and you certainly ain’t killing my child.” He said, kneeling to kiss your stomach with an evil glint in his eye.

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 4.6k ➠ warnings: cursing, vomiting, depictions of illness, hospital settings, etc. (but he gets better! i prommy!) ➠ genre: fluff, a touch of hurt/comfort, suggestive? (i mean they’re mentioned to shower together but it’s in a very tender caretaking sort of way, it's a ‘you cannot perform this task of hygiene and i love you and will assist you in performing this vital task’ sort of thing), established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after 27JSC, before garbage goal) ➠ extra info: the title is directly lifted from the title of this academic article on pubmed that came up in some googling i was doing for this fic the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i did NOT expect this to turn into a literal series but these two have rlly captured my lil heart tbh. i’m obsessed with them. they’re in love. i’m not sorry and i will not pretend to be in order to be cute on the internet. anyway enjoy 🫶 ➠ series masterlist

The utter relief that you felt having Sungchan home again was a feeling unparalleled. Having him home, in his own clothes, in your bed, holding you and laughing at something stupid he’d just said but thought was the funniest thing ever—that was the most you’d ever loved someone, you decided.

Stirring slightly in the middle of the night, you were aware of being uncomfortable, hot, and sweaty under all your sheets, blankets, and boyfriend.

“Mmh,” you groaned, pushing at Sungchan, who was of course passed out on top of you like you were the mattress. “Channie, off. ‘m too hot.”

He readjusted slightly, but just grabbed you to pull you to his front like the cuddle monster he was. You were now acutely aware of your clothes sticking to your back and chest.

“No, let go.” You grabbed at his arms. “Come on, Channie, aren’t you hot too?”

He suddenly vaulted himself out of bed, throwing the sheets and blankets off of him in a mad dash towards the bathroom. You sat up in bed, blearily watching him in confusion until he kneeled down at the toilet and you finally put the pieces together, hurrying in after him and turning on the light on your way in.

He didn’t have any hair to hold back from his face as he emptied his stomach, so you mainly rubbed his back through his damp t-shirt. With the bathroom lights on, you were able to see that the front and back of his white shirt were entirely soaked with sweat, his face pink and sweat-sheened, and his hair stuck to his forehead. His whole body radiated with an unnatural heat as you sat beside him, coaching and comforting him through it as he gripped the toilet bowl with white knuckles.

When it seemed like he had gotten to a pause in his retching, you coaxed his head up away from the opening, then flushed it. Grabbing some toilet paper from the roll hanging next to you, you bundled up enough to wipe around his mouth and nose, then tossed that into the bowl as well as the water was still draining.

“We…” He stopped to cough, then spit into the toilet. “We ate the same stuff last night… Why aren’t you…”

“Baby, I don’t think this is food poisoning,” you replied, moving his hair off his forehead to press the back of your hand there. “I think you’re sick.”

“But my immune system is so good! I haven’t even gotten a cold in like five years! I got my flu shot two weeks ago!”

“I know, I was there holding your hand.”

His whining was cut off by more puking, and you continued to soothe him through it.

“Channie, you can’t send this.” You shook your head, reading over his email to his research head again.

“But I have to… to tell him why I can’t come in,” Sungchan reached for his phone from your hands.

“Baby, this is gibberish.” You held the phone away from his grabby hands so you could delete the nonsense email and exit out of the app before setting it on his nightstand. “You go back to sleep, I’ll call the lab for you, okay?”

He sighed, laying back down in bed and closing his eyes. “Okay… don’t take too long… miss you…”

“And he’s out,” you commented to yourself fondly.

It was quick work to look up the office line on the university’s website, and you took the call in the living room as he napped in your room. Hearing the click of it being picked up first, it was answered by an older-sounding, stern man.

“Yoon Taekyung.”

“Hi, Dr. Yoon, this is Y/L/N Y/N, I’m—”

“Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, yes, Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.” You laughed nervously, caught off-guard. You’d never met Sungchan’s research head before.

“Jung talks about you a lot. I don’t stalk my PhD candidates online, in case you were wondering.”

“No, I wasn’t, but thank you for clarifying,” you chuckled. “Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you, but unfortunately Sungchan has a stomach bug and is not going to be able to come in for a few days. He had typed up his own email to you but when I proofread it… you could tell the fever was boiling his brain.”

“I would have appreciated the laugh,” Dr. Yoon said dryly. “We certainly don’t want Jung bringing any outside germs into the microbiology lab. Keep him home.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Yoon.”

Having already finished your master’s degree, you didn’t have any professors to email about missing class today. It was a Friday, and you weren’t scheduled to work all weekend, so you were free to stay home and take care of Sungchan.

Walking back into your bedroom, you stopped next to Sungchan’s side of the bed, pressing your hand to his forehead. He really was burning up.

His eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled something that sounded like your name.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here,” you reassured him, stroking his head. “Go back to sleep, I’m going to make you something to eat, okay?”

His eyes closed again, and you gave his head one last gentle pat.

Poking your head back into the bedroom some time later, you were pleasantly surprised to see Sungchan awake again, scrolling on his phone.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” You walked over, grabbing the thermometer off his nightstand.

“Mm… great,” he groaned, setting his phone down.

“Liar.” You held the thermometer out. “Open.”

He pouted up at you with the thermometer sticking out of his mouth as the two of you waited. It beeped, and you took it back, frowning as you read the display.

“I don’t like that…” You sighed, taking a picture of it with your phone. “I’m going to text your mom. How’s your tummy?”

“Fine…”

“You think you can eat? I made some food.”

“Sure, sure, yeah.”

“Okay, be right back, Channie.” You kissed his hair.

In the kitchen, you hurriedly opened your text conversation with Sungchan’s mom. She was a family medicine doctor, and you’d been updating her on how her son was doing throughout the day.

[you: attached image]

[you: his fever keeps going up, even after the meds he took this morning. no more puking so far]

As you spooned out small portions of dishes, loaded them up on a tray, and reheated a mug of some tea you’d prepared earlier, you continued texting back and forth with Dr. Jung.

[dr. jung: Give him another dose of the acetaminophen. If it keeps going up take him to urgent care]

[you: will do, thank you. he’s about to try to eat some lunch. wish us luck!]

[dr. jung: Good luck sweetheart]

Tucking your phone away, you grabbed the tray of food to take back in to Sungchan. He had pushed himself up against the headboard, letting you set the tray down on his lap. Putting the now steaming mug on the nightstand, you started pointing to everything.

“Ginger tea, and easy tummy foods. Some rice, soup, crackers, and for dessert—” You pulled out a small package from the pocket of your hoodie.

He gasped softly. “Chocolate biscuits…”

“Chocolate biscuits,” you confirmed, setting them on the tray table then stroked his hair gently. “I’m going to go clean up the kitchen then I’ll come sit with you. Holler if you need me before then, okay?”

He grabbed your hand before you could get too far, his skin burning hot against yours. “Hey. Thank you.”

“Anything for my Sungchannie,” you smiled, gently swinging your linked hands where they hung in the air. “Small bites, and don’t force anything down, okay? You’ll only throw it back up if you do that.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And how are you on water?” You picked up the water bottle on his nightstand with your free hand, shaking it. “Eh, half. I’ll refill it for you, too. Be back in a sec.”

After putting the leftovers away and refilling his water, you shook out a couple more tablets of acetaminophen and brought both of them back with you.

“Here.” You placed them on the table next to him. “Your mom says to take another dose, and if your fever keeps going up then we’ll have to take you to urgent care.”

He nodded, thankfully opting not to talk with food in his mouth. You scooted back into bed next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he slowly picked at his food.

“Good food, baby, thank you,” he sniffled, taking a sip of his tea. “I mean, my nose is so stuffed up I can’t taste most of it, but it’s still good.”

You chuckled, patting his chest. “Thanks, Channie.”

“Are you sure you should be sitting so close to me? I don’t want to get you sick too.”

“We live together, I’m either going to get sick or I won’t. It’s not like I’m asking you to spit in my mouth or anything,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, right now.”

Before you could even make a retort, he suddenly careened forward in a fit of violent coughs, and you surged to first steady the tray table so he didn’t knock the liquids everywhere. After moving it off his legs and onto an unoccupied area of the mattress, you rested a hand on his back as he continued coughing, wincing sympathetically at how painful they sounded. Finally, he stopped coughing, and paused to catch his breath.

“Mm… I think you should keep your loogies to yourself for now, Channie,” you tutted. “Drink some water.”

Setting his water bottle back down, he blinked slowly. “Ugh… that hurt.”

“Do you want the food back? Or are you done?”

He shook his head. “I’m done. Don’t want anything coming back up.”

“I’ll put it in the fridge in case you get hungry later.”

You had just closed the fridge when you heard retching sounds from your bathroom.

It was almost two hours later before the two of you left the cold tile floor of your bathroom. There were impressions of the grout in your knees and your joints ached from the unforgiving, hard flooring. And it was only to get Sungchan to sit on the equally hard, cold, tile floor of the shower under a lukewarm stream of water—you were afraid of making it too hot with how high his fever already was, and he whimpered like the water was hurting him if it was too cold. With how much fever-sweating he’d been doing since the wee hours of the morning, you could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for him (you yourself still hadn’t had the chance to sneak in a quick shower since being awoken in sweat that morning either). Not even to mention just all the puke that the both of you had been around.

You knelt behind him to very gently work some shampoo through his hair, then tilted his chin up with your hand to direct his head back into the spray and rinse out the suds. You used your other hand to block his eyes from any stray shampoo that may accidentally run down into them. With his hair off his forehead, you could catch a glimpse of a light scar, from taking a puck directly to the face your senior year of college, soon after you started dating. You’d taken care of him then, warned him to be careful when washing his hair, and he’d joked about having you do it for him. You couldn’t help but run a finger over it lightly.

After finishing up washing his hair, you reached behind you to blindly fumble for the handle and turn the spray off. It was a bit dicey getting the two of you to stand up in the confined space with Sungchan’s less-than-optimal coordination at the moment, and you toweled the both of you off in the bathroom quickly.

Back in new clothes, you let him fall into bed as you appraised the nightstand. “Did you take the meds before you threw up? I don’t— Oh, there they are.”

You grabbed them from behind the water bottle, nudging Sungchan’s shoulder. “Baby, you can take a nap after you take these, okay? They’re going to help your fever.”

“Uh?” He squinted one eye open, then dropped his mouth open. You placed the tablets on his tongue, then held the straw up to his lips. He swallowed with minimal difficulty, then dropped his head back down to the pillow.

You crawled into bed too, curling up behind him and throwing an arm over his middle. Sungchan groaned and shifted in place.

“Are you warm?” You asked quietly. “I’ll scooch if you’re too warm.”

“No,” he whined, grabbing at the blankets and pulling them up higher. “Cold… ‘n everything hurts, baby. My head hurts, my throat hurts, my stomach hurts, my muscles hurt from throwing up so much. Everything hurts.”

“My Sungchannie.” You scooted in closer to him, burying your face in his neck. “I’m sorry… I wish it didn’t hurt, baby. I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it stop for you.”

“I’m going to take a nap, I think…” He sniffed.

“I think that’s a good idea.” You kissed his shoulder. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, baby boy.”

“That’s it, we’re going to the urgent care,” you declared with a shake of your head, looking at the most recent temperature readout on the thermometer. Up again.

Despite all of Sungchan’s grumbling about not being that sick, you still managed to get him into the car and to the doctor, keeping a wary eye on him as you took all of your turns very carefully and accelerated and braked as smoothly as possible so that he hopefully wouldn’t vomit all over your car interior as well. After staying in the waiting room for an agonizing amount of time, you two finally went back.

The doctor took one look at Sungchan’s vitals, and you explained just how many times he’d thrown up in less than twelve hours, before deciding to admit him.

You had been asked to step out of his room for the moment, and walked up and down the long hallway, continuing to update his mom.

[you: he just got admitted. doctor says he probably just needs fluids and something stronger to bring the fever down but wants to keep him overnight for observation]

[dr. jung: Who’s his attending?]

[you: dr. chen]

[dr. jung: Oh good. He’s good, our Sungchan’s in good hands. I’ll be by after clinic closes.]

[you: thanks, i’ll let him know you’re coming]

A nurse left Sungchan’s room then, and you perked up as the older man seemed to be walking towards you.

“I’m so sorry, miss, this is going to sound weird,” he began with a sheepish smile. “But has your husband been on TV?”

“Oh, uh, boyfriend…” You corrected him distractedly, way more focused on said boyfriend. “And uhm, not exactly. Why?”

“He just looks very familiar.”

You thought for a second, then suggested, “Do you like hockey?”

“Yes, my wife and I have season passes for the local university’s team’s home games.”

“Sungchan played for the Raptors a couple years ago.”

“Oh! I was wondering why the name was so familiar too…”

“Sorry, did you need something from me?”

“Yes, I need to put his IV in, uhm, but he’s asking for you…”

You nodded. “Yeah, he has a fear of needles. Shouldn’t that be in his chart or whatever somewhere?”

“We just have the records from the urgent care doctor who sent him up here, sorry,” the nurse admitted. “But I’ll make a note of it.”

Following the nurse in, you saw that Sungchan was all by himself, and had to bite your lip at the image of him already hooked up by wires to a bunch of other machines. He still smiled when he saw you, though.

“Hey, baby…” he held his hand out towards you, and you took it, giving it a squeeze.

“Hi. Heard you were asking for me.”

“Thought you might feel left out if I got a needlestick and you weren’t here.”

“Yeah, it’s my favorite hobby, watching you get pricked over and over,” you replied sarcastically.

“Which arm?” The nurse asked.

“The right. He’s a lefty,” you answered immediately.

He looked between you and Sungchan for a moment.

“What she said,” Sungchan confirmed.

As the nurse prepared his arm for the IV, you distracted him on his other side.

“So, I was texting your mom in the hallway,” you told him. “She said she’s going to come by after the clinic closes. She also knows your attending, says you’re in good hands, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, that’s good.” He suddenly squeezed your hand tight.

You rushed to find another topic and keep talking, “Also, I have to tell you about this new book I was reading. Really, it was a collection of short stories, but you know how I am with those. God, it’s incredible. It’s like surrealism, and sort of psychological horror, and some of them toe in body horror, but also magical realism, but all of them sort of explore like womanhood and societal expectations of women and that kind of thing. They’re so fantastic. There’s one about a teenage girl who just starts eating birds one day. Like, live birds, the kind of birds you’d keep as a pet. Feathers and all. She’s not actually the POV character, though, you get to follow her dad as he tries to take in this change and adjust and acclimate to it as his otherwise normal teen daughter has to consume live birds while his estranged wife tries to convince him to just accept it and that it’s really not that bad. And obviously that can be a metaphor for how fathers—”

“Done.” The nurse announced. “Dinner’s in an hour, Mr. Jung. Buzz if you need anything before then.”

“I think you freaked him out with your ‘eating live birds and scaring your dad is a metaphor for being a teen girl’ story, baby,” Sungchan chuckled.

“But it is!” You defended yourself. “And it’s so good, really!”

“I’m sure it is.” He scooted over in the tiny bed to make a little bit of room, then patted the empty space he’d just created. “Want my girl to tell me all about it.”

You clambered up next to him, still with one foot hanging off the bed to let both of you fit, but just all too happy to be with him again.

Just a little while later, and the nurse was poking his head back into Sungchan’s room. Dr. Jung paused the funny story she had just been telling from her seat on the small recliner next to the bed, and all three of you looked over at the newcomer.

The nurse focused his apologetic eyes on you, “Miss, I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”

“Oh.” You looked around awkwardly, starting to get up from the bed. “Sorry, I thought he was allowed to have one person stay overnight.”

“Spouses and immediate family only, I’m sorry.”

“That’s fi—”

“No, we’re married,” Sungchan insisted, grabbing your hand. “It’s fine, she can stay.”

“Sir…” He trailed off, clearly debating about whether or not he wanted to just outright call Sungchan a liar.

“Channie, I told him earlier we were dating,” you informed your boyfriend quietly. “It’s fine, I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Baby…” He sighed.

“It’ll be okay, Channie, I’ll be back tomorrow,” you promised him, grabbing your go bag off the floor and hoisting it onto your shoulder. “You just worry about resting and getting better for me, okay?”

“I’ll walk you out, sweetheart,” his mom offered kindly, standing up as well.

“Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Channie,” you leaned down to drop a peck on his forehead. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He continued to keep a deathly tight grasp on your hand. “I love you too.”

You gave his hand one final pat before regretfully, gently shaking him off and walking out of the room. Dr. Jung slowly meandered down the hall with you.

“I’ll be there, in case they have to inject him, or draw blood, or anything else,” she reassured you.

“Right, thank you,” you nodded, looking down at your feet. “Has he always been afraid of needles? He never really talks about it with me, it’s just one of those things. I go with him for his shots, blood draws, all that.”

“Since he was a kid. He used to run from the room crying. We at least wanted him to be able to handle it on his own by the time he was an adult, even if it wasn’t comfortable.”

“He gives me my monthly injection now, the one I take for my migraines. Did you know that?”

“Really?” She did sound surprised at this tidbit of information.

“Pretty much since we started dating, yeah. Still wants me to go with him for his shots but…”

“It’s different when you’re the one being stuck.”

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You pressed the down button on the elevator. “Usually I’m the one that has something wrong with me and he’s taking care of me. It’s so… it doesn’t feel right, seeing him like that.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She rubbed your arm. “But he’s strong, he’s healthy. I’m sure they’ll discharge him tomorrow to go back home with you.”

“Of course.”

“Now you go home and take care of that migraine that’s been coming on for the last fifteen minutes.”

You looked up at her with one eye open, shrugging. “Well, I don’t know if it’s a full migraine…”

“You’re squinting at the lights, sweetheart. Go home so you can take your meds, okay?”

The elevator dinged just then, the doors opening on your floor.

“Okay, thank you.” You gave her a tired, but genuinely grateful smile as you stepped onto the elevator. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You spent that night going through your first migraine alone in almost two years, curled up on Sungchan’s side of the bed in one of his huge hoodies, feeling like your head was exploding. But that wasn’t even the reason that you were crying.

In the morning, you were awake before visiting hours opened back up, and despite your instinct to drive to the hospital and wait in the parking lot, you pulled yourself into the shower instead. You didn’t have a lot of time nor mobility for your own shower routine yesterday, and were in desperate need of a good thorough clean and refresh now. After eating some of the leftovers you made the day before, you packed up a small to-go meal for Dr. Jung as well, unsure of how good the cafeteria food was there. She had given you an update during the night that his fever had finally broken, then another once she woke up that he slept through the rest of the night fine, and was still resting as of her text.

By the time you got to the hospital, it was open for daytime visitors, and you were let in with no issues. You’d let Dr. Jung know when you were on your on way, and she was standing outside the door to his room when you arrived.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she smiled, giving you a hug. “How’s your head?”

“Fine,” you waved off her concerns, reaching into your bag to grab the container of food you’d packed. “Brought you breakfast. Wasn’t sure what they were serving downstairs…”

She accepted it gratefully. “Thank you. Now: How’s your head?”

“Last night kind of sucked,” you admitted. “And I’ve got a rebound headache, but I’ll be fine. We don’t need to tell Channie right now, though. He’ll just worry too much and he won’t get better. How’d you sleep? That recliner looked pretty comfy.”

“Would’ve slept better, except he snores like a freight train,” she scoffed. “How you get any sleep is beyond me.”

You let out a round of genuine laughter at that. “He doesn’t usually. Must be the congestion.”

“Must be.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’m going to take my breakfast downstairs. He’s awake, been asking when you’d be here.”

“Thank you.” You gave her one last fleeting hug before hurrying in.

Sungchan already looked better than yesterday, still tired, but not as deathly pale as before, with no sheen of fever-sweat over his skin. He really just looked… tired.

“Good morning, Channie,” you said breathlessly, setting your bag down. “Heard your fever broke last night. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, baby.” He reached out for your hand. “I’m feeling a lot better. I wish I could’ve made my girl breakfast this morning…”

“You can make me double breakfast after you come home.”

“And what’s double breakfast?”

“Guess you’ll have to figure that out.”

“Breakfast and breakfast for dinner.”

“Sounds pretty good to me.”

He looked up at you with a thoughtful frown on his face, reaching out to gently touch his fingertips to your cheek. “Are you okay, baby? You’re not feeling sick now too, are you?”

“I’m fine, baby. Just a bit tired. I’ll sleep like a baby once I have my Sungchannie back home with me.” You mustered as big of a smile as you could, squeezing his hand.

“I’ve got to get better quick then, can’t have���” he was cut off by loud, violent coughs, throwing his arm up to cover his mouth with his elbow. You rubbed his back as he continued coughing, and he reached for the bedside table. Handing him a couple of tissues from the box sat there, he spat out some of the mucus that had come up, and you used a few more fresh tissues to grab it and throw it away without complaint.

Returning to his side, you continued rubbing his back as he caught his breath. When he started slowly easing back into his bed, you took your hand away and grabbed his cup of water to give him.

“Here.”

He took a few sips before handing it back, and you took his hand again.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat. “Before I was so rudely interrupted by my own phlegm: I can’t have my girl all alone in a cold bed at night…”

You laughed, feeling the smitten smile on your face as you looked down at him. “There is some horndog switch in you that gets flipped when you’re unwell, I swear. Scientists need to study you.”

“I’m a scientist, remember?”

“You study a disease in one kind of fish,” you pointed out. “I mean like… sexologists or something. If those exist.”

“They do.”

“Well they’re missing out on… something here.” You gestured to him.

He half-laughed and half-coughed, which devolved into another full coughing fit. After recovering, he said, “Anyway, once my doctor rounds again and checks me out, he’ll be able to say if I can be discharged today or if he wants to keep me another night.”

“Fingers crossed.”

The utter relief that you felt having Sungchan home again was a feeling unparalleled. Having him home, in his own clothes, in your bed, holding you and laughing at something stupid he’d just said but thought was the funniest thing ever—that was the most you’d ever loved someone, you decided.

You suddenly rolled over to lay on top of him, pressing your face to his chest, wrapping your arms around him, and throwing your leg over him. He let out a slightly punched-out noise at the unexpected force of your affections, but nevertheless readjusted to wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, baby… Everything okay?” His throat was still hoarse, and he let out a half-cough half-throat clearing noise between his sentences. He added jokingly, “I’m not going to float away, you know?”

“I never want you to leave again,” you mumbled into his clothes. “Never. Never ever.”

“Okay, yeah,” his voice softened, one of his hands cradling the back of your head and stroking your hair. “I’ll never leave, ever again.”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

[enoe-of-noen]

Which brother is Barbatos’s least favorite?

A random thought I had while using my BBB squad in NB.

________________

Lucifer

Obviously his fav. I mean, he’s Dia’s lover. He’s respectable, hardworking, responsible, calm, and collected. What else could the butler ask from Diavolo’s most trusted buddy?

Mammon

Irresponsible, immature, childish. Definitely on Barbatos’s bad side. However, if Lucifer has faith in him, he can trust him just a bit.

Leviathan

Iffy. I mean, he’s clean so I guess he’s alright? And I guess his military position earns him some respect. Man’s just too jittery I guess? Horrible to ask favours of, let it be physical or to socialize, he can’t do either. What a hopeless man. Also, I’m not sure if hygiene is this otaku’s top priority on certain nights…

Satan

Have you seen his room? An absolute mess. But, he is very gentlemanly like his eldest brother and makes great conversation. Although his habit of bringing in strays into HOL isn’t exactly appreciated by Barb.

Asmodeus

Another iffy. Looks incredibly dashing and dislikes ruining it, but he isn’t exactly as calm and collected as Lucifer imo. He’s definitely not horrible, but ain’t the best either. Makes good white noise because of his ramblings, although it can get annoying.

Beelzebub

Messy eater. At least he is polite and considerate otherwise.

Belphegor

Lazy ass brat. Doesn’t even try to be polite.

________________

Go ahead and share your thoughts too! And if anyone else has done a post about this, send it my way/in notes!!

[radioisntdead]

(To maybe save our hearts from the angst, how about a cuter idea? could be any gender really and be seen as platonic or not just very vague fluffy fun)

A reader who is similar age to Susan and is the opposite type of old person, a gentle Grandparent who has old person candies at all times. Most importantly however is the only one who can calm Susan's feral chihuahua energy, only when they need to of course.

They play cribbage on weekends, and definitely both chat about the youngins- maybe playfully feud on which is better Knit or Crochet

Good evening my dear! This is a little shorter then I wanted but I did write it in a hair salon, where at the time of posting I'm still in.

Bitter and sweet

Warnings!!!

Cannibalism, Reader is GN but gives off old lady grandma vibes, this is written in little drabbles mainly because I wrote them in an hair salon

Susan had a neighbor, she lived to the left of her house, while Susan's house was more stale and strict appearing her neighbor's was more soft colors, with gnomes outside and a lovely garden filled with all types of hell's flora,

You'd think the two would be at odds but they got along well, going out for tea each day, on weekends they'd go to bingo or play a game of cribbage, although they did get into tiffs about what was better between crochet and knitting, like how crochet is easier for some to pick up with the sole hook, or how knitting uses less yarn then crochet, They were dear friends, and this is some tidbits with them.

You and Susan had opposing aesthetics but that didn't stop the two of you from matching outfits in some way or another, she wore her usual pinkish dress? You were two feet away from her in more brighter attire.

"Kids these days are getting more and more foolish each day, fucking crying in the middle of the streets!"

Susan said, sat on a bench looking across the street at some poor cannibal gal sobbing as her dearest assumingly ended things

When you didn't respond she looked over at you only to see that you were gone,

"Where the hell- [Name]!"

You had dashed over to the gal, swatting at her former lover with your handfan, scolding him for breaking things off in the middle of the streets inside of somewhere private or inside a restaurant as the girl sobbed into your arms,

"Shh, it's alright you deserve better, someone with manners!"

You said patting her back, glaring at the unmannered former lover while Susan groaned from her seat, you just had to butt into other people's business didn't you!

Like she didn't do the same at times.

......

"You uncultured, red-40 looking, bad dental hygiene, modern technology radio man!"

Susan raised her cane to the Radio Deer man, you had just entered Rosie's Emporium for a snack,

"Susan! No! That is terribly rude!"

You shouted dashing over quickly before Susan could do anything, pushing down her cane, while apologizing,

"My apologies! I'll escort her out, here buy yourself something tasty"

You said taking the radio demons hand and placing some money and a few pieces of candy into it before linking an arm with Susan and taking her outside while scolding her as she grumbled, leaving the Radio demon lowkey stunned and missing his mother.

You were how he imagined she would've been if she lived to be elderly.

.....

"For fuck's sake! Why are you in my house?"

Susan shouted as she walked into her kitchen only to see you adorned in an old lady apron chopping away at some vegetables while some type of meat simmered on the stove,

"Making us lunch obviously! I have news about that lovely gal we met on the street a few months ago! She's going steady with my nephew, the one with the good job not the one that's married, and I must tell you what her scandalous ex lover had to say-"

You rambled on, mixing up slang from different decades Susan could care less about the gal who was sobbing on the streets but you seemed to hellbent on telling her about the 'tea' as you called it.

.....

"Susie, let's listen to what the princess has to say before booing her off the stage, this is why she called you an old bitch''

You said linking an arm with Susan before shouting over at Charlie as Rosie pulled her aside,

"My apologies!"

You chased down Charlie at a later date to give her some candies for her troubles with Susan,

You paid visits to the hotel after that, bringing treats for the residents.

....

"Knitting is superior, it uses less yarn then your hook, knitting takes far more skill and that little crochet thing seems easier.''

Susan said knitting a scarf as you sat across from her, crocheting a net.

"Susie, you are my dearest friend and I love you, But I can and will surplex you into a wall if you say that again."

Hearing that while you wore the sweetest smile would strike fear into the average sinner.

......

"Are we thinking barbecue? Grilled? Perhaps baked? Oo I recently picked up some new seasonings we could try!"

You shouted over to Susan as you threw a net at an exorcist pulling them down and stabbing them with an angelic weapon before discarding them to the side to harvest their wings later,

"I don't give a donkeys ass as long as they taste good!"

.....

"Susie?"

"Hm?"

"I'm dying again."

"Don't be dramatic!''

She smacked you gently on the head with her cane as you broke out in laughter, angel wing in your hand and gold around your mouth.

Good evening folks! I am actively dangling Susan around like a keychain, I should invest in a Susan keychain, are Susan keychains a thing???

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#29: Never Seen Your Face Like That (S5E12)

I love that Rick and Michonne low-key tell on themselves in this scene lol. I can’t help but smile and laugh when watching this exchange cuz the attraction between them is BLATANT. Let me tell you, these two find each other hot and it’s clear as day lol. And it’s cute seeing them both try to be casual with it but not being able to resist reacting to each other with obvious attraction. Their pre-canon era was a time. 😋 It’s like this dance to keep things appearing 'platonic,' when they’re clearly feeling so much more...

At the start of the scene we see all of tf in this quiet moment, and then we hear Michonne’s satisfied sigh as she joins her family with a refreshed smile. Interestingly, she does not seem to be getting red flags about ASZ, whereas others are more on edge - which is understandable for them but also goes to show why Michonne’s gut instinct can always be trusted.

She asks how long she was in there for - and it seems rhetorical, but my sweet man Rick is going to tell on himself by giving an exact answer lol. I love that he’s the one to respond and that he doesn’t just say “a while” or a general answer. No - this man says “20 minutes.” She’s on his radar always. And it’s cute that this scene between them starts with talk of toothbrushes because we know how much "dental hygiene" will bless us in season 6. 😏

Michonne says she couldn’t stop brushing as Rick walks into frame, which I’ve always found cute cuz he knows this is the big reveal where she gets to see his clean-shaven face for the first time, especially after her whole “your face is losing the war” comments from s4.

I love that Sis literally has to pause as she notices his face. Who can blame her? And I always really appreciate that Rick actually let’s the moment breathe for a sec as she takes in his new look. We see later how he reacts when Deanna notices his face and says 'wow.' He’s much more dismissive or not wanting that attention on him - but with Michonne, he seems in a bashful way to really want her to see him and to like what she sees as he positions himself in better lighting with a slight smile.

And Michonne most definitely likes what she sees. Y’all, the way she is looking at him - He’s fine fine to her.  Like I've said before, from both of them, even during their best friends phase it was always giving 'that’s my hot best friend,' make no mistake. 

Michonne says this 'huh' that almost seems to slip out before her mind can filter, and that 'huh' suggests she certainly has some positive thoughts on Rick's new look.

I will forever love the way Danai delivers the line, “I’ve never, I’ve never seen your face like that.” It has that dash of smitten flirtiness that is just so adorable. And Michonne’s smile. 😊 The best. Her face says it all. It makes it loud and clear that she likes his new look a lot, and I love that she also vocally reacts to it.

Even just the pause between saying she’s never, she’s never seen his face like that. He got her a little flustered, and I’m here for it. No one but Rick Grimes is getting Michonne, queen of composure, smitten like this. 😋

And then Rick says how he felt the same way before and after as he walks in her direction and I think tries to idk play off all the attraction that’s being emitted from the two of them, but like it can’t ever be denied or downplayed.

(Side note: I know some of tf had to be up in this living room seeing Rick and Michonne reacting to each other like this and thinking...

And I just like that it’s clear what Michonne thinks of his face matters to him. Everything about her and what she thinks matters to Rick, as not just his bestie but as something more too. 

(Also, tell me it's not just me who will see pre-canon scenes like this one and just stop to take a moment to marvel at the fact that these two went on to have a baby together. It never fails to bring me joy. 🤗)

And what Rick thinks also matters to Michonne, cuz she stops him and tells him she gets why they’re playing it safe and “we should,” which lets you know that no matter how much she wants this place to work, she’s with Rick first and foremost. But she has a good feeling about this place, because Michonne is always right. And considering this place will be where she and him finally have room to build a home, rediscover their humanity, enjoy their romance, and expand their family - she was definitely right to have a good feeling about this place. 👌🏽

Rick responds saying he hopes Michonne is right, which again cements how a huge reason all of them are even at ASZ is because Rick wanted to give Michonne’s way a chance. He’s still in many ways going off of her gut over his own, and I love that he trusts her that much to do that and wants her to be right. That’s a special influence reserved just for her. And Michonne responds "yeah, me too" cuz she also knows how it was her push to go here that led them here.

Watching this whole scene back - this is such a couple-y moment between them. If you would have told me this was post-canon I’d believe you because this whole scene was giving couple.  Like every second was saying...

The Deanna moment comes directly after this scene between Rick and Michonne and it’s this immediate contrast between how Rick reacts to Michonne noticing his face and the groan he gives Deanna when she notices.

I also like that Deanna drops her first hint that she’s a Richonner when she tells Rick she’s given him a job she just hasn’t told him yet, “same with Michonne.” As I've said before, I’ll always love how Deanna, renowned for getting a good read on people, immediately saw the similarities and partnership of Rick and Michonne and paired them together in the same job. She knew they go together. (Also the scene ends with Deanna telling Rick he looks good, which again is another sign she has good judgment lol. 💁🏽‍♀️)

I love how often Richonne would have these Richonne bubble moments in front of all tf in s5. Like it occurs quite a bit cuz they can’t help it. And this is one of those pre-canon scenes where you just know these two are destined to become a couple. Because Rick and Michonne love and trust each other, but also really want and desire each other too. 😌

[hanaonesflower]

Synopsis: Nanami misses his girlfriend while being on a business trip, he decides to leave early so he could come home and fuck her, shows her how much he wanted her.

Note/message: I MISS THIS APP SO MUCH!!!!! This semester at school gave me a mf ass beating but hey I’m still alive and I’m back w a piece for nanami. Ofc I would write for Nanami bc I’m OBSESSED with him but yll already knew this! Also, happy new year!! <33

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No but can you imagine Nanami, blonde, pretty, stoic business man, begging on his knees for you? He hates business trips, he hates his job in general but what else is new. This past trip was absolutely brutal, he had the worst jet lag, his coworkers didn’t know when to shut up and stop being a nuisance, his boss attempted at bonding activities for the team but Nanami wanted nothing to do with it. He couldn’t even get to have a hotel room to himself, having to share them with other men whom he found to be hygienically incompetent.

The trip would have been 10 days but by half way into it, Nanami felt like he couldn’t take it anymore. He found himself tugging and pawing at his throbbing cock in the middle of an importing board meeting when he suddenly had a thought of the video you sent him last night. A naughty strip tease in the new lingerie you had purchased to surprise him with for when he arrived home but it just couldn’t wait.

He was reminiscent of the way your body moved and how skin was shaped by the lingerie. Each part of the lace fabric covering a part of you that made his mouth water just thinking about it. You were so, so goddamn pretty he couldn’t contain his urges when the time was the most inappropriate. He was counting down the minute it would take for the meeting to adjourn, 15 minutes felt like an eternity for Nanami. He debated requesting his boss to let him attend the rest of this business trip via a web call and head home early. Which his boss surprisingly agreed upon.

He took another look at the videos you sent him, virtually keeping him company as he locked himself in the plane’s lavatory. A palm on his dick, rubbing the fabric against his skin, the friction was getting too pleasurable. Cumming now felt like a betrayal to you, Nanami knew what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you but his loyalty was boundless. Shutting off his phone and sliding them back into his pocket, splashing some water on his face before taking deep breaths. He left the confined cubicle and returned to his seat. And yes, he was still throbbing with need and desperation.

The minute his taxi came to a halt at the front door of your home, he bolted out, almost forgetting his own luggage in the car. He thanked the driver hastily before dashing towards the front door. His excitement was as high as ever seeing your car parked on the driveway.

He swung the door open to you lounging around the house in your prettiest loungewear you showed off to him right before his departure a few days ago.

“Kento! You’re home early!” Your excitement was met very much with his big, strong arms as he braced you plush to his broad chest. You smelled him, he smelled like gas and stale cigarettes and the airplane air. But you could still smell him.

Nanami always smelt like old pine and musk, with a dash of eucalyptus. You nuzzled your face closely, taking him all in. Relishing this moment in his arms, tightly wrapped around you.

“Sweetheart, I missed you,” he groaned out. His tone wasn’t neutral. It held much of his unmet needs these past few days, combined with pent up frustration and the amount of blue balls he’d given himself. He sounded desperate. He dragged his lips against yours, despite being a little chapped, he thought they were delicious.

It didn’t take long before he shoved his tongue in your mouth, explored your mouth and shoved it hard down your throat. He came to the conclusion that no matter what, he would never get enough of you. Usually, Nanami was gentle, treating you like fragile glass, with the tendency to break with any miscalculation. But today, he was still to risk it, knowing he could fix you.

Swinging your legs around his torso, he carried you toward the couch, tongue still unwilling to relinquish its place in your mouth. You moaned into his, that roused something within him.

“I’m going to take you, right here, right now.”

Getting down on his knees, eyes oozing with plea and bargain, hands hungrily grabbed at your tender flesh, squeezing and feeling all that he had been missing these past few days.

“Kento, please, use me baby,” so pliant, so suggestible when you were like this. Legs slowly spread open for him, your essence drove him out of his mind. Eyes focused on your glistening pussy, god, he fucking loved this.

“Baby, you’ve been missing me, too, haven’t you?” Diving head first into your pussy, he no longer abided by his strategic demeanor. He was messy, careless, utterly chaotic. Tongue lapping away at your essence, smearing your wetness across your thighs and littering bruising kisses on them.

“Tell me you want me, too, baby,” he smirked.

“I want you, I want you so bad, Kento baby please,” you pleaded with tears in your eyes. Nanami didn’t have a degrading kink but he thought that having you completely at his mercy provoked the corrupted side of his.

He worked his magic down there, ripping orgasms out of you mercilessly. Your legs quiver under his stimulation, unable to withstand it yet unable to let go. He took advantage of it, of you. You tugged at his pants, his cock sprang free, the beaded precum on the tip made you drool. Wiping at it with your thumb and shoving it in your mouth. Your dainty fingers wrapped around his hardened dick, searching and feeling each vein decorating his shaft. You brought it upon your mouth, tonguing it down, pushing it down your esophagus and then some. Nanami didn’t like to be rough with you, but your eyes told him you wanted him to be; so he firmly locked your head in with his hands and drilled his hips into your mouth, down your throat until you formed fat tears.

“ I love it when you whore yourself out for me, baby.”

[luxlightly]

At least 3 people on my dash are really into Disco Elysium and post about it nearly constantly and despite the fact they've reblogged and posted many in depth discussion of characters and themes, the only thing I can confidently seem to tell the game is about is that there's a guy named Kim who has a jacket and there's a guy named DuBois who has amnesia, is drunk, unwashed, and overall just a scruffy mess of bad hygiene whose brain and body seem to be actively attempting to thwart his every move and Kim is like "Ooooooh I can't *not* fuck him."

[linkeduniverse-writing]

General LU Headcanons Part 2

Here's part 2 of my general headcanons and how I see/write the boys! This one will have Sky Warrior and Wild!

Part 1 Part 3

Sky

Always sleep the exact amount of time needed to feel fully rested

He won't wake up before that, unless they're under attack of course

He's a really heavy sleeper and snores quite a bit

He doesn't know what to think of the fact that destroying his stuff has become kind of a habit now

Between Hyrule showing off, Wild cooking with explosives, of all things, and Time accidentally dropping his bag into a pit

He's not even upset about it, because they've all been accidents, and nothing valuable has been lost, but still

They always help him get his stuff back, but it just keeps happening for some reasons

He starts to think it's payback for Demise's curse

He loves getting lost in towns

It's a way of discovering a new place that he grew fond of, for some reason

Especially when he finds little places in towns that are clearly not visited often, it feels like he discovered a beautiful little secret

He feels special

He'll sometimes try to get or carve a little trinket to the others from places they've been to, as he's really into gift giving

He has a lot of composure when it comes to injuries, but he doesn't like the smell of it

He'll help if they need to, but he'd rather do the caregiving part than first aid

It's even worse with illnesses

He gets kind of paranoid, but at least that makes him really good at keeping a good hygiene, even in a not so clean environment

He won't be on babysitting duty if germs are involved, but he'll keep everything nice and clean to make sure no one else contracts it

Warrior

Light sleeper

He moves a lot in his sleep, and sometimes wakes himself up like that

He's one of the first one to rise up in the morning but always stays in bed late

He likes listening to the sounds of the world still peacefully asleep around him

Despite being a high graded knight, he doesn't easily trust the military

Or maybe it's because he's so high ranked that he can see how corruptible it can be

And after hearing some of the stories the other told him, he's even more on guard

He does trust his soldiers tho, and hopes his teammates will trust them too if they end up in his Hyrule

He always indulges in shenanigans when Wind is the one asking for it

Hyrule can wear him down too, but not as much

He pretends it's to keep an eye on them, but the guy loves his fun too

Very fond of old people

Will always help them carry groceries or cross a road or something

And always with a dashing smile. They reward him with candy sometimes, and he keeps it all to himself

He knows how to charm his way into getting answers from people, but he sucks at bargaining and can get scammed easily, which is why Legend comes with him whenever they need a supply run

He learned first aid during the War, and learned to improvise when he needed to, so he's the first one to start checking on everyone after a fight

He'll do a general check up on everyone, rank injuries by severity, and then get to work to tend to them

If at least two others are in good enough shape, he'll point them to where they need to help, so everyone can be taken care of before it gets too bad

Hyrule's composure and Wild's endless potion stash are his best allies in this situation

Wild

Nightmares

He swear they're more memories than nightmares

He rarely remembers them, to his endless frustration

He wakes up early most of the time, but often in a good mood

He loves making breakfast for everyone, but loves it even more when one of them joins him to help

He just likes sharing stuff he knows, so sharing knowledge about his favorite activity? Sign him up

He kind of stopped hoping he could teach anything about cooking to Hyrule tho, but he understands potion crafting at least

Wild makes most of them so they don't have to buy them

He doesn't know shit about traditional medecine tho, he runs on potions only

Very ingenious, but always in the wrong way

As in, he has a curious mind and good ideas, but it's always to do some fucked up dangerous stunt

Twilight tries to stop him most of the time, but he lost all of his authority on him the day they all learned he shot himself out of a canon on his first adventure

Wild has been on the loose since then

He often go on exploring trips on his own when they set up camp in a new place, he needs his alone time

He loves the group! But he got used to being alone for months, and sometimes being around that many people for too long can be too much

They don't mind, tho

Ironically, he hates seeing injuries, but doesn't mind scavenging monster viscera to make stronger potions

A broken finger? A deep cut? He's not looking

But butchering a bokoblin and carving out its organs with a rusty knife? Yeah why not

He wishes he had more time to craft more potions, or to go collect more materials for said potions

So he could just hand over the potions to everyone instead of holding onto wet bandages to stop the bleedings, or hold his friend down when his other friend puts bones back in place

It's gross. He's gonna focus on the potions

[parmawiolets]

Fruit Salad

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie Munson's ex-not-quite-girlfriend Hannah Newby is pregnant. But it's not his. And she won't say whose it is. Very slow burn. Exes to friends to (eventual) lovers.

A/N: Chapter 2 of my first ever fic! Still not really sure why I decided to do such a big project for my first, but I'm enjoying it! Again, thank you soooo much to @shybunnie20 for being absolutely wonderful and helping me so much. Definitely go check out her work, she's amazing.

Contents: No upside down. Pregnancy. Fluff and angst. Reader is called Hannah because I didn't want to use Y/N but no physical description of reader (so maybe an OC? I don't know). Bob is her dad, because I love him. The Byers are still in Hawkins because I love them too.

Word count: 5.1K

Previous chapter

Chapter 2: Blueberry

Flashback to Hannah finding out she is pregnant. Lots of fluff, some angst.

July 4th, 1985 - 7 weeks pregnant

— 

Jules is worried about Hannah.

Hannah has been nauseous for over a month. And more irritable than usual. If Jules thinks back on it, it's also been a while since Hannah has complained of cramps. 

Jules thinks she knows what's going on. She just doesn't know how to broach it with Hannah.

—

Jules is standing in the feminine hygiene section of Melvad's, pretending to mull over two different boxes of tampons, waiting for the other woman in the aisle to just leave already. How long does it take to choose a deodorant?

The woman finally seems to decide and shuffles away to a different part of the store. In a flash, Jules is where she wants to be.

Shit.

Why are there so many different ones?

Does it make a difference?

Jules quickly looks around to check the coast is still clear, and opts for the second cheapest. She gets two. Just to be sure.

She struggles to hold the boxes conspicuously, so dashes back to where she had been standing and grabs a box of tampons to hold in front. No one's going to look too close at that.

Jules makes her way to the end of the aisle and peeks around the corner. Hannah's dad's girlfriend is working one of the tills. Jules knows Hannah likes her, and she seems to keep out of the small town gossip. Jules hasn't taken her driving test yet, so she can't get to the next town over on her own. This is her best bet at discretion.

"Hi Joyce." Jules puts down her purchases; tampon box on top, and reaches for a brown paper bag.

"Oh, hi sweetie." Joyce starts scanning. "How are-" Joyce's eyes snap to Jules' as she picks up the second item. Joyce clears her throat. "How are you doing?" She quickly scans the offending items and reaches over and drops them in the bag.

"Oh, um, yeah, you know." Jules grimaces at her stuttering.

"Mmhm." Joyce gives Jules her total, and takes the money offered.

"How about you?" Jules attempts a smile.

"I'm good, sweetie. Thank you." Joyce takes Jules' hand as she gives back the change and drops her voice. "You let me know if you need anything, ok?"

Jules nods her head quickly, giving a weak smile, and dashes out the door. "Bye, Joyce." 

She runs all the way to Hannah's house.

—

"I thought it would be fun!"

Hannah eyes Jules skeptically and deadpans, "You thought it would be fun."

"Yeah!" Jules grimaces, forcing out a laugh. "Who hasn't always wanted to pee on a stick, right?"

Hannah slowly raises her hand. "Uh… me?"

"Come on, it will be great!" Jules grabs her by the arm and starts pulling her towards the bathroom.

"Jules! What? No!" Hannah pulls her arm from her friend's grasp. "What's going on? Are you ok?" Her eyes widen. "Oh god, do you think you're-"

"No! I think you are!" Jules slaps her hand over her mouth. "Shit. I'm sorry. There was definitely a better way to do this, but I'm panicking now. You've been nauseous and more grumpy than usual and you haven't complained about cramps in ages."

Hannah is frozen. Staring straight ahead with a look of pure horror on her face.

"Han, please don't freak out." She reaches out and takes Hannah's hand. "Not yet anyway." She laughs weakly.

Five minutes later, the two girls are sat on the bathroom floor, shoulders pressed together, leaning against the bath. Hannah is hugging her legs with her forehead on her knees.

"How much longer?" 

"30 seconds."

Jules' hand is circled around Hannah's ankle in an attempt to comfort. She doesn't want to overwhelm her, but wants her to know she's not alone. She gives it a squeeze. "Times up." Jules is whispering. "Do you want me to look?" 

Hannah takes a deep breath and leans her head back. "No, I can do it." She picks up the stick, not looking at it. "What am I looking for again?"

"Two lines means pregnant."

Hannah scrunches her eyes closed and takes another deep, steadying breath. She opens her eyes and sees two lines staring back at her.

—

Jules is still worried about Hannah. She hasn't spoken in nearly half an hour. The pair are lying side by side on Hannah's bedroom floor, hands linked between them. 

Jules tests the waters by squeezing Hannah’s hand. Hannah crushes hers in response.

“Han, I need you to tell me what you need. Do you want to stay like this for a while, or do you want a hug? Or a cry, maybe? Food?”

Hannah lets out a shuddering breath and tears slip out down her temples. 

“Do you want me to call your dad? Or, um, Eddie?”

Hannah groans. “I’m supposed to go to the carnival with Eddie tonight. We were going to watch the fireworks from the ferris wheel.”

“That sounds nice.” Jules likes Eddie. Likes him for Hannah. She’s watched Hannah grow comfortable around him, which is rare for her. Hannah finds it difficult to let people in and let them see her vulnerable side. Jules has relished watching Hannah’s irritation at Eddie worming his way past her defences. She always worried that Hannah would push away anyone good for her, for fear of getting hurt. Eddie's determined though, and he’s good for her.

“Shit!” Hannah shoots up with a look of horror on her face. 

“Shit, what? Han, what?”

Hannah stares at her best friend, her eyes filling with more tears. “I don’t know whose it is.”

Jules freezes for half a second, then springs into action, scrambling to her feet. “Ok, we can definitely figure this out. We’re just talking about the two guys, right?”

Hannah nods, yes.

“Did they overlap at all?”

Hannah shakes her head, no.

“When was your last period? And any missed ones.”

Hannah rushes over to the calendar on her wall and flips through it, looking for the last time she drew a little star on a date. “I’ve missed two periods. A week and a half ago, and the month before that.”

“And how long have you been sleeping with Eddie?”

“Less than a month.” Hannah’s face falls. Tears spill from her eyes again. “Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, this just got so much worse.”

Jules pulls her into a tight hug. “No, hey, no we’re gonna figure this out, right? It’s all going to be fine. I’ve got you, ok?” Her own eyes are welling up now, the worry she was feeling earlier is nothing compared to now. “There’s options, right? You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to, but I will be here whatever you decide.” She pulls back and holds Hannah by her shoulders. “Ok?”

Hannah sniffs and wipes her cheeks. “I can’t think about any of that right now.”

Jules tucks a lock of hair behind Hannah’s ear. “You don’t have to.”

“I need to- Shit. I need…” Hannah buries her face in her hands and her voice comes out muffled. “I need to break it off with Eddie.”

Jules’ heart breaks for her best friend. “Are you sure? You can wait, if you want to. Since you don’t even know if you’re keeping it yet. I know how much you like him.”

Hannah shakes her head. “No, I don’t want him involved when he doesn’t have to be.” She rubs at her eyes. “I don’t want him to feel like the bad guy if he doesn't want anything to do with me; or, god, feel some weird obligation to be with me.” Hannah drops down onto the edge of her bed. “If I decide to… y’know, then I’ll talk to him about it. But not before I know what I’m doing.”

Jules sits next to her and takes her hand again.

Hannah sniffs. “And there’s no way I could avoid him until then if I don’t. The boy would just break down my door if I tried to dodge his calls.” She lets out a watery chuckle.

Jules smiles sadly. “You really like him, huh.”

“Yeah,” Hannah huffs. “It’s gross.”

—

Wayne Munson is getting himself ready to go to work when there’s a knock at his trailer door. He finishes tugging on his worn work boots and puts an unlit cigarette between his lips before stomping over and opening the door.

His gruff, furrowed face brightens immediately upon seeing Hannah standing nervously on the other side. “Hannah, darlin’. Come on in.” Wayne turns to the side and swaps places with her. “I was just heading out. Ed’s in his room, so just head on through.” 

Wayne lights his cigarette as he watches Hannah look warily into the trailer. She’s often quiet, and a little prickly sometimes; Wayne thinks she’s a little like him in that way. But right now, she just seems anxious.

“You alright darlin’?”

Hannah’s wide eyes turn to him. “Mmhm.”

“Well, like I said, you just head on back. Let Ed know I’ve left for work, will you?”

Hannah nods. “Yeah, sure.”

He eyes Hannah again, unconvinced. But he has to get to work. Wayne raises his cigarette in a wave and shuts the door behind him, leaving Hannah alone in the quiet room.

Hannah takes a moment to steady herself. She looks around the snug trailer. She loves this place. It’s always so homey and welcoming. The Munsons clearly take care of their home and their belongings. Everything is well loved and well kept. 

It’s at least a full minute before she moves again, toeing off her shoes and creeping down the small hallway towards Eddie’s bedroom door. She doesn’t want to alert him to her presence yet. She wants to delay what she came to do for as long as she can. Hannah knows she should do it, knows it’s the right thing to do. But she wants to be selfish. She wants to indulge in Eddie and live in denial for a little while longer.

“Eds?” Hannah’s voice is soft as she pushes the door open, peering into the dimly lit room.

The main light is switched off, the blinds closed. The only light in the room comes from the small lamp on the cluttered desk that Eddie is hunched over, headphones over his ears and Hannah can hear the deafening blast of whatever music he is listening to. Eddie’s hair is tucked behind his ears to allow for the foam pads from his walkman. Even from her angle, he looks adorable. She longs to run her hands through his hair; twirl a spiral of it around her finger; pull at it and hear him moan. A muscle by his shoulder blade twitches as he furiously scribbles at a drawing. Hannah is itching to run her hands over his sinewy back and drape herself over his shoulders. She wants to wrap herself around him. Surround herself with him and never leave.

But she can’t bring herself to.

Instead, Hannah shuffles towards him and walks two fingers across his shoulder before laying her palm on it when he jumps, whipping off his headphones and turning in his chair.

“Hi Eds,” she lets out in a breath.

“Sweetheart!”

Hannah winces at his shout.

“Shit,” Eddie looks around. “Am I late? Wait, did you walk here? I'm supposed to come and pick you up. Jesus Christ, how late am I?!"

Hannah turns Eddie's chair to fully face her and moves between his spread legs. She puts both hands on his shoulders and squeezes, digging her thumbs into the dips in his collarbones. "You're ok, I'm early." Her voice is still soft despite Eddie's volume.

Eddie's voice joins hers in a murmur. "Well, shit, sweetheart." He takes one of her hands from his shoulder and holds it to his chest, massaging his thumb into her palm. "You should have called, I would've picked you up early if you wanted." 

She shrugs. "I wanted to walk. It's still light out." 

Hannah turns her attention to his desk, eyeing the drawings splayed across the surface.

"Did you want to go early? The fireworks aren't for a few hours yet, but we can go and look around for a while if you want."

She shakes her head. 

Hannah’s hand moves from Eddie’s shoulder to drift over his drawings. A vicious, sharp-toothed mermaid; a snarling, fire breathing dragon; a grotesque zombie, flesh dripping from its bones. 

“These are really good, Eds.”

The tops of Eddie’s ear burn red and he grins bashfully. “Thanks Han.” He kisses her captive hand. “Got nothing on you though.”

Hannah frowns. “Don’t do that.” She pinches his bicep, causing Eddie to yelp.

Eddie studies her for a moment, she seems off. "You ok?" He reaches up and takes her chin between his forefinger and thumb, skimming her chin with the pad. 

This is when she should tell him. She should break it off now. It's the right thing to do.

Eddie can see that Hannah's eyes have glazed over; she's gone somewhere else in her mind. Eddie stands up and cups her shoulders, bringing her attention back to him.

"Listen, I know you really wanted to go to this thing tonight," He's lying, they both know it. It was him that suggested it. "But I'm pretty beat. Would it be ok if we stayed in and watched movies? We could order a pizza and just veg out."

She shouldn't. It’s selfish.

"Yeah, ok."

—

As Eddie opens the fridge to grab two sodas, he peers into the living room at Hannah settling on one end of the couch. He can tell something is up, but he knows better by now than to press. They’re still getting to know each other, but after hooking up for several weeks, Eddie knows he needs to warm her up when she gets like this. If he lays too much affection on her too quickly, she’ll freeze up and push him away. 

Hannah is squirming on the couch trying to get comfortable. She slouches in the seat, then sits up straight, then crosses her legs. She’s wriggled between at least five different positions by the time she looks up and realises Eddie is standing next to the couch and watching her with an amused expression. 

“Comfy?”

Her face flushes and she nods sheepishly. Hannah tucks her legs underneath her and sits still. 

Eddie puts the cans and some napkins down on the small table in front of them and sits down beside her. He leaves a small space between them, but takes one of her hands in both of his and holds it to his chest. He can see that Hannah is still stuck in her head. Eddie hums a soft melody and runs one calloused palm back and forth along her forearm, kneading with his fingertips. 

He watches Hannah’s face carefully for her reaction. She blinks a few times, coming back to herself, and looks over at Eddie, resting her head against the couch cushion. 

Eddie's voice is a murmur, "I ordered one plain, one pepperoni. Wayne can eat whatever we don't when he gets in tomorrow."

Hannah hums in acknowledgement and leans in slightly towards Eddie. "I'm sorry for making you miss the fireworks." 

Hannah is speaking so quietly, Eddie has to lean in too. But he copies her speech. "Nothing to apologise for, Han." He wants to say that it doesn't matter as long as he's with her, but instead he tempers his sentiment. "I'd rather do pizza and a movie anyway." 

She understands what Eddie isn't saying. "Me too." 

Eddie resumes his tune. Along with the drone of the AC unit in the window, and the buzz of Eddie's hand along her arm, Hannah is starting to relax. She decides to deal with real life tomorrow. Right now, she wants to stay in denial; stay in this moment with Eddie.

Eddie's ears perk up as he hears the crunch of tyres coming from outside. He doesn't want knocking to burst their peaceful bubble, so he squeezes Hannah's hand and places it in her lap, bounding off the couch and opening the door before the pizza guy is even up the porch steps. Eddie pays and thanks him before padding back to Hannah, placing the boxes on the table and flopping down next to her with a grunt. This causes Hannah to fall towards him, shoulder to shoulder. 

Eddie’s heart sinks when she immediately sits up and away from him again, but he smiles when he sees her shining eyes as she zeroes in on the pizza. Hannah pulls out two slices and passes one to him. When she settles back into the couch, she rests her back against his arm, and wiggles until he takes the hint and puts it around her. A small smile on her face, Hannah raises her pizza to Eddie. “Cheers.”

Eddie chuckles and taps his slice to hers. “Cheers, sweetheart.” He nudges his temple against hers and she turns to press her forehead to his.

—

Hours later, The Princess Bride is quietly playing on the TV across the room from the couch, where Hannah is now laying on top of Eddie; him flat on his back with her cheek to his chest, torsos pressed together and her hips between his raised knees. Eddie is running one hand up and down her back. His other is entwined with Hannah’s, hanging down to the floor as she plays with the rings on his fingers.

This is Eddie’s favourite version of Hannah: soft; warm; affectionate.

Eddie’s hand drifts further up Hannah’s back into her hair and scratches at her scalp. She hums and nuzzles into Eddie’s touch. She props her chin on his chest, gazing up at him. Her free hand reaches out and begins tracing aspects of him with her fingers, skimming over his soft cheeks and strong jawline. She presses her thumb into the dip in his chin and her fingertips whisper along the skin under his eye, admiring his faint crows feet and the light smattering of freckles. Hannah ventures further up, hungry for more of him; she pushes her fingers into his bangs and sweeps her thumb across his forehead, smoothing out the crinkles from his concentration on the movie.

Eddie turns away from the TV with a smirk. "Help you?"

Hannah's index finger ghosts over his plump, pink mouth and settles in his dimple. "Just looking." A fond expression on her face. "You're so pretty, Eds."

The tops of his cheeks bloom pink. Hannah's fingers dance across the blush, giggling at the effect her words have had.

Eddie cups the back of Hannah’s head. “Can’t compare to you, sweetheart.”

“Fuck off.” She’s beaming now.

Hannah shifts her weight back onto her knees and crawls forward, nestling into the crook of Eddie’s neck. She places a kiss behind his ear. Eddie makes a happy noise from the back of his throat and hugs her closer. Hannah pulls back slightly and dots kisses over his face, both of them giggling, their faces pink with affection. Her kisses follow the path of her fingers before finally pressing a soft kiss to his lips. She goes to pull away, but Eddie threads his fingers through her hair and pulls her back to kiss him again. 

She’s fully indulging herself now. Being greedy.

"You know,” Hannah’s lips brush Eddie’s as she speaks. “If we went outside, we could probably see the fireworks when they start."

"Yeah?” Eddie grins. “You want to?"

Hannah nods eagerly.

Immediately, Eddie rolls them both off the couch, Hannah screeches at the sudden fall. He jumps up, standing over her in a heap on the floor. 

“Jerk!” Hannah kicks out at Eddie and he catches her by the ankle. “Let me go!” She whines, grabbing at him as he laughs.

“C’mere.” Eddie captures Hannah’s hands and hauls her up into an embrace. He cups her face and smacks a kiss to her mouth. 

Eddie thinks for a moment. "Trust me?"

"Well that's never a good start to anything."

He cackles. "I'm taking that as a yes." 

Eddie pulls her to the front door. The pair of them scramble to put their shoes on, giddy at the prospect of doing something foolish. They stumble through the door and Eddie drags Hannah by the hand around the side of the trailer where he gets down on one knee under an open window. He taps his thigh and looks up at Hannah expectantly.

“I… don’t understand what’s happening right now.”

Eddie grins wickedly. “We’re going up, sweetheart.”

“Fuck that. No.”

“C’mon, we’ll have the best view from up there!” He pouts at her, using his best puppy dog eyes.

Hannah groans, but moves to step up onto his leg, mumbling about “those fucking eyes.” 

“Ok, now step onto the windowsill, and I’ll push you up onto the roof.”

Hannah grunts as she heaves herself up and clings onto the edge of the tin roof by her fingers. “If this is just an excuse to feel me up, I’m gonna kill you.”

Eddie gasps dramatically. “Me? I’m the picture of integrity, Han.” He grips her by the hips and encourages her upwards, giving her a tap on the ass as she wiggles over the edge into a heap on the roof.

“Perv!" 

Eddie appears a few moments later and collapses on top of her; forearms braced either side of her head. “You love it.” He buries his face in her neck, making her squeal as he blows raspberries against her skin.

They're interrupted by a loud boom echoing through the trailer park.

"Shit, it's starting! Get off me!"

They scramble up to face the fireworks exploding in the sky. Eddie sits with his legs spread out and pats the space between them for Hannah to sit. She settles with her back to his chest and he wraps his arms around her front, pulling her flush to him, his chin resting on her shoulder as she hugs one of his arms tightly.

The pair stay like that, watching the rest of the fireworks display, Eddie occasionally pressing kisses to Hannah's shoulder and neck. When the last bang rings out and the sparkles fade, they remain silent for a while, enjoying the quiet of the trailer park; all the other residents probably at the fair. 

Eddie burrows his face into Hannah's hair. "Do you want to stay up here for a bit longer or go back inside?"

Hannah turns her head to nuzzle him back. "Maybe we should go inside. I can't feel my butt." 

"Oh thank god, me neither!" 

Both of them fall to the side, giggling. Eddie manoeuvres them so that Hannah is laid out beneath him. He cradles the back of her head, weight braced on his forearm, with his other hand on her waist. He nudges his nose against hers and she lifts her chin to press a sweet kiss to his lips. 

Eddie draws back a little, his gaze flicking between her hazy, adoring eyes. "Do you want to talk about whatever is going on with you?"

Hannah stiffens and her eyes snap fully open.

"Shit." He fucked up. "Han, I-"

Hannah sits up, pushing Eddie back onto his heels. She presses her palms to her eyes and huffs. "I shouldn't… we should… fuck-" Hannah looks around. "Can we get down, please?"

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.”

Eddie scrambles to the edge of the roof and over, landing with a grunt, and then turns back and helps Hannah slide down. The second her feet touch the ground, Hannah rushes off around the trailer, up the porch steps, and through the front door. She stops in the threshold, hugging her arms to her chest. Eddie scurries after her.

Eddie steps up behind Hannah. “Hey, look, I’m sorry.” He coos, turning her around gently. “Let’s forget about it, ok? We can just finish the movie.” He desperately doesn’t want her to leave. He doesn’t want to lose that closeness, that loving version of Hannah he just had.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Eddie. It’s my fault, I know I’m being weird.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Hannah stiffens again and whispers, “I can’t. Not right now.”

“Sweetheart… please?” Eddie pulls her to him by the waist, cradling her head with his other hand, pushing his thumb into her cheek. “You’re worrying me now.”

"Listen, I've just… I've got some stuff going on. And," she puts her palms flat on his chest and steps back from him. "It means I won't be able to see you. For a while, at least."

"What?"

"Eddie," she pleads, eyes darting around the room. "I can't explain right now, ok?" 

He steps closer to her again. "Han, look at me." He grips her hands in his and ducks his head to catch her gaze. “Please, talk to me. I just want to help.”

Hannah squirms. “I don’t need-”

“I know! I know you don’t need help, Hannah! But I want to.”

She looks up at Eddie, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

Eddie splutters. “Why?! Because we’re-” he gestures between them. “Because I like you! I really fucking like you!” He’s gesturing wildly now. 

Hannah buries her face in her palms, her voice muffled. “I know, Eddie and I really- I- FUCK!” She throws her hands out, her eyes glassy now. “Why do I find this so fucking hard!”

“Hey, it’s ok-”

“No! It’s not, Eddie!” Hannah swipes at her eyes. “I’m emotionally stunted. I’m grumpy and irritable and I can’t express my fucking feelings.” She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “I just need some space, Eddie. I’m sorry I just can’t say why right now.”

“Sweetheart, you’re really worrying me.” Eddie goes to cradle Hannah’s face again, but she immediately pushes him back.

“Stop, Eddie. I don’t need you to worry about me.”

Eddie is having trouble tempering his emotions. He just wants to help. “Well, tough shit, Han! You can’t exactly stop me caring about you.”

"You're not my boyfriend!"

They both freeze. She shouldn't have said that. She didn't mean it like that.

"Shit. Eds-"

"No.” He cuts her off. “You're right. I'm not your boyfriend." Eddie's voice is quiet, but icy. His eyes hard. "I'm just some guy you’ve been fucking."

Hannah flinches at the venom in his words. "No, you’re not- I didn't- I can't… I just can't!"

"Right, my bad. The ice queen can't have a boyfriend. She'd need to have actual feelings for that."

Hurt flashes across Hannah's face and she blinks back the tears threatening to spill. Her voice is strained when she speaks. "I should-" she clears her throat. "I'm gonna go." 

“Fine.”

Hannah steps past Eddie to the door. He doesn’t move to stop her.

“Bye, Eds.”

Hannah closes the door behind her and trudges down the steps. She takes a shuddering breath and rubs at her eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“Son of a BITCH!” 

The exclamation is muffled from inside the trailer, but still makes Hannah jump. Seconds later, the door slams open and Eddie stomps after her with his keys in hand.

“If you think I’m letting you walk home in the dark, you’re a moron as well as an asshole.”

Hannah lets out a strangled noise halfway between a laugh and a sob, tears finally spilling over her cheeks. She rushes to Eddie and throws her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. The action knocks the wind out of him.

Eddie sighs, but doesn’t hesitate to hug her back.

“C’mon sweetheart. Let’s get you home.”

Hannah pulls back and nods, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

Eddie takes Hannah’s hand and leads her to the passenger side of the van. He helps her up and closes the door behind her before rounding the front and pulling himself into his seat. He starts up the van, but immediately shuts off the music, choosing to drive in silence in the hope that Hannah might start talking to him.

As the van pulls out of the trailer park, Hannah reaches over and takes his right hand, holding it in her lap. She knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help it. She wants to indulge in little bits of him while she still can. Hannah twists the lone ring on this hand around his finger.

After a little while, Eddie breaks the silence.

“It’s my favourite, you know.” Eddie’s voice is low and he doesn’t look over at her.

Hannah doesn’t look at Eddie either, but continues to stare at his hand cradled in hers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “This really amazing girl got it for me. You probably don’t know her.”

"No?"

"Nah, she was actually nice to me."

Hannah scoffs. "Well that's just not true."

Eddie grins, but there's a sadness in it. He parks the van outside Hannah's house and finally turns to look at her.

"Hannah?"

Hannah stares blindly straight ahead out the windshield. If she looks at Eddie, she’ll definitely cave.

"Hannah, please just talk to me. Tell me what's going on. What can I do?"

If she tells him now, he might hate her. He might be angry and not want anything to do with her; which would hurt. Or he might stay with her out of pity; which would hurt more.

"Nothing, Eddie. There's nothing you can do." Hannah resumes fiddling with Eddie's ring. "I need some time to get my shit sorted."

"Can you at least tell me if you're ok?"

"Yeah, I'm…" She rests her head back on the seat and sighs. "I don't know. But I think I will be." 

That didn't reassure Eddie at all. "Do you at least have someone helping you? If it can't be me."

"I've got Jules. And I'm gonna talk to my dad." 

She wants to tell him she doesn't want to do this. She wants to ask if he'll let her be self-centred, let her be greedy and keep him. She thinks he'd say yes.

But that wouldn't be fair.

"I'll see you around, Eds." She squeezes his hand and opens the door, but pauses before getting out.

One more moment of indulging herself.

Hannah turns back to Eddie and leans over the centre console, pulling him towards her with a hand on his cheek. She presses her lips against his in a lingering kiss. Eddie sighs and holds her hand to keep her there a little longer. 

Their foreheads stay pressed together as their lips part, neither of them wanting the moment to end. Hannah places another soft peck to the corner of his mouth and whispers, "Bye Eddie."

[dissociacrip]

this turned into a long adhd rant whoopsie

it really does suck how people seem to downplay autism and adhd now lol. autism has been reduced to people who can mask and have low support needs and adhd hasn't really changed from its status as a joke.

i don't talk about adhd much but it probably gets in the way of me being able to function just as much, if not more than autism does (in my personal situation) when it comes to mental disability. not showering enough. not cooking. not cleaning my living space properly. forgetting to brush my teeth. dishes sitting in the sink for so long they start getting moldy. only being able to maybe do 1-3 tasks a day maximum because my brain can't organize itself enough to do more than that. difficulty committing to things and being consistent in overarching ways. being late to things a lot. highly impaired verbal recall so i forget things people say to me, forget verbal instructions, etc. on top of the other acutely stressful situations that come with memory and regulating my attention span (e.g. locking my keys in my car or locking myself out of my house when i have a very limited support network to remediate those situations.)

my meds barely touch this stuff for me and i'm not especially inclined to increase the dosage after bordering on psychosis when i was taking 40mg of vyvanse. i've just become so accustomed to living the way that i do (because my case is pretty bad afaik) so i can't just will myself to be another way. any efforts i make to change or be more organized and routine and consistent end up getting dashed away because i just cannot do it lol. my shit just doesn't work. adhd is a massive barrier between me and being a functioning person or being able to take care of myself. i'm pretty sure would still be a "gross" and unpalatable disabled person even if my muscles worked and i didn't have POTS/etc. that also get in the way of my hygiene and the cleanliness of my living space.

that doesn't even go into how other people react to it. a good chunk of physical and verbal abuse i faced from my family as a child was related to my adhd symptoms. i was diagnosed at a young age but my parents "forgot" it happened and it was never addressed otherwise. i got constantly called disgusting for my hygiene problems and was threatened with violence over it (on top of the times where i was actually getting assaulted.) people take my impaired verbal recall and lack of impulse control irt accidentally cutting people off or interrupting them personally, accusing me of not caring enough when it's something that is extremely difficult to be aware of or manage when adhd is a condition that distinctly involves impaired awareness of your own behavior.

so when i see shit like "just set alarms" or anything else that amounts to "you're not trying hard enough" or adhd not very much being a disability, especially when it's coming from other people w/ adhd, it kinda makes me wanna stab things with knives.

sure, it's not the worst condition ever, but just like most other disabilities, the way it affects everyone who is it is different and some are gonna be able to manage it better than others. sure, there a lot of really fucking annoying people (usually able-bodied) w/ adhd on social media that have large platforms and who very often profit from or encourage liberal pop psych bullshit when it comes to adhd, but it's still very much a disability. it can affect hygiene. it can affect employment or otherwise means of earning an income. it can affect our social lives and whether we have a support system. it can affect whether someone can keep their house from getting infested with bugs or mold. it is very much something that causes dysfunction in ways that aren't nearly as cutesy as the little comics you might see on instagram are drawn.

just remember that.

[pleuvoire]

actually can i say something. hygiene discourse has always made me feel like pure shit as someone whose executive dysfunction means i shower irregularly. every time a new post or article starts a new round of "ewww imagine not showering regularly or using deodorant i would vomit and kill myself if i had to spend two seconds next to someone like that how are you not ashamed of your very existence" posts on my dash i feel like a lesser lifeform and i feel like i can't even mention that i have trouble showering regularly or else my mutuals and followers will lose respect for me and no one will be on my side in this. fortunately i haven't had to see a round of this discourse in a while and i have since become more confident in my feeling that a lot of things people like to get superior about are quite ableist. so now i can post this openly without feeling too ashamed to mention it. it has always deeply rubbed me the wrong way that people will claim "oh i'm not making fun of disabled people who can't wash themselves every day, i'm making fun of people who can wash themselves every day and just choose not to" but the core of the mockery is still "ewww those gross people who don't wash themselves, so gross haha" so what's the difference in the end? you think people who struggle with showering look at those things and think "oh but i am exempt from this statement so it's fine ^_^"? you can't disclaimer your way out of that! fuck off!

[opinated-user]

so how many "oh an abusive and predatory relationship is okay if the victim is chill with it and the abuser feels bad" stories has lily written.

let's count! -Rainbow Dash and fluttershy. rainbow is a predator that has preyed in children and fluttershy keeps making excuses for her, never once doing anything about it, not even after rainbow abused their adoptive daugther. the abuse is more enabled by fluttershy than directed at her, but i'm counting it anyway. -twilight and ascentia/assana. twilight is a literal wife beater and rapist that also abuses their baby daughter, and ascentia/assana just forgives it. -alina and rey. alina goes out of her way to minimize and erase the trauma of rey after being child trafficked, fetishizes the lack of hygiene of her wife that really sounds symptoms of a deep depression and rey herself doesn't have anything outside of how alina will feel about it. not even his gender identity can be about anything else, but how alina feels about it, how alina informs him about it, how alina, a cis woman to make matters worse, knows better than him. the start of their relationship is all about alina taking advantage of their power umbalance in front of rey. -CLO and G. G is generally abusive, possesive, violent, on top of a multiple offender, and CLO herself is a neglectful owner that refuses to give her pokemon the mental health help she clearly needs. -CLO and CMO. just... awful writing. if you completely forget about how these characters are meant to be avatars for real people who are together, would you ever think that is a healthy relationship? CMO panics and begs CLO not to leave her because of a bad joke, CMO is mostly treated like absolute crap by G and CLO does nothing about it, and CLO herself treats her like a nuisance or an idiot who deserves to be looked down. there's very few moments i can think of where they acted like an actually loving couple. -Lord Ryder and Meg. you'd only know this if you read her oldest fanfic, but let me tell you: it's awful. Ryder basically treats Meg the exact same as how she's treated in the cartoon, but it's okay for no reason. he insults her, punches her, throws her around and at one point just stabs her through the gut because she said something sarcastic to him. -diantha and her gardevour. this one might be worse than all of them because the gardevour doesn't feel bad about it and the victim is not chill about it, but the author forces her to be on that abusive relationship anyway.

these are the ones off the top of my head, there might be more i'm forgetting.

[watatsumiis]

Some Pantalone headcanons <3

Some of my personal headcanons for Pantalone below the cut since my dash is flooded with him at the moment (as it should be)

Content warning for intrusive thoughts, mentions of skin/hair picking/pulling, compulsions, possible disordered eating.

Disclaimer: I write Pantalone as having OCD in this, please be aware that these traits aren't shared by everyone who has OCD, this is a set of headcanons that I have made based on personal experience and research, not a diagnostic list or a generalisation.

Pantalone has OCD - though he masks very well and keeps up his cool, unphased charade when around others, spending any significant amount of time around him and observing his behaviours makes it fairly clear.

He struggles quite badly with skin picking especially, his arms and shoulders are marked with faint scars, as well as his face, but he uses makeup to conceal it. This habit is a bit part of the reason why he wears gloves, so that it's harder for him to do so. He can sometimes get snappy with people who try to verbally remind him not to pick, but his anger is more directed at himself than anyone else, he just projects it outwards as a way of hiding his insecurities surrounding his struggles.

He twirls his hair absently, and occasionally may pick at his eyebrows or eyelashes when he's extremely stressed and overwhelmed. Sometimes he ends up with a tangled, matted fringe just because of how much he pulls and twirls at it.

Pantalone struggles back and forth with the way he views people like cleaners and cooks - logically he knows they are their own people, with their own families and quirks, but there's some part of his brain that just can't cope with that. He needs the 'relationship' to be purely transactional, almost clinical in nature - he can't know anything about the people who do those sorts of jobs, or else it just gnaws at his mind and wears on him until he has some kind of breakdown thanks to it. The more detached the worker, the better he copes. He doesn't know the name of his personal chef, or the person who cleans his quarters, and he likes it that way. He pays them handsomely and makes sure they're treated well, but no more than that.

His food needs to be prepared a certain way, by a certain person. He dislikes cooking for himself since it takes an obscenely long time due to the fact that he gets caught up with hygiene. He only trusts a small handful of restaurants, and sometimes he'll send subordinates in to scope out kitchens in places where he'll be staying. If they don't meet his standards, or he has an 'off' feeling about them, he'll bring his own food, which often ends up with him living off of preserves when he's on long trips where he can't bring his personal chef.

Observing closely, a fair amount of his rituals and compulsions can be traced back to his poor upbringing - he's picky with food due to repeated bouts of food poisoning due to poor quality ingredients and cooking conditions when he was young, he can't stand uncleanliness thanks to sicknesses caused directly by bad living conditions, he's strict when locking doors and windows due to repeated break-ins when he lived in a poorer neighbourhood.

He has a 'circular' way of sorting and working on things, he can work on a lot of papers at once, they just have to be in the right order, so he can flit in a clockwise direction through them all, switching seamlessly between each one without getting them mixed up.

Nobody can touch or clean his desk except for him - though it may look 'messy' at first glance, he understands it all perfectly and will know immediately if anything gets moved at all.

He keeps himself carefully detached from most people, he often views non-professional relationships as complicated and messy. He plays up his 'snooty' attitude as a defense mechanism to keep people away from him.

He can sometimes tolerate La Signora's company (after some light 'reconnaissance' missions into her quarters). They have similar tastes in wine, cheeses, and fruits and will sometimes share gossip.

Despite his haughty attitude, all of the people who work under him have good pay and benefits, and due to that, there's often a lot of people fighting over applying to work for him instead.

He always respects everyone equally upon meeting them, no matter their appearance or background - lots of people spread rumours about him being cruel and mean to the poor for the sake of it, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

He often makes large anonymous donations to organisations that he knows are good and trustworthy.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.