#sick tree treatment

[treedoctorusasworld]

Winterizing Your Trees: Top Tips for a Flourishing Garden

The onset of winter weather is imminent, and you won’t be the only one who needs to wear warm clothing. It is imperative that you get your trees ready. If you do not, you run the chance of them breaking, falling, or simply being an eyesore in your yard. Therefore, you should contact Tree Health Care San Diego if you need tree care. In light of this, you will need to adhere to the specific guidelines for winter trees to shield them from frost and maintain their viability. An excellent place to begin is by performing light pruning and applying mulch. It would be best if you continued to water them and keep the snow off the branches. In addition, you should take precautions to keep animals away. These are just a few elementary steps to follow.

The Advantages of Strong Trees

Trees have a tremendous impact on how our environment is shaped and confer many benefits on individuals and communities worldwide. Trees in Minnesota offer much more than only giving much-needed oxygen; in addition, they provide much-needed shade for homes and businesses and homes for a broad range of native species. In other words, trees in Minnesota serve several purposes.

During the warmer months of the year, trees act like enormous parasols, shielding a neighborhood from the sun’s direct rays and lowering the air’s temperature. In addition to their usage in natural landscaping, trees are frequently used in architectural design as ornamental features. In either scenario, trees’ continuing vitality and healthy development are essential for them to carry out their responsibilities.

On the financial side of things, it has been suggested that the worth of a house is higher when it has been adequately planted with trees and that this contributes to an increase in the value of the home. Are you familiar with the facts regarding trees and the imperative that it is to look after their health throughout the winter? Even though winter may appear to be an odd time to care for trees and may even be an uncomfortable season, there are several benefits to performing this activity at this time of year. We have compiled five tried-and-true approaches to tree healthcare to ensure your trees continue to thrive and remain healthy throughout the season.

Advice for Caring for Trees in the Wintertime

One thing that property and company owners should remember to do throughout the winter is to take care of their trees by managing any necessary pruning that needs to take place. It is recommended that you prune your tree during the winter months because this is when deciduous trees are dormant, and it is not the growing season for these trees. Because all the leaves have fallen off during the winter, you can easily access different regions of the tree and see precisely where you need to prune. It makes winter an ideal time for tree pruning.

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Pruning trees in the winter reduces the risk of inflicting fatal wounds on the trees, which may occur if the pruning were performed in the spring. When trees are pruned during the growing season, also known as the warm weather seasons, the resulting wounds and the sap that flows from them can become breeding grounds for a wide variety of pests and diseases that are harmful to the tree’s health.

Take Good Care of Young Trees

During the winter, young and newly planted trees are typically more susceptible to damage. Considering that these young trees have yet to develop their root systems, it may not be easy to care for them in the future.

It would help if you tended to your young trees and bushes now that the weather has turned chilly since they will have to survive a winter that is likely to be bitterly cold, snowy, and even icy. You may help safeguard the safety of young trees over the winter by cabling them, so they remain upright. It will reduce the risk of damage to the trees. The snow and ice may bring down your young tree because they are such powerful forces.

In addition to that, make sure that you put a plastic guard around the trunk of the tree or a wire fence around it so that rabbits and deer won’t eat it. Because of this damage, the tree may eventually perish. It is also helpful to prevent winter burn on the growth of your shrubs by wrapping them in burlap or cotton before winter arrives.

Stay Away From Using Salt Near Any Trees

It would help if you didn’t use salt anywhere near your trees, as the snow and ice accumulate over the winter months. Even while salt is an effective tool for melting ice on sidewalks and driveways, using it in the immediate area could hurt the trees.

Salt will end up causing damage to your tree’s roots and trunks since it will inhibit the tree from obtaining the critical nutrients for life and nutrition that it needs from the soil. Use sand or a natural de-icer that does not contain salt as an alternative to salt.

Conduct Frequent Inspections of Your Trees

Residents in Minnesota are well aware of how rapidly the weather may shift. It is crucial to check on your trees and bushes whenever there is a snowstorm or other type of winter storm. If there is a significant accumulation of snow on either of these, you may damage your tree or your house considerably. Ensure that you keep a close eye on your trees and the structure of their trunks and branches throughout the winter season.

Retain the Services of a Qualified Arborist

Last but not least, one of the most valuable pieces of advice we can provide regarding the care of trees during the winter is to contract the services of an expert to carry out the activities of winter tree removal and pruning. Although there are circumstances in which it may be OK for you to do some duties related to winter tree care on your own, it is prudent to delegate the more significant projects to professionals.

Professional arborists have access to specialized equipment and a wealth of knowledge, making them the best choice for many aspects of tree maintenance, including but not limited to the removal of trees and trimming branches located at greater heights on trees. Get in touch with a tree care provider to ensure your property’s trees receive the attention they need this winter.

Superior Tree Maintenance During the Winter

Do you plan to take care of your trees and ensure they remain healthy this winter? Dial the Professional Tree Care Services number right away. Professional arborists at Tree Doctor USA have extensive experience and training in applying vital tree care services to residential properties.

Original Source: How to Care for Happy and Healthy Tree in The Winter

[clumsypuppy]

Why are ppl scared to call it what it is and say we’re still going thru covid on top of seasonal illness. Like. That’s pretty important right. I was watching the news and they were like oh yeah we have an unprecedented number of flu cases “as well as other sicknesses” without actually saying Covid. No announcement abt vaccinations or masking or anything. Also if I hear someone joking abt “war flashbacks” for mentioning covid I fucking hate u

[hvlcy0n]

i don’t know what supernatural entity i disturbed in order to warrant my period lining up perfectly with a sinus infection but i’m literally on my hands and knees stop this immediately i beg

[collincountymagazine]

Howard Garrett's favorite trees plus Dirt Doctor's sick tree treatment

Howard Garrett’s DIRT DOCTOR sick tree treatment: “My plan is simple. Keep trees in a healthy condition so their immune systems can resist insect pests and diseases. The Sick Tree Treatment is the best way reverse the stress causing insect pest and disease problems as well.” Click to get Howard Garrett’s Dirt Doctor plan Howard Garrett’s Best trees to plant in North Texas Collin County…

[muniimyg]

BAD HABIT // JJK

06 | big dipper // series m.list

note: hihi ,, thank u for waiting !! this ch is def worth it tbh </3 no warnings ,, just like ... oc goes off on jungkook ,, jungkook gets blindfolded ,, more context on their auras ??? yeah ... tension too ! pls do not be shy and send in ur thoughts !!! i would love to know how u're liking the fic so far as it's my first fantasy au !!!!! (clearly still very nervy lmfao) mwah ,, enj !

//

the past few days have been anything but easy for jungkook.

not that he deserves easy—he knows he doesn’t. if anything, this is exactly what he should’ve expected. what does surprise him, though, is just how well you execute the petty treatment. how effortlessly you lock him out. how, no matter how many times he shuts his eyes, focuses, and tries to slip into your thoughts—he can’t.

it’s like the connection doesn’t exist.

which makes no sense.

because it does.

the string between you is golden and bright, undeniable to everyone who has ever seen it. and yet, there’s this… knot. this missing piece. it’s so fucking strange. he felt you before—felt the way your heart would race, the heat that would bloom across your skin. he knew when you were sick, when you were anxious. when the bond first tied, his own pulse had stumbled just trying to match yours. he cared so much when it happened...

but now?

now, it’s empty.

like someone cut the string without actually severing it.

he first noticed it that night in the garden.

you had only been soulmates for a few hours, and still, he felt something. at first, he thought maybe he was imagining it. overhyping the entire invisible string phenomenon. but then, the symptoms started stacking—waves of nausea when you were overwhelmed, your voice in his head when you caught his stray thoughts in class.

you’re in his head.

but he’s not in yours.

and if he’s not in your head, then what about your heart?

after that night, jungkook had gone to bed feeling like absolute shit. you told him he made you feel better—but he couldn’t feel it. couldn’t be sure. how could he trust words alone when everything inside you was a blank slate to him?

it freaked him out.

it got to him.

he spent the night tossing and turning, unable to catch even fifteen minutes of real sleep. and then, the next morning, when you walked in well-rested and seemingly fine—it hit him like a freight train.

it’s him.

he’s the problem.

and as fucked up, childish, and selfish as it is—that’s why he called you boring.

because you are.

because you’re blank.

because he, the so-called master of manipulation, can’t get inside your head.

but he sure as hell can get under your skin.

"so everyone, partner up—and obviously, soulmates go with soulmates," namjoon announces, finishing his rundown of the sparring activity.

you barely register the rest.

instead, you watch the class shuffle into place. soulmates move toward each other. friends pair up. the guys—still without soulmates—team up amongst themselves.

and jungkook?

jungkook leans against a tree, one foot propped lazily against the bark, arms folded over his chest. his expression is unreadable, but the tilt of his head, the barely-there smirk, sends heat curling up your spine. he plays with his lighter.

you exhale sharply and motion for him to come over.

he stays put, smirk growing.

then, he mouths, "don’t wanna."

your jaw clenches. you point at him, then to the ground in front of you.

"come here. now."

jungkook blinks, feigning innocence.

you cross your arms.

you wait—a second, a minute, a moment too long.

then, just as you start to turn away, he appears right in front of you.

"you're impatient today," he remarks, voice smooth, teasing. "is that how fast you need me? i can teleport wherever you want me to go. tell me to go away, i'll do it."

you sigh, pressing your fingers to your temple. before you can retort, he lifts his hands, and with the subtlest flex of his fingers, two sparring sticks float from the pile and dart into his grasp. he catches them effortlessly and offers you one, grinning.

across the field, namjoon groans.

"jungkook, did you really need to use your aura for that? just walk like a normal person."

jungkook huffs.

"wow. it’s like everyone hates me today."

"maybe we do," you mutter, snatching the stick from his hand.

this was foreseeable.

you don’t need jin’s aura to know how this is going to go. the class knows, too. there’s a shift in energy, hushed murmurs, amused glances exchanged.

from where he leans against a tree, jin exhales a chuckle. “this should be interesting.”

and it is.

because while everyone else has started, you haven’t moved past the first three strikes.

not because you aren’t trying.

but because jungkook isn’t.

you lunge forward, aiming a strike at his chest. he doesn’t even flinch. his own stick twirls idly in his fingers, his gaze flicking toward the treetops like he’s more interested in cloud formations than the fight.

he dodges every attack without breaking a sweat. side-steps. pivots. barely moves.

and worse—he looks bored.

your foot pivots. another strike slices through the air. jungkook steps back just enough for it to skim past his sleeve.

“getting closer,” he muses. “try again.”

irritation burns at your spine. you exhale sharply, feint left, strike right. this time, you land it. the stick grazes his arm—not enough to bruise, but enough to count.

jungkook stumbles back dramatically, hissing through his teeth as if you’d run him through with a blade.

"shit—"

the class falls silent for a beat.

then, snickers ripple through the air.

"oh, come on," you deadpan.

jungkook blinks at you, playing it up even more. "that was—you stabbed me."

taehyung mutters something under his breath. jin actually laughs. namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose.

jungkook sighs, twirling his stick again. then, in a movement so smooth it’s almost insulting, he flicks yours aside with a gentle tap.

wood clashes.

you stumble back.

cheers erupt from the watching trainees. but you just glare at him, chest heaving.

"again."

you grip your stick tighter, eyes narrowing. across from you, jungkook still looks at ease. hands loose. weight shifted just enough to be casual. like he’s humoring you.

the heat in your chest flares.

“jungkook, are you even trying?”

he shrugs, nonchalant.

“dunno. are you?”

jimin chokes on a laugh. "god, jungkook’s asking for it."

your jaw locks.

the room feels warmer. everyone's watching. you’ve never cared about proving yourself before—but this feels different.

nam joon's voice cuts in, sharp. "jungkook, get it together. look at ___! she’s clearly upset.”

jungkook’s eyes flicker toward namjoon. then back to you.

and something changes... his teasing drops. his fingers tighten around his stick.

“you want me to try?”

you swallow, nodding once.

he shifts, expression unreadable. “whatever you want, p.”

then, he moves.

the first exchange is fast. too fast. you counter, but his strikes come harder, sharper. for the first time, he’s fighting back.

and you’re losing.

badly.

his strikes come faster, sharper. his movements are precise. he isn’t holding back anymore, and suddenly, you’re struggling to keep up. the wooden sticks crack against each other, loud against the backdrop of rustling trees and hushed whispers.

then, in a split second, he spins.

your stick is wrenched from your hands. before you can react, jungkook grips it, tugging it toward him—until you’re standing nearly chest to chest.

then—

he taps himself out.

a grin spreads across his face. the trainees erupt into giggles. your shoulders rise and fall as you catch your breath.

jungkook extends a hand.

"good game."

it wasn’t.

it wasn’t fair.

it wasn't good.

it was just so him.

instead of shaking his hand, you shove your sparring stick against his chest and avoid his eyes.

"excuse me," you mutter before turning away from the group and heading towards the garden.

jungkook watches you leave.

he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t move. but, after a few beats, jungkook follows.

you don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there.

you can feel it.

the ground hums beneath your feet, a faint tremor shifting the soil like the earth itself is attuned to him. the air turns crisp, infused with something familiar—fresh rain on warm stone, something sharp at the edges, something distinctly him. being his soulmate changes everything.

good and bad.

so you make him work for it.

you take the long way to the garden, slipping between hedges, ducking beneath ivy, fingers grazing the thick vines trailing along the palace walls. the scent of jasmine clings to your skin as you move, quiet and deliberate. you don’t look back.

but he follows.

always.

by the time you reach the stone bench beneath the willow, the late afternoon sun drapes golden shadows over the grass. the leaves rustle overhead, and the distant chime of a wind bell carries through the stillness.

he doesn’t speak.

you wait.

finally, after what feels like forever, jungkook exhales.

“you didn’t come last night.”

the words break through the quiet, heavy and deliberate.

“hmm?” you hum, dragging the sound out just enough to make him second-guess himself.

his jaw ticks. “i felt sick.”

the way he says it—careful, measured—betrays him.

a test.

a trap.

you don’t spring it... not yet.

instead, you lift your gaze, watching him with something unreadable.

“exactly how sick were you?”

his expression flickers—just for a second—but it’s enough. the shift. the realization that you know he’s lying. that you didn’t come because you didn’t want to. that he had waited for you, and you had chosen to ignore it.

he doesn’t like that. not one bit.

for the first time since class, he looks at you. really looks at you. and for the first time, you let him.

the garden is quiet this time of day. that’s why you go. but now, the quiet stretches thin between you, taut as a thread about to snap. the leaves sway overhead. jungkook shifts his weight.

then, without thinking, you step forward.

he doesn’t move. just watches.

you lift a hand, resting the back of it against his forehead.

warm. not feverish, but—warm.

jungkook stills.

for a split second, he stops breathing. the world falls away, distant and unimportant, because all he can focus on is your touch. the way your fingers linger before you pull away.

he reacts before he can think.

his hand catches yours, fingers wrapping around your wrist—not tight, but firm. firm enough to stop you.

you blink.

he tugs you closer.

your other hand lands against his chest, steadying yourself against the solid weight of him.

he is warm here, too. warmer than he should be. his heartbeat is steady, but there’s something frantic beneath the surface, a tension coiled too tight.

jungkook doesn’t know what to do with this. doesn’t know what to do with the warmth spreading through him like something foreign. something dangerous.

his voice is quiet when he speaks. almost unsteady.

“what are you doing to me?”

your lips part slightly, breath catching—

then, you push away.

he lets go immediately, like your touch burns.

your expression smooths out, unreadable. you take a step back.

“nothing,” you say. “that’s the thing.”

jungkook exhales sharply, head tilting. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you hold his gaze. then, deliberately, you let your aura slip. let it expand—thick, unmistakable.

resistance.

jungkook’s breath catches.

“i can’t read you,” he says eventually, voice low, like he hates admitting it. “i... i could for a day or two... but it doesn’t make sense. this does't make sense. you knew i wasn’t sick last night?”

you nod.

“... you can feel—”

“yeah,” you breathe. “i can feel your symptoms. i can feel when your body reacts to me. i can hear your thoughts when you let me—when you want me to. i feel the bond."

his fingers twitch at his sides. his brows pinch slightly, like this realization is foreign. you inhale, steady. then exhale, letting down your guard just enough for him to feel it.

your aura glows—not to the eye, but in presence.

jungkook stiffens.

“resistance,” he pieces together. “that’s… that’s why i can’t—”

“i had my guard down when we met. i was giving you a chance, and you…” your voice softens, eyes searching his. “you can’t manipulate me. i refuse it.”

his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. then, he scoffs, shaking his head.

“who said i had plans to manipulate you?”

“isn’t that your aura?”

“and if it is?” he steps closer, chin tilting. “come on, p. you think you have me all figured out?”

your lips curl into a small smile. not sweet. not cruel. something in between.

“yeah, i do,” you say. “the truth is, i’m not upset that you find me boring.”

jungkook waits.

“i’m upset that you’re boring.”

his brows furrow slightly. “what does that mean?”

you step back, turning toward the garden bench as you speak over your shoulder.

“you think i’m just a princess? fine. to each their own. you think you’re too good for me—”

“i never said that—”

“what?” your voice sharpens. “you think you’re not good enough, then? see, i’m confused—frustrated, actually. i understand i’m the newbie to the divinity—to this… to you,” you pause, eyes finding his. “but why should i stand around and let myself be collateral damage to your low self-esteem and ego?”

his expression hardens. offense first, then defense.

“who the fuck said shit about me having low self-esteem—”

“no one,” you almost laugh. “but that’s it, isn’t it? your ego can't swallow the fact that you can't read me. that you can't manipulate your place in my life... that there's a possibility that you can and will fail and have to depend on trust and love to be enough for people like me to stay.”

jungkook clenches his jaw.

"i don't know what the fuck you're talking about," jungkook spits. "do you think you're better than us because you're the divine?"

"no," you answer steadily. "i think i know more because i've been away from the divine. i have perspective. i know what's real—what's out there."

"i know what's out there too—"

"you didn't live in it," you breathe. "jungkook, people in the real world have to do things they don't want to do. no manipulation in time, no manipulation in feelings or things—they face life... you sleep during class. you don’t care when we spar. you don’t care about me—”

“___, you can’t possibly be calling me out and using these as your fucking excuses—”

“i just want you to know it’s okay,” you say it softer this time, like you mean it. “has anyone accepted you... just the way you are? if not, let me be the first one to do so. jungkook, do what you want. be who you are. figure things out or give up—it doesn’t matter. i can live like this, okay? we don’t have to be obsessed with each other. we can fight the bond if that’s what you really want—”

jungkook’s mind spins.

you’re saying so much shit that doesn’t make sense to him. this is escalating too fast. he wasn’t prepared for this. he didn’t know the weight of his words until now.

“it’s not what i want,” he spits out. “___, can you please slow down—”

you shake your head.

“i just want you to know this: you’re wrong if you think i’m the type to tend to someone’s inability to see their goodness. their worth… their purpose. i’m a big believer in accepting what you think you deserve. if you can’t accept me, that’s fine. maybe i’m not what you deserve. but that’s not on me, jungkook. you limit yourself. you don’t believe in fate. you don’t want this—”

“do you?” he croaks out. “do you want this?”

for a moment, you’re stunned.

regardless of all the shit he’s put you through in the past two weeks, you don’t have it in yourself to lie.

“i want more,” you say finally. “not this.”

more.

jungkook didn't know what that meant exactly... but this was a start. he isn't an apologetic type, so this is his... version of it.

trying.

again.

he stands in front of you, rolling his wrists, exhaling slow. his eyes flicker over your stance—checking, assessing, adjusting before he even moves.

“keep your weight forward,” jungkook instructs, tilting his chin toward your feet. “you hesitate too much.”

you nod, shifting slightly. he steps in, light on his feet, and you match him, falling into motion as he throws a testing jab. you dodge. pivot. counter. he blocks. you move again.

but it’s wrong.

every strike, every dodge, every block feels a second off. like walking out of rhythm with someone—close but not quite. you follow his cues, but there’s no flow, no instinct, just effort.

jungkook exhales sharply.

“again.”

he moves quicker this time, forcing you to react faster, but it only makes the disconnect more obvious. he shifts left when you expect right. your counters don’t land where they should. his frustration grows, simmering beneath his skin, evident in the slight drag of his feet, the way his breath turns shallow. he shakes his head, readjusting.

you know that feeling—the itch of something not working, of knowing it should but not being able to make it.

you step back, panting, watching the tension tighten in his shoulders.

“can we try something?” you ask, voice softer now.

jungkook pauses. 

he blinks at you, expression unreadable, before tilting his head slightly.

“try what?”

you don’t wait for his response.

“wait here,” you tell him before you turn on your heel, feet light against the stone path as you take off in a quiet sprint. the air is thick with the lingering tension of missed steps, of a rhythm neither of you could quite grasp, but you know—you know—it isn’t just about movement.

jungkook doesn’t call after you. 

he stays where he is, watching as you disappear.

when you return, there’s gold handkerchief is wrapped around your fingers. the fabric glows in the dim light, soft between your hands as you come to a stop in front of him, close enough that you see the slight furrow of his brow.

his gaze flickers to yours, unreadable.

“trust me?” you ask, already reaching up.

jungkook exhales. then, slowly, he nods.

you tiptoe, wrapping the cloth over his eyes, knotting it at the back of his head. his shoulders stay squared, but you feel the way his breath slows, the way he stills beneath your touch. his lashes flutter against the fabric before he adjusts his stance again, waiting.

this time, when you move, he doesn’t see you—he feels you.

“focus on me,” you tell him. 

“h-how—”

“i’ll focus on you too. maybe if we do this properly, our auras will meet. i can put my guard up any time, but putting it down is something entirely different. it’s beyond my control to put it down. it’s a reaction to you—your vulnerability, not mine.”

jungkook swallows, letting your words sink in. 

"how do you know this shit?" he attempts to hide his suspicion.

you laugh. "have you forgotten who my grandparents are? just because i was raised outside this palace doesn't mean i wasn't educated and trained for the divinity."

"you are the divinity."

"that i am, little prince."

you don't know it, but he rolls his eyes.

"and you're a princess."

"that i am not."

he chuckles. so do you. the moment is light.

then, he takes a deep breath and envisions you.

in his head, it’s hazy. there’s only so much of you that he memorized in a short period of time—but he hopes it’s enough. he recalls the way you turn your head and how pretty your neck is. how long your hair is and how your eyes smile before your lips curve into one.

before you know it, the air shifts and he strikes. there’s a slight tremor in your breath when you hesitate—a quiet hitch when he moves too close.

his body reacts without thinking, syncing to yours in a way sight never allowed. he follows the push and pull, the rise and fall of your heartbeat, matching it, learning it. and for the first time, there’s no disconnect—no distance or this… force that pushes him away. 

no struggle.

just instinct.

just you.

and then, in a way he can’t explain, he knows where you’ll be before you even move. 

he anticipates every pivot, every feint, as if something unseen is guiding him—no, pulling him. there’s a thread between you now, stretched taut between his ribs and yours, humming with energy. it tightens when you step back, loosens when you exhale. he feels it with every shift, with every breath you take.

it’s disorienting at first, the pull, the quiet certainty of it. but it’s right. more right than anything has felt in a long, long time.

his heart pounds, syncing to yours. for the first time, jungkook doesn’t fight it.

instead, he lets it fall.

in so many fucking ways, he lets himself fall.

you bend over and tug the handkerchief off of him. 

then, you extend a hand.

jungkook squints, adjusting to the night. then, he stares at it for a beat too long, his pride hanging in the space between you. you didn’t exactly win… but you didn’t lose either. regardless, he feels defeated. 

the garden is quiet except for the sound of both your breaths, still uneven, still trying to settle. the tie had been hard-earned—one final strike knocking him down, leaving him on his back, staring at the night sky like it held the answers he didn’t.

you wiggle your fingers. “good game?”

his lips press into a line before he exhales, reaching up. his palm slides against yours, rough and warm, and you brace yourself as he uses the momentum to pull himself to his feet.

too strong.

the force drags you forward, nearly colliding into his chest.

you stumble, hands reaching for balance, and jungkook catches you before you can fall completely. one hand wraps around your waist, the other grasping your arm, steadying you like it’s second nature. his fingers press firm into your skin, and for a moment, neither of you move.

your palm lands flat against his chest.

a sharp inhale. not yours.

his heartbeat hammers against your touch, wild and restless. the same way it felt when he was blindfolded—when he had to rely on instinct, when the rhythm of his breath synced with yours and something unseen pulled tight between you.

you lift your gaze.

jungkook is already looking.

your eyes meet and it’s like you’re the only thing he sees. you see it. you look into his eyes and freaking see what he sees. 

you. only you.

his lips suddenly part like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. his eyes flicker, unreadable, caught between hesitation and something heavier. his grip on your waist doesn’t loosen. if anything, it lingers, fingertips pressing in like he’s mapping out the shape of you, committing it to memory.

"what are you thinking right now?" he asks rather shyly. “since i… i can’t read your mind.”

your voice is soft. it curls between you, laced with something you’re not sure you want to name.

jungkook swallows. his grip tightens—just slightly, just enough for you to feel it… seconds stretch.

then—before anything else, before you let yourself think too hard about it—you smile. you let out a small chuckle, tapping his chest with the back of your hand.

"figure it out, jungkook."

the walk back is quiet, but the air hums with something… different. 

the weight of the sparring match lingers between you—his hands on your waist, your fingers on his chest, the breathless moment you shared before you pulled away. now, as you walk side by side beneath the moonlight, the space between you feels impossibly small, as if the night itself is pushing you closer.

your fingertips brush once. a fleeting touch, barely there. but it’s enough to send a pulse through the invisible string that binds you.

twice. his breath stutters. 

three times. 

fuck.

you hear it. 

not aloud, but in the space between your thoughts, in the echo of his heartbeat. it’s his voice though. you know it is… and it’s the sheer panic in his mind and the way his body that betrays him. you giggle before you can stop yourself, and jungkook tenses beside you, as if caught in something he wasn’t ready to admit. 

his jaw tightens. 

his ears burn red.

you reach your doorstep too soon. your heart is still racing, tangled up in him, in the weight of his presence. and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, "i can send a guard to take you back to yours—"

jungkook scoffs, low and amused. “i can handle myself.”

you fumble for an excuse. 

“it’s just that… it’s dark.”

he glances up, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. the night sky is dark, but the stars shine almost as bright as you. it’s enough for him to know where he’s going.

“the stars are out.”

you follow his gaze. the sky is vast, endless, and speckled with constellations that stretch far beyond the palace walls. the kind of night that feels infinite.

“they are…” you exhale softly. “wow, they’re so bright here.”

jungkook tilts his head. “you do live in the highest point of the palace.”

you laugh, shaking your head.

“still. regardless of where i am, i can never spot the big dipper.”

he hums, tilting his chin toward the sky. “really? it’s over there.”

“where?” you ask, mimicking his gaze.

“made you look.”

you gasp, swatting his arm, and he grins—really grins, boyish and unguarded, like the version of him that slips through when he forgets to keep his walls up. it sends something warm curling in your chest.

you soften, stepping back toward your door. 

“goodnight, jungkook.”

he lingers, just for a moment. the moonlight catches in his eyes, in the way he watches you like he wants to say something but doesn’t. instead, he exhales, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“goodnight, princess.”

you slip inside, shutting the door behind you. the guards reposition themselves and ask jungkook if he’d like to be accompanied back. he shakes his head, declining the offer. then, he puzzles the guards for a moment. 

jungkook doesn’t leave immediately. 

he waits, glancing up at the stars once more. and then, with a quiet flick of his fingers, the sky shifts. the darkness of the night sky almost flickers. the clouds part ever so slightly, rearranging the constellations.

the big dipper, now perfectly clear. 

just for you.

[dxmurewrites]

Close Call

lil smutty one shot

pairing: Sir Jimmy Crystal x Fem!Reader

summary: So no head? Jk there's head. Jimmy takes out an infected who gets a little too close for comfort, and you wanted to thank him for his help.

a/n: I regret nothing. Jack O'Connell could make a dropped meat pie look good.

unedited because it's 3am and I wrote this on my phone

warnings: post apocalypse, language, cult mentions, established relationship, power imbalance(?) seeing as Jimmy probably has a god complex, sexual tension, pet names, mentions of blood and infected people, degrading terms, possessive behaviour, oral (m!receiving), cum eating, swallowing, hair pulling, gagging and spit, in public (but no one is around.)

let me know what you think!

____________________

It shouldn't have been attractive. 

It really shouldn't have been attractive. 

Good lord why was this so attractive. 

“You with me?” Jimmy interrupts your thoughts, turning his attention from the path ahead to you briefly. “You’ve been too quiet, it's worrying' me.”

“I’m alright.” How do you politely say that you want him to stop his stride and take you against a tree?

“Y’sure? If it’s about what happened back there, don’t think too much ‘bout it, shit happens."

An infected had snuck up on you. Jimmy had insisted you try and prove your worth to the group by taking down some infected on your own. He knew you were capable, but you had expressed to him that there was some worry. It alarmed you that the other Jimmy's might think you received special treatment due to your closeness to the leader of your little clan.

An infected had stalked you the entire run, having made no noise until it's blistered hands were inches from your flesh. It would've gotten you too, had Jimmy not been right behind it with his spear.

You hadn't even realised Jimmy had followed you as well, thinking he sent you out into the unknown alone.

It should’ve alarmed you that an infected had gotten so close, that he had been following you without making a sound. But it didn't. It made you feel good.

Protected. Cared for.

Wanted.

The leader had told you that he couldn't let his favourite out unattended, that he wasn't going to let you be snatched up by an infected or another group. You belonged to him. The very idea of someone else's hands on you made him seethe.

It should've worried you. The possessiveness of it all. The idea of being his property.

But it didn’t.

God.

It turned you on.

It made you feel hot.

He had protected you without a second thought. Without hesitation. He left the safety of your community to follow after you alone, slaying an infected. If it were anyone else, he would've let the infected kill them, make an example out of them for being foolish and unaware of their surroundings.

Jimmy would've made sure everyone knew that ignorance wasn't allowed here. You either used your brain or lost it.

And yet he walks just a metre away from you, his hand on his sharpened spear as he scans his surroundings for any other threats. His gaze would land on you every now and then, making sure you were following behind him.

You waited for him to berate you, to call you every name under the sun for letting a sick one get too close - and yet, no words came.

When the infected had fallen to the ground in a bloodied clump, his weapon on the ground beside it - his hands were immediately on your face, pulling the loose strands of hair from your forehead in an attempt to see your eyes.

He had tilted your chin upwards in a firm grip, making sure the whites of your eyes weren't changing. The coldness of his rings had sent goosebumps across your skin, a warm heat in your cheeks.

The air had left your lungs at the action. There wasn't any time to even thank him for killing the infected, to ask him what he was doing there. His lips met yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss, his hands still gripping your chin before he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

He said your name in almost a warning tone, his own little way of telling you that he wasn't happy about your cluelessness, but he wasn't mad either.

You whispered you were sorry, and his lips tightened in a frown, his eyebrows furrowing almost in an inner turmoil. "I know you are," he told you, his right hand gliding from your jaw to the back of your neck. "You're lucky, aren't you dove?"

"Yes sir," you nodded, feeling the grip of his fingers against your neck. It wasn't rough, just enough to know that there was some frustration there. "I will do better next time."

Jimmy tutted. "There's not going to be a next time," he shook his head, grinning and showing off his jagged teeth. "You're not going out again alone, you're no good to me dead."

A frown graced your lips, feeling defeated. This hunt was to prove yourself, to prove to the others that you could protect and serve the community. "But-"

He shushes you again, almost like scolding a child. "I know you can do it," Jimmy pats your cheek. "But I don't want you out here, no by yer'self."

He cared about you. In his own little fucked up way. Patting your cheek again, he had tipped his head towards a beaten track, urging you to start moving. So here you were, following behind him in a slow stride, careful not to step on any loud branches or twigs in your path.

You gripped your spear in your hand, watching as Jimmy's blond hair swung behind him as he walked. He was so confident, so sure of everything.

Yeah, you were going to hell.

God, you needed him.

Home was half an hour away, and you still had a few hours of daylight left.

“Seriously,” Jimmy stops in his place, turning around to point his finger at you. “Say somethin’, you do dumb shit when you're this quiet."

If it were anyone else, you would've protested the jest, name called the assailant to no end. But you couldn't do that with him. "I'm okay," you shake your head, twirling your spear in your hand nervously as you stopped your steps beside him. "I just don't want to bring any attention to us s'all."

He grunts, his head tilting as he eyes you. He says your name. "I want you to speak, and I want ye to tell me what you're thinking so fucking hard about."

His accent came out a little rougher, an indication that his frustration was growing. Jimmy could read you like a book. Every little quirk, every little noise or lack thereof. He knew. Of course he did.

Jimmy fucking Crystal knew everything.

“I don’t know how to word what is in my head." You admit, squeezing your spear as you turn your gaze away from him, choosing to focus on some flowers in the distance. Intimacy wasn't new to you, having fooled around with Jimmy before.

The issue was that initiating it all was new to you. He was always the one who would start it.

It was better that way. Initiating sex or any form of intimacy was intimidating to you. Unheard of, in your little world. But Jimmy could read your little hints, your lingering gazes, and would do the rest for you.

You see him whip his head around in the corner of your eye. His blond hair blowing in the breeze around him as he stabs his spear into the dirt. “If it’s about what I did before, I've already told you to forget about it," he walks towards you, reaching out to grip your elbow. He hated when you didn't look at him, when your attention was elsewhere. "Talk to me dove, tell Jimmy what's troublin' you,"

You shook your head, and Jimmy raises his eyebrow at the refusal. His hand slid down your arm before his fingers rest against your own, turning your palm over. His other hand reaches up to grab your spear, letting it fall to the ground. "Don't make me ask again."

“I want to suck you off.” You force out, your lips in a tight line as Jimmy's eyes widen in shock, his face instantly relaxing upon your words. He wasn't used to hearing such vulgarity from your lips, not unless his tongue was already between your thighs or his dick was stuffed inside you.

“You’ve been quiet this entire time because you want my cock?” He questions, adjusting the way he was standing. Your words immediately started to affect him.

You nod, beginning to play with his rings as he exhales loudly. “Sorry Jimmy.”

“Sorry? You're sorry for wanting to touch me?" He chuckles as you nod once, his fingers entwining with yours to stop your absent touching of his rings. "You want to wrap those pretty lips around me?"

You were worried he would've been annoyed, that your mind was focused on him and not your surroundings, but you nod again, feeling almost ashamed.

He inhales sharply, looking around once more at your surroundings. The sound of birds echoed in the distance, other little creatures scurrying about. It was a good sign, seeing as animals would vacate areas at the first signs of infected.

"You are just so cute, aren't ye," he says. "Acting shy like you didn't just say you want my cock in your mouth, fuckin' look at ye'."

It would've felt humiliating coming from anyone else, but Jimmy loved this, loved how shy you were. It made him feel even more in charge.

His touch is soft again, removing his fingers from yours as he moved even closer to you, crowding you. "Go on then," he murmurs, nodding to the grass beneath you. "ye want me, ye can have me, right here."

You knew better than to make him repeat himself, so you nod, kneeling slowly to the ground in front of him. It should've worried you, being so exposed outside of the safety of your four walls and your brethren.

But you trusted him.

Had faith in him.

Jimmy inhales again, his blue eyes darkening as he takes in the vision of you. He tuts once more, his hand coming out to pull some hair away from your eyes as he coos, looking down at you between his legs.

"So good for me," he says softly, continuing to play with a strand of your hair, and then his hand moves down slowly, touching your jaw in a gentle but assertive way. His thumb strokes your cheek as he brushes the edge of your lip, his tongue clicking as you preen at his touch. "You're just so sweet, so thankful, aren't you?"

You nod, your words failing you. The coolness of his rings against the softness of your cheeks made the skin on the back of your neck rise, and you waited for further permission to continue. It may have been you to initiate something for once, but Jimmy was in control.

He was always in control.

"Tell me what you want to do again," He orders, his thumb running along your bottom lip. "Use your words." "I want you in my mouth." You reply almost instantly, letting him press his thumb between your lips, sucking on the digit gently. Jimmy hisses slightly, and you would've missed it had his jaw not tightened as you stared up at him.

"My good girl," He says softly, the emphasis on my not being lost on you. "S'all you now, take what's yours."

With his permission, you reach up with shaky hands, running your fingers gently over the tent in his tracksuit. He hums as you look up at him with your eyes hooded, eyelashes batting and he would've made another quip had you not pressed harder against his growing cock.

You unzip his pants, pulling them down to his thighs before his boxers follow behind. His cock stood to attention almost immediately, and your mouth watered, seeing the swollen tip flush against him.

Licking your lips in anticipation, Jimmy wanted to comment on the innocent gaze you gave him, how it was such a stark contrast to what you were actually doing . What you were doing for him.

In your position, he was reminded of those who would pray before him, those in your community that sort his protection. He would have you on your knees everyday if you let him, but prayers wouldn't be spoken.

You sat with your knees apart, trainer covered feet pressing into your behind. It was a big difference to the comfort of your bedroom, or the lush carpet in Jimmy's grand room, but it wasn't unwelcome. Resting your hands on his thighs, you reach forward, placing a soft kiss on his skin before working yourself towards his cock, just the small of amount of teasing that he enjoyed.

Grasping the base of his cock with your hand, you place a sweet kiss to the tip, smiling to yourself as you hear the man above you groan.

Spit gathers at the front of your mouth, and you wrap your lips around his tip, letting it dribble out and onto him before taking him further into your mouth.

Jimmy groans louder upon feeling the heat of your mouth and the weight of your tongue. His cock twitches between your lips, your name leaving his own like a growl, sending heat to between your thighs. He wounds both of his hands into your hair, but he doesn't rush or push you further, doesn't grip roughly, letting you set the pace.

He was confident enough that he had trained you accordingly, that you already knew what he liked.

You did. He liked the build up just as much as he enjoyed fucking your mouth with earnest. It always depended on his mood that day, whether or not he wanted to use your pretty little holes to his whim or if he wanted to take his time. Jimmy was anything but picky.

Without thinking any longer, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, feeling its thickness as you slowly began to stroke him. He released a low, appreciative sigh at the combination of your hot mouth and your soft grip. His thighs tensed under your touch.

Your eyes met his through hooded lids once more, lowering your mouth to take him in further. The stretch of him filled your mouth as you went deeper, feeling his hardness slide against your tongue. You kept going until you felt his tip reach the back of your throat, the unruly hair on his pelvis brushing against your nose. His shudder, name on his own tongue like a prayer, sent a thrill through your body as you adjusted the way you were kneeling, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him as he twitched inside your mouth.

As you set a familiar pace, Jimmy starts to make guttural, broken sounds that sounded like music to your ears. Each little sound urged you on and his grip threaded in your hair started to tighten. Your nails slid down his thighs, feeling the muscles beneath your fingers as he shuddered again.

With your tongue following a vein, the blond man moans, his head falling back as he breathed loudly. "S'good," He sighs, his hips stuttering and thrusting a little. The action causes you to gag, and he pats at your head. "You can take it, such a good little thing for me."

With one hand still supported on his thigh, the other continues to stroke at what doesn't fit in your mouth. His hips involuntarily thrusts again, and you continue your movements, breathing through your nose as you focus on his taste.

"God, you love this don't ye?" His groans filled the area, which should've worried you, but with his salty taste and the wetness between your legs, you didn't care. "Fuckin' made for this."

Jimmy moves one of his hands from your hair, cradling your cheek in a tender gesture as he looked down at you with a lustful, but soft expression. "My pretty girl," He coos, caressing your cheek. "Ye look so good like this, would have you on your knees like this everyday, stuff all your little holes full."

You couldn't help the moan that left your throat, vibrating around him. He grins through it, trying to hide how your little sound had sent a chill down his spine. "You'd like that hm?"

His head fell back once more, unable to hold back a guttural growl as you continued with your lips on him, feeling his cock pulse and grow impossibly harder against your tongue.

His hips instinctively forward, wanting to feel more of your mouth as your tongue traces the underside of his cock, the drag of his foreskin making the action easier for you. He shivers again, muttering your name over and over as he moves the hair from your face almost lovingly.

“Look at me dove,” he urged, tugging at your hair again to tilt your face up. Your lips were puffy, your chin coated in your spit, tears glazing your eyes. He stared in awe, content with how easy it was to get you drunk on his taste, on his cock. “Fuckin' perfect.”

It almost sounded like whines from his throat, and he thrusts harder into your mouth, causing you to gag audibly around him. You hear him mutter a 'sorry love', and the words caused your chest to flutter.

More praises follow, your name sounding so sweet on his lips, a vision to your eyes as your saviour almost whimpers as his release builds closer. His balls tighten, and your lips squeeze tighter around him, and his fingers clench in your hair as his body tenses hard. "Just like that," he swears, his chest heaving as his golden crucifix glistens in the sunlight. "Fuck f-fuck."

Jimmy didn't have to say where he wanted to cum. If you were giving him a blowjob - it was a given that it would be down your throat. Although, in his filthy nature, he did enjoy shooting his load over your face every now and then if he felt you had been bratty. He wasn't a fan of waste, and that meant his cum too. Seeing you covered in him felt like his own little way of reminding you just who you belonged too.

Spurts of thick, salty cum paint the inside of your mouth, the jerks of his hips causing his shaft to continue thrusting in-between your lips, and he curses as you swallow around him. You continue to suck softly, being sure to clean up and remaining seed that spilled from your mouth.

Jimmy pulls out of your mouth, slowly tucking himself back into his boxers as he pulls his pants back up around his waist. Before you can do it yourself, he's reaching down, holding out his hands for you to take.

You do so, your smaller hands resting in his as he helps you stand on shaky legs. Once again, you avoid his gaze, instantly feeling shy over what you had done in such a public setting. Jimmy swipes a finger against your chin, a little trail of cum having spilled onto your skin. He presses his thumb into his own mouth, before he guides your gaze back to his.

"Ye feel better now dove?" he asks you, and you nod, smiling at him, cheeks warm and lips sore.

"Yes sir," you probably looked like a right mess - lips swollen, cheeks tear stained and hair tussled more than the vines that covered the houses in the village. But Jimmy loved it. Loved how much you enjoyed pleasing him. He loved you in his own peculiar way. "Thank you."

He scoffed, wiping your cheeks of any remaining tears before he begins to walk away towards your previous path. He stops once more, noticing you're not following him. "Ye want me to fuck ye now huh?"

You shake your head. "Just a kiss."

Jimmy's eyebrows furrowed, but he shrugs, waiting for you to step forward again, stepping on your tip toes as you press your lips against his. He sighs into your mouth, his tongue pressing in to taste himself. As he steps away, he rolls his eyes playfully at your smile.

"Stop actin' like that," He grabs at your shoulder gently, pushing you ahead of him this time. "You came out here for a hunt and left with cum in ye mouth."

"So did you." You rebut, and his wags his finger at you in warning.

[clairdelunelove]

itadori yuuji is the type to believe that giving his girlfriend "princess treatment" is the bare minimum

yuuji who, upon getting a glimpse of the gloomy sky, will immediately shed his jacket to give it to you. he genuinely checks the weather app on his phone just for you. actually, it doesn’t even matter if the weather is terribly stormy or rainy– if he glances out the window and sees the trees swaying from the wind then he’s handing you his jacket. call him dramatic but he doesn’t want his girl to be cold! can’t fathom the thought of how inconsiderate he’d be if he just let you waltz in the frigid air and become sick. just the idea of that happening to you has him nauseated. and if you sheepishly decline, murmuring a worried excuse that he’ll be cold and whatnot, then he’s got a couple tricks up his sleeve! “got this new jacket over the weekend,” he’ll casually bring up while the two of you are walking together, “it’s really soft on the inside! here, wear it and lemme know!” and before you know it, you’re bundled up in his jacket and he’s zipping it up for you with the sweetest smile on his face. just continuously dotes on you in the ways that count. and on the rare occasion where it’s pouring rain outside while the two of you are together, he’s surprisingly prepared. has a travel-sized umbrella tucked away in his pocket for this situation. it sometimes stuns you at how well he plans anything that revolves around you; once, he jokingly mentioned how his brain works overtime whenever he’s with you. “I’m, like, actually thinking when you’re around me, yanno,” he muses and the seriousness in his voice always pulls a giggle from you. he’s in charge of holding the umbrella over the both of you but because of the size, his uncovered shoulder is usually drenched by the end of it. tries to change the subject if you notice. “hey, that small shop is selling figurines!” “they had them last week, yuu.” not to mention that half a week later he definitely gets sick from being in the rain for too long but he won’t admit it because he’s stubborn. also, during the stormy season, he’s the type to advise you to wait under some cover so he can get the car. will guide you to a brightly lit spot on the sidewalk so you can safely wait for him. “wait here for me!” he calls over his shoulder and hurriedly jogs to where he last parked the car. yuuji is especially precarious in these situations. scrambles out of the car to open the door and carefully help you in. even if he’s moving quickly, his actions are always so delicate towards you. buckles your seatbelt while pressing a soft kiss on your cheek and, in the process, doesn't bother to protect himself from the rain. ends up with his pink hair sticking to his forehead, weighed down from water droplets, and you’re instinctively brushing it away from his eyes. and when you pull away, he considers that it’s worth it. so even if the chilly weather numbs your fingertips, you’re warm from the amount of effort yuuji goes through to ensure that you’re alright.

yuuji who vigilantly guides you through crowded places so you can have the best view. is aware that you become a bit anxious due to the amount of restless people that are rushing and swarming to their destination. and yes, you acknowledge that everyone has their reasons but it still causes you to panic. yuuji has a foolproof plan for the date to go well, though. he typically opts to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while leading you through the crowd. “gosh,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans beside you, “today's almost as beautiful as you are.” and the way his voice is reduced to a dreamy sigh is incredibly charming. makes your heart flip and your palms sweaty. you’re awestruck at how thoughtful he is and he’s so careful about directing you through the crowd. has a steady arm wrapped around your waist as he eagerly points to the direction where the fireworks are being set off. it’s a beautiful evening. hues of burnt orange and titian paint the sky, a perfect backdrop for the event that caused onlookers to buzz in excitement. but yuuji’s gaze never leaves yours. watchful for the possibility of someone standing too close to you. he will deliberately jab an elbow and warn them with a, “watch it, man. almost knocked my girl over.”  but then he’s back to being your good-natured boyfriend. angles towards you with a considerably soft glimmer in his eyes when you tug him closer. he’s always beside you, never straying too far away from you– he couldn’t. even if the world tried to pry you from his arms, he’d raise havoc. that’s the type of person yuuji is. and his touch makes you feel so secure– safe. just a comforting weight around your waist as he gently guides you along. unfortunately, the event was more popular than you expected. you can’t see a thing, regardless of whether you teetered on the tips of your toes or not. a frown pulls at your lips and disappointment rushes through you because it had been your idea to spend the night here. better luck next time, you supposed. but as you turn to break the news to the blushy haired male, he’s speaking up. “hop on my back so you can see better!” and before you can retort, he’s dropping to his knees and motioning for you to get on. “hurry! they’re starting!” nudging you onto his back, yuuji easily maneuvers to give you a piggyback ride in hopes of providing you a better view of where they’re manually lighting the fireworks. while you’re squealing at the sudden change of position, he takes the time to smooth a courteous hand over the folds of your clothes and chuckles at your genuine shock. “better, right?” he asks. and he’s so brawny that the action is a breeze. you readjust your hold on his shoulders despite how flustered you are by how effortless it is for him to carry you, “it is! I can see now!” and when you press a sticky kiss on his cheek, he’s in bliss. likes the mark of gloss and lipstick that you leave behind. won’t wipe it off even if he gets teased for it later on. “only the best seat in the house for the best girl in the world,” he declares as your warmth emanates onto him and the sky is streaked in prismatic fireworks.

yuuji who wordlessly reaches out to shoulder any grocery/shopping bag that dangles in your grasp. for instance, if you’re on a little weekend date at the nearby plaza and the two of you are browsing then he’s full-on excited. his honeyed eyes light up whenever he recognizes the billboard of your favorite shop and he immediately knows that this’ll be a great day. adores shopping with you! sure, a couple of the customers might cast a strange glance at him whenever he pleads for you to try on clothes that he suggests. “please? I haven’t seen you in this color,” yuuji says, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice despite the close proximity of a store employee, “I’ll pay for it! my treat!” and he gets a bit dizzy while imagining you in all the frills and lace. just pretty, delicate fabric sitting on your soft skin that causes his fantasies to run wild. but he can’t be blamed! you’re drop-dead gorgeous to him! and if you lack self-confidence in how you look then don’t worry. yuuji’s perfect at reassuring you that you’re beautiful and he firmly reminds you that people are meant to wear clothes– not the other way around. eventually, his utter devotion to you eases your worries so it’s a huge win for him. loves that you trust him enough to let him decide on what you should buy! and once (yuuji) the both of you are finished paying and the retail employee hands you the heap of bags, you’re bracing yourself to carry them. because they’re all filled to the brim with clothes meant for you. but don’t even think about touching them! yuuji’s strong, calloused hands instinctively pluck them away from you. he balances the heavy load on a single, broad shoulder and uses his unoccupied hand to hold onto yours. and, surprisingly, he’s silent during the whole ordeal. like holding your bags was part of his duty of being your boyfriend. if you ask him his reasoning for it then he’ll shoot you a cheeky grin and chirp, “it’s easier to hold your hand like this!” and when he had first done this, you rationalized that this seemingly small yet significant gesture would be forgotten the more your relationship with him blossomed. nope. if anything, it’s gotten more apparent. the blushy haired male will even carry your purse around if you allow him to! never bats an eye to the quizzical stares or mocking laughs that he gets from it. he holds a certain standard for himself in regards to your relationship with him. and in all seriousness, he just wishes to alleviate the burden and inconvenience for you– no matter how meager it is.

[treedoctorusasworld]

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[sorcerous-caress]

Type of romantic gifts they'd give you

[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, Astarion, Laezel, Halsin, Minthara, Karniss]

Wyll

Flowers. Each bouquet conveys a different meaning and tells a hundred tales about his feelings for you. From the petal colours to the delicate ribbon holding the stems together, not a single detail was overlooked.

Enteries to both worlds. Invites to the most eloquent galas reserved for the noble class, elegent clothes and glittering jewellery. And warm heartfelt welcomes into the most popular tavrens for adventurers, even the dangerous ones greet you and Wyll with cold drinks and a warm meal.

A shoulder to lean on, someone to be your own hero. The royalty treatment becomes the norm for you, a quiet dance in your shared home, swaying slowly as the rain scatters against the windows outside.

.

Karlach

Cheesy handmade coupons for hugs. Physical affection is a big part of the way she shows love, yet no hugs feel better than the ones she knows both of you want, rather than only her. These hand drawn coupons are to give her reassurance in a way that you also crave her embrace as much as she does.

Taking you out to her favourite spots. Introducing you to all her past and current friends. Absolutely involving you in every aspect of her inner circles and slowly integrating you into her world. She wants all the people that she loves to know each other, to be there, and to support each other. Friends, family, and neighbours, she craves a community.

Carrying your stuff. Be it your bags, equipment, or anything. She enjoys being strong for you, never letting you lift a heavy thing ever. Giving you her jacket if you get cold, even switching your shoes if yours are uncomfortable. Dress however you want, she knows how to fight after all.

.

Gale

Homecooked meals. Frozen soup in food containers. You'll never go hungry with him around. Love is a major ingredient in each dish he makes, recipes passed down from generations. Restaurants' food becomes dull in comparison. No bakery dessert can compare to his home baked pie.

A picnic near the sea side. It's windy, the air is refreshing and nice. Waves come crashing gently, almost brushing against your feet before retreating back. Tara purrs in your lap, her wings warming your hand underneath it as you scratch her fur. Gale is by your side, telling you about a new discovery he made in his research. Content in staying by your side despite the crown laying at the bottom of the ocean in front of you.

Constellations seeming brighter, the sky looks as if it held twice as many stars than usual. There's a sparkle in his eyes, wrinkles at their edges from his smile.

.

Shadowheart

Wine/non-alcoholic drinks and sweets. She has a taste for delicacies and sharing them with you. Whatever she picks, it's always somehow very rich in flavour, melts against the tongue, and the aftertaste is an experience by itself.

Takes you to her home, visiting her parents who welcomed you as if you were another child of theirs. For the first time in her life, she has a family, and she wants to include you in it. You are a part of it, after all. A part of her.

Nursing your sickness away, sticking with you through thick and thin. Even at your most ill of states. She doesn't pat an eye at you throwing up, sneezing, or not having the energy to shower. She helps you through it. She never judges you over it, unconditional love in its purest forms as she ensures your recovery.

.

Astarion

Precious poetry he wrote himself. As much as he scoffs over anything too chessy, he can't help using his mother tongue and spinning endless lines about you in elvish in his private journal. On the rare occasion, giving you a glimpse through it. Pretending to leave his journal open by pure coincidence in front of you, on the exact page of the peom with your name on it.

The both of you traverse the underdark. He takes you to a special spot he found under a sussur tree. The blue glow of the silver branches lights up the edges of his hair like a halo, and your eyelids feel heavy with your head on his lap.

Stiching the holes in your clothes. Maintaining them in his free time and making sure they are cared for. Each piece that might hold a sentimental value to you or a precious memory receives special treatment from him. Sometimes, he stiches a joke or two into your undergarments that you don't realise until much later on.

.

Laezel

Gifts you a sharp and expertly smithed sword. Silver in colour with various ruby red stones decorating the handle, it feels at home in your grip, specifically made for your hands.

Takes you as her guide through Faerun, let's you introduce her to the places you love, the things you like. You can tell her interest is genuine, he curiosity is evident as she tries everything you recommend to her.

Reads to you, each night she'd indulge your curiosities and read one of the many githyanki literature disks you've accumulated. Her voice never tires, she pronounces each word with care and emotion. It's beyond soothing, even her comments inbetween narrating the story never fail to make you smile.

.

Halsin

Blessings of nature extend to you as well. The birds don't fly away when you approach, the tree branches don't get caught in your clothes, and the bugs take a polite detour around you as they crawl. He shares the love he received with you.

You've never seen so many children rush to you before, look up to you with respect, and search for guidance. He grants you the opportunity to raise the ones who will hold the torch after us, to imped your wisdom upon them, and help shape a better future.

Never growing cold again, buried deep against his soft fur as gaint bear paws hold you so softly. Despite the pouring snow outside, you sink deeper into his warm embrace. Cute round ears flicker in the corner of your vision, and you can't help but rub them alongside his soft belly.

.

Minthara

jewellery, each one is unique and more expensive than the last. Various earrings with pearls and necklaces with glittering diamonds. Even a special one that hugs your neck deliciously, with her name on it. Body accessories hugging your curves and wrapping around you. A pair of matching rings.

Takes you into her heart, behind the iron walls, behind the mazes of ice. Shows you her tender beating vulnerable flesh, the small kindness she protected so fiercely and hid from the world. Her true love, yours for the taking and yours alone.

The disembodied heads of your enemies in a gift box wrapped for you, everyone who has ever wronged you has their skulls displayed on the shelves. She becomes your blade, your sword and shield.

.

Karniss

Prayers. Offers them to you as he kneels, talking in a hushed tone as he begs a greater being for your safety, for your heart, and for you love. For their blessings upon him to shield you from the darkness, his split mind making him seeth in anger and hatred at all those who dared hurt or question you.

Brings you to his nest, a small cave with tight webs shielding the entrance. He teaches you how to slip through them, holds you close as he lifts you in his arms and makes passage inside. You're a very welcome addition to his home, his sanctuary.

Gifts you his venom regularly. Whether it's a kiss as his fangs slip past your soft lips and bleed venom down your throat, or a bite into the soft flesh of your neck that injects it directly into your veins. He builds up your resistance slowly so he may protect you from himself and anyone who tries to steal your life away.

[bussyyeukie]

an unhealthy obsession

stalker!konig x reader: sure this happens, but you never thought it'd be you, I mean, you didn't do anything...you didn't even talk to that many strangers, sure you were nice just not overly, and yeah you were attractive but not to the degree of being obsessed over, you didn't even have that much money for someone to obsess over! God why'd you always get the short end of the stick...

You were being haunted. You were sure of it. Maybe not by a ghost or demon (although you'd debated that), but by something.

As silly as it sounded, but your brain was more ok with that than the thought of someone stalking you. At this point you were more sick of it than scared, your clothes went missing just to turn up a week later smelling weird, your soaps and lotions would run out quicker than ever-and they were expensive. Your dirty glasses would wind up on the counter when you'd get back from work, new lips marks on them on-top of your old ones, especially if you'd worn lipstick. It would stop for a few months, or weeks at a time and just when you thought it was finally done for, it would start up again. One time after 5 months of nothing happening, you'd woken up and went to the bathroom, only to find it covered in piss. Like, covered, you had nearly moved at that point. Your window (which you'd close and lock at night) would be cracked when you woke up. The trees outside your window would insistently tap at the glass, and you'd come home sometimes to weird 'gifts' on your counters or in your fridge. One time you came home to a bottle of wine and a back of condoms on your living room table. You stayed at a friends house that night. Didn't even put your work bag down before you decided "nope, not staying here tonight. Not dealing with that."

You tried the police, but you didn't have any real evidence, and you hadn't seen the man (or ghost), had no idea who it could be, and you hadn't been physically attacked...yet. So they didn't do shit, only said to call them if it progressed. Which it did, and they still didn't help.

You'd even taken all the stickers off your car to try to make it less, recognizable. Not that it really helped, but, you didn't know that. Even if you got a whole new car it wouldn't help any.

The first time you met him was in the dead of winter when you'd stopped off at that grocery store for some cleaning supplies. There were odd stains in your clothes that would not come out, no matter how much you'd wash them.

The basket tucked in the crook of your arm pinched at your skin, even under the thick sweater and jacket you wore, weighed down with a bottle of bleach and some fabric cleaner-the spot treatment kind, and a bag of coffee grounds.

You adjusted it as you reached up on the shelf for a bottle of "stubborn stain remover". Seemed overkill but the stains were so common recently that you were willing to try anything. Even mixing chemicals. Normally you'd just throw the item out, but this was your all time favorite shirt, and you wanted to give it a fighting change.

Your basket was posing a challenge though, every time you'd reach up for the tall shelf the items would shift and knock around, pinching your further or just making it tough to hold the basket. You'd opted for setting it down next to your feet with a huff. Before looking back at your item, which you still found challenging to reach. It was on the very top shelf, and seemed to be pushed back. Which was odd that it would be in suck an inconvenient place.

"Ugh," you sighed, straining your reach to grasp at it, fingers trying to nudge it closer to you uselessly, "Come on..."

You tucked your chin down to you chest in hopes that would be the extra inch you needed. But after your side started cramping you just gave up. Settling back down onto your heels as you rubbed your forehead, thoroughly annoyed.

A shuffling at the end of the isle caught your attention, glancing over-which turned into whipping your whole head to look. A shocked look on your face, lips pressed tight and eyes wide as you looked at the man at the other end of the isle, holding a basket in his hand and reading the label of a bottle.

He was...huge. Beyond huge. This mans head was easily looking over the top of the shelves and the basket in his hand looked like a child's toy basket.

Your eyes raked up and down his body, he looked...suspicious to say the least. Wearing dark clothing and lots of layers, big boots and a ballcap that was tugged down his face. A mask covering the lower half.

Pulling your gaze back to the items in front of you, you felt a weird feeling of unease rack up your spine, rolling around your ribs and getting lodged in your throat.

Sighing, minorly upset you were judging this stranger so hard but, considering the stress you'd been under recently it wasn't a surprise.

You'd been shorter with people lately, and didn't talk to strangers as much as you did before. You also stopped going to new places pretty much all together.

As you tucked your hair behind your ear you rubbed the back of your neck, looking up at the item you needed. Quickly picking up on the heavy sound of footsteps approaching you. Glancing out of the corner of your eye to see the man walking closer, looking at the shelves as he passed.

As he got closer you tucked your backset closer to yourself, and further out of his way. Trying to eliminate any points of talking or interaction with the man before it happened.

Clenching your jaw as you chanted 'please just keep walking, keep walking, keep walking' as he grew closer. The music playing through the crackled speakers in the grocery store putting you even more on edge.

"Ex-kyoos me?"

You cursed to yourself and looked next to you, a tight smile on your lips as you craned your neck to look up at him. His voice was higher than you expected it to be, and he had a thick German accent.

"Um, yeah?"

You looked at his face, smile faltering a little at the look in his eye. It was...unsettling, he looked excited. From the skin you could see it was pale and had thick dark eyebrows, his eyes were pretty blue, even under the shadowing of the cap. He had almost a pleading look to him.

"I don't mean to in-trood, but," he chuckled a little, gesturing up over your head to the shelf, "I no-ticed you strug-gling a lit-tle bit."

His words sounded a bit clipped with his accent, and you felt your face flush as you looked off to the side.

"Um, yeah it's," you looked up to the shelf, "A little high for me, I was ab out to start climbing the shelf honestly."

You chuckled a little at your joke, and the man let out a sharp laugh and nodded.

"Ah ja, I vas vondering if you vere going to," he locked his eyes to you, holding an uncomfortable amount of eye contact, "However, I vould be more than happy to help if, ah you don't feel like clim-bing."

You shrugged, looking at the shelf and smiling kindly, "Yeah I'd be happy for the help, thank you."

As you were about to step off to the side, clear out of the mans way, he stepped forward, nearly trapping you against the shelf. Reaching up and grabbing the stain remover easily. Your eyes were wide as you were nearly nose to chest with the man.

Blinking owlishly as you looked up to his face, brows pinched together tighty.

"Um..."

He smelled of, old sweat, and something mildly familiar. But not enough to place. He also smelled of smoke, like wood smoke, or a old campfire or something along those lines.

He stepped back with the item and his eyes were crinkled like he was grinning happily under his mask.

"Heer you are bärchen!"

He held the bottle out to you, you hesitated to grab it, hand reaching out impishly to grab it, placing it into your basket. Eyeing the man up and down.

"Thank you?" your pitch peaked at the end, licking your lips nervously as you bit them.

"Of course," his tone was cheerful and he didn't back up any more, still far too close for comfort, "Vy else be zis tall if not to help, ja?"

You chuckled quietly with him, glancing down at his basket, and to his large, sturdy boots. There was mud caked on them, almost to the point it was flaking off.

"Yeah that's a good point there," you nodded, putting your hands into pockets.

"A lot of clee-ning sup-plies, yes?" the man gestured down to your basket.

You looked down to yours, sighing out, "oh yeah, my clothes just won't stay clean recently, not sure how they're getting so dirty."

You regretted saying it the moment it came out of your mouth.

"Ah, den zis vill help. My mutter used to use lemon to clean grass stains out of my clothing as a mäuschen," the man laughed, crossing his arms over his chest.

The man was a bout as wide as he was tall, your brain kicking into fight or flight as you looked at his arms, You swore you saw muscle moving even under all the clothing. His legs as well, they were obviously solid, about as thick as your torso.

"Oh, I'll try that one," you nodded along, then looked down at his basket. Almost upset that you noticed a handful of your favorite items, and your favorite brands.

That weird feeling made its way back with a vengeance. Nearly making you dizzy by how suffocated you felt being towered over by this man.

"I've actually," you grabbed your basket, lugging it into the crook of your arm, smiling sweetly at the man, but anyone could see how the corners of your mouth twitched and how tight your face looked, "I've really gotta get going, thank you very much though! It was very sweet..."

"Of course bärchen, any time."

You backed away, praying to any god out there that the man just let you leave. Quickly making your way out of the isle when he made no move to stop you, but he watched you intently the entire time until you were out of sight. Even then you felt like he was looking over the shelves to watch you. You must've broken a record with how fast you checked out and got to your car. Sighing heavily as you locked the doors. Smacking your head against the headrest.

The drive home was uneventful, but you'd taken a strange route just because you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that you were still being watching. Whipping around at a red light to look in the back seat of your car, finding nothing. Groaning to yourself and rubbing your face aggressively at how crazy you were acting. Really thinking someone tucked themselves into the back of your car-much less that 6'7" mountain from the grocery store.

"Christ, I'm loosing it."

When you got home your door was locked, and nothing was out of place inside. Putting your items away, and tossing your bag onto your couch. Feeling a wave of relief wash over you until you made it into your bedroom.

Where you found a package of your favorite chocolates on your pillow, and a pair of your missing underwear placed delicately by the chocolate, a pretty lacey bow tied around them.

You shouted loudly, throwing your heavy jacket down onto the floor, hair wild as you put your hands raked into it.

"God-damnit!"

[merakiui]

Mera, are you aware of the old horror movie/book Misery?  Lately, I’ve been thinking of a scenario of that with Dr Riddle. 

Imagine Dr Riddle Rosehearts is famous for his innovative surgery methods for removing clots in the liver and lungs.  Only, he hasn’t quite managed the same breakthrough on the heart.  Its hard to conquer the heart.  And quite honestly, he is sick of it.  All of it.  He never really wanted to go into this sort of exploratory medicine but his mother pushed him into it.  And now people expect things from him.  Things he isn’t sure he can deliver.  And…well, he’d rather just run away from it all.

Driving at night deep in the mountains, snow starts to fall gently.  Riddle isn’t familiar with this area or the roads.  He’d picked a way at random.  He was distracted by the call he’d made to his mother to tell her he resigned from his position at the hospital.  She’d had a few things to say about it.  That was putting it mildly.  They’d fought for at least an hour with Mother insisting Riddle return home immediately so she could lesson him properly on his duty and place.  He’d refused.  Now, here he is, driving recklessly through an unknown mountain range going nowhere but away. 

Suddenly, a tumble of rock, snow and greenery side across the road; a landslide.  Riddle slams on the brakes but his tires hit sleek ice on the roads and his car turns sideways before careening off the road and down the mountain.  Riddle briefly remembers the trunk of the tree approaching his windshield at an alarming rate before he didn’t remember anything at all.

When he awakens, Riddle is overwhelmed by pain.  His leg hurts, his back hurts, basically all of him hurts but mostly the leg.  He opens his eyes and is surprised to find himself in bed and not wedged behind the wheel of his ruined car in some death-trap valley on a mountainside.  He takes measure of his pain and notes his leg is indeed in poor condition.  He can’t see it underneath a heavy wrapped bandage, but his medical knowledge tells him it is at least sprained but mostly likely worse.  Taking in the bandage, Riddle appraises he’s had at least rudimentary medical attention.  It was nicely wrapped for a non-medical setting.

Then there is a knock at the door and reader arrives.  You greet the startled Doctor warmly and scold him to hold still while you examine his injury.  Riddle watches you carefully as you unwrap the injury (its gruesome), question him on his condition and then skillfully rewrap it in a fresh bandage.  You are trained at this.  When Dr Riddle questions you, you helpfully supply that you were once a nurse.  You’d learned the skill to care for a dear family member but they died of a blood clot in the heart. 

Part 1 of 2

Part 2 of 2

Riddle can’t help but be bitterly reminded of his own research and failure in the subject.  It appears you were thinking the same thing because then you shyly question if he isn’t THE Dr Riddle Rosehearts whose groundbreaking research provided new methods into improving outcomes in blood clot patients.  Riddle is startled.  He hadn’t expected to meet anyone with such in-depth knowledge of him and his work in a place like this.  Just who are you? 

You smile shyly at him and introduce yourself.  You are Nurse [Name], well, former nurse.  You had a relative with severe heart issues that inspired you to go into the field.  You’d paid special attention to lectures on heart-related treatments and experimental research in case it could help your relative.  Eventually, your relative got sick enough that you left the hospital to move to this remote mountainside and be their personal nurse.  They hadn’t survived.  Riddle tries to offer some shallow sympathy for your departed loved one but you wave him off.  You’ve moved past that and only hope that someday there will be a treatment so no one else has to needlessly lose someone they care about.  Then you look pointedly at Riddle.

Riddle doesn’t meet your eyes.  He knows what you mean, what you expect.  He is the great Dr Rosehearts and everyone thinks he can solve anything.  But he can’t.  And he doesn’t want to try anymore.  You smile sadly at his dismissal and tell him he might feel differently tomorrow.  Tomorrow?  Why can’t he leave today?  You laugh at his city sensibilities.  Who do you think is coming out to the end of nowhere to clear that road?  It will be a few weeks at least before anyone can leave this cabin.  Plus…you trail off and gesture to his leg.  Yes, it appears Riddle will be your guest for some time.

There isn’t a lot to do when you are bedridden with a broken foot.  Riddle read a few books you’d offered him, avoiding the medical journals you not so subtly mixed in, and listened to the radio.  Sometimes, you’d stop in and chat with him.  He enjoyed your lively conversation until the topic ultimately worked its way around to his abandoned research, which it always seemed to do.  Riddle never wanted to think about medicine again.  ‘But couldn’t you though?’ you always seemed to prod. 

He avoided the topic quite doggedly until the day arrived that the stack of reading material you offered him contained ONLY medical journals.  Riddle looked at you crossly and declared you to be as controlling as his mother in a snide voice.  You merely smiled darkly at him and departed the room, leaving him to his reading.  He tried to resist by humming songs to himself and gazing at the scrap of sky he could see out the bedroom window from his post in bed but before long he succumbed to boredom and reached for the journals.  When you arrived with his midday meal, you left him with lavish praise and a bowl of warm soup.  Riddle was loath to admit how both nourished him.

One day, you arrived and were very pleased to discover that Riddle had made an important breakthrough on his research.  It was just an idea he’d come up with while reading the numerous medical journals you’d left him, but it was progress.  You are so certain that your Dr Rosehearts is on the verge of solving this important issue.  You told him so confidently.  “Surely not,” Riddle replies and gestures to his leg.  It has been some time since the accident and the once broken limb is now barely wrapped with a light support for the ankle.  “I recall you said the road would be cleared by spring and my leg is clearly improved.”  You look at him aghast as he softly mutters, “I should be able to leave soon.”

He was right.  You could see it clearly.  Your Dr Rosehearts, leaving your cozy nest and flying far far away from you and his important research.  You can’t allow it.  If all that kept him here with you was a healing leg, well, that can be taken care of. 

When Riddle next awakens, he fights to push away the unpleasant memories.  You.  The sledgehammer.  His mangled leg and the pain.  So much pain.  The door is pushed open, and you merrily walk in with a tray holding a dish of oatmeal on top.  You greet him so warmly and wish him a very pleasant morning.  Then you spoon feed him his breakfast as tears roll down his ruddy cheeks.  You’ll be back later to hear about the important research you are doing together.  You pat the stack of journals meaningfully before you depart. 

Riddle ponders briefly which will be more likely for him to escape; the hated research or his loving caretaker/jailer?

- - -

OMG.

OH EM GEE!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOSH??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

RENDY-A, YOU ARE AMAZING!!!!!!! Sending an entire fic basically??!?!?! I LOVE THIS!!! SO MUCH!!!!!!!! This was such a treat to read. Dr. Riddle becoming the trapped one, at the mercy of the obsessed nurse!darling, based on Misery..... very delicious. Coercing him to finish his research, slowly but surely forcing him into it day by day as he remains bedridden. From giving him the option to choose the medical journals to ultimately rescinding that privilege and now it's the only reading material he's allowed. Riddle telling you you're just like his mother and all you manage is a smile!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAA OTL

He's going to remain your patient indefinitely. Maybe you'll let him go once the both of you finish your research, but that won't be for a long time. :)

[sleepyhouse2art]

here are some crayon drawings from the hospital. they are bad but its hard for me to draw with a tiny blunt crayon. i barely got to draw and i really missed it so i thought id share these and talk about my time away

was restrained for four days and shot up with haldol. was let up only to call my husband which i think is illegal because it was too many hours. the er wouldnt give me my meds so i think i went through withdrawal cause my anti only has an 18 hour half life you know? i didnt eat for six days altogether. there was a nice cook who sometimes made me special vegan things but being there was hard so my nerves were shot and i couldnt really eat much. after four days i was finally transferred to the psychiatric hospital.

this is my therapist. shes been my therapist for five years and we like each other but when she told me to go to the hospital she promised id go to a nicer one and the crisis van took me to the wrong one. she wouldnt call or talk to me or answer my husbands texts. i was very mad at her. i dont think ill bring it up to her on wed. i just want to vent i think. i know she takes good care of me.

a drawing of myself

a little guy, a tiny prayer. i missed smoking! i blasted so many cigs when i got home lol. i didnt use the nic patch cause those make me super sick so i muscled it pretty good

my handwriting translated because its kind of hard to read sorry:

a window which you cant see thru

i miss hearing music

infected

if you freak out they put you in a little room with a picture of a palm tree on the ceiling. they also give you drugs

this is jocelyn. they left her unshowered for a month and left her sitting in her period blood for three days. it stunk up the whole unit and people laughed at her and a very aggressive fat girl said it smelled like shark coochie. she was very very sick. she was too scared of the orderlies because they were so mean but my friend melissa coaxed her into letting her change her pants and pad. i pray god will protect her and watch over her.

little experiential details:

the windows were pasted over with this blurry stuff so you couldnt see a thing. no music. the tv was always on mute for some reason. the er and the hospital didnt treat my cuts so they got really infected, all yellow and hot, and i got a fever for three days which i worried would keep me in there for longer. when i arrived i had to strip naked in front of a man and a woman, which has happened to me before. they notated all my scars and tattoos. the man was very gentle though. he wore a kippah and was always nice to me. we are mispocheh.

the hospital was hard. i was often denied water and the bathroom for a long time for some reason. i drank out of my sink from my hands like an animal. the orderlies were universally mean and snapped at us to get our attention like we were dogs. the nurses and doctors and admin knew our names but there were forty of us on the unit so the orderlies would just scan our wristbands when they needed to know who we were and referred to us by our room number. the orderlies liked to talk shit about us to each other within earshot. this big fat lady with giant spider fake eyelashes who was always glammed out said about me (and i was better so i know i was not hearing things) "that creepy bitch. she got them big ass dark circles and them big eyes and she tiny like a bug. always peeking her head out the door." lol. one of the friends i made had a very serious physical illness, i think it was called mcas she said, a mast cell disorder, and they wouldnt give her her medication and she got very sick and they all said it was somatic and talked about her behind her back.

i made friends with:

my very best friend melissa who would talk with me for hours. she had mast cell like i said and was denied treatment cause they said it was all in her head. she had a horrible scarring breakup after a divorce and asked a cop to shoot her. she was a singer songwriter. she told me its not my fault my brain is different and that i was so compassionate to our friends and i should show that compassion to myself. she told me i was a good person and i cried a little, but i had to nut up because if they see you cry you stay there longer because it means youre sick.

a guatemalan/italian car detailer who loves cars and her cats. she was followed at 80 mph by a cop and arrested and put on a hold and sent to the hospital, where they told her she was paranoid and put her on antis. she was very short and very sweet and she would try fruitlessly to sort all the crazy mismatched shitty crayons.

an autistic trans woman with a beautiful name who was my bestie. we made each other laugh so much. we were blue band team because we had dietary restrictions so always went to the front of the cafeteria line. she was so funny. she would hold herself when she laughed like it hurt. she told me crazy stories about her vampire sugar daddy who had a mansion in italy and two girl bulldogs who kissed her. they drank pints of each others blood and also cow blood she said. i tried to defend her because she kind of couldnt and people were mean and called her a man because she has a beard and laughed at her. im normally a very passive person but i couldnt let that happen. she was trying to go to a nice group home and was excited but her guardian totally blacked out on her and wouldnt answer her calls or let her go. i worry for her. she was lactose intolerant and ate cheese all the time anyway and it gave her bubble guts. she tried to be vegan with me one day because she said i was her role model which was so sweet. she liked to pour mixed coca cola and ginger ale in her salad with ice and eat it that way.

a very autistic man who was timid and scared and very gentle. a very aggressive man was screaming in the dayroom and throwing things and crushing cups of water and he got terrified so me and my friend held his hands even tho we werent supposed to touch. he likes to build model trains. he had an apartment and a job but his sister was trying to put him in a group home.

a man with a big scar on his head who they were trying to send to the state hospital even tho he wasnt sick. they said he had schiz like i have but i dont think he did. he gave me one of his shirts because i was always cold and let me keep it. i brought it home. it is a new york shirt. he says new york sucks now. i told him i was being discharged and he said i was the wards little princess.

a former banker and 30 year dope addict who had cool tattoos to cover his tracks. he was from the west coast like i am and had been all over this country. he gave me his sweatshirt because i was freezing all the time. he was gentle and kind and the meds made him sleep sitting up. he was the only person ive ever met who knew who sugar pie desanto was. she is one of my favorite singers. i will post my fav song of hers tonight or tomorrow.

a pretty twenty year old girl with bpd. she was a new mom to a six week old baby with a beautiful name and she was already pregnant again. her baby daddy was a useless cruel moid trash man who lived with her but didnt pay for anything or take care of the beautifully named baby. she had an ed since she was 12 like me. we both were trying to stop purging and didnt do it at all while we were there. i wish her so well.

an artist who had schiz like me. he was lightskinned and very tall and shy and sweet. i think he had a crush on me lol because he seemed very disappointed when i said i was married. we talked about god and time travel and belief. he was lds and im a jew so we talked to each other.

my roommate who had schiz too. they put her on a first gen because she screamed for three days and then she slept constantly. we would wake up at five and talk for an hour and have so much fun and she would go back to sleep. she let me shower in the morning and she showered at night. she said i was very funny. i made her laugh which made me feel good because she was so sad normally. shed been to the hospital a lot like me too.

a big girl with bpd who was very nice and i was nice to her but we had a weird relationship. the first thing i ever heard her say was at the med window and she said she didnt eat voluntarily. it was weird because shed focus intently on me from her table in the cafeteria and watch me do my food rituals and eat what i could or would. she looked at my body a lot. we liked to talk about our cats together but it was just really weird.

other people i met:

this bipolar guy who was really manic. he said he was a songwriter and he would scream sing and do that trill thing. he was really aggressive and scared people and menaced the women and afab people. he said he wrote songs but they all looked like this:

he made me sign it for support lol

this very mean fat girl who i said good morning to and she said how are you and i said good, you doing okay? and she flipped out on me and was like what the fuck you mean am i okay and said watch yourself you stupid bitch i dont play that. so i was always kind of scared shed hit me. she was really rotten to my trans girl friend i talked about. it was rotten. i didnt like her at all.

this man who always touched me and bumped up against me in the cafeteria line and touched my hurt arms through my sleeves. he always tried to hold my friends hand. he was always asking me to play dominos and uno which i dont know how to play and i didnt want to play with him. i wasnt delusional anymore so i am very sure the constant serial killer staring he did at me was real. i was scared of him but didnt tell staff because i worried they would think it was my paranoia and i wasnt getting better.

all the orderlies were mean to me and treated us like legit animals and i hated them. all i did was keep my head down and apologize to them constantly for walking by then and asking for water and the bathroom and asking questions. i came home and asked my husband for water and a cig like i was still there which made him sad. i very much appreciate my big old nice house but everything feels like a beautiful luxury with which i must be careful. i know i wasnt hospitalized for long this time but this always happens to me when i am, idk why. guess it comes with the territory. a lot of julian from my kirche street pharmacy comics and art comes from me but in a much more extreme and tragic fashion. i relate to him a lot tbh. maybe other people with mental illness can relate to him too.

i still have big yellow bruises from er staff and orderlies grabbing me by the arms really hard. my cuts are all healed but i think theyll scar badly which sucks cause its summer. isnt the solstice on the 20th or something right? ive been thinking of taking pictures of my arms so maybe people can relate and feel less bad about theirs. i only started at 27 when i really started getting very sick and they are a mess and im really embarrassed but i feel comfortable showing you guys cause you know me. also i have sick dumb stick and pokes lol

ok this is really long i am so sorry its probably really boring and whiny and uninteresting but i guess this is my blog so you signed up for this ha ha 💀

thank you for all the love and care and support you have shown me. i scripted ten pages of hard core drugs in the hospital so now i just have drawing to do and i will resume my work tonight cause i really missed it. just have to uh decipher my fucking crayon bullshit lol. so look out!!

ok i love you see you later. btw if anyone is ever struggling my messages and asks are always open and dont feel weird about talking to me. honestly im a pretty open book and i love talking to people and relating and making new friends. i know this is corny but i just want people to know im someone whos always around ♥️✌️unless I'm in the fucking hospital LOL

[nelumbonuciferagaertn]

Hello! I just read your foey x reader and it was amazing so was wondering if you could do another doey x reader but the player is the reader if that's ok with you. And in it the toys escape and they live in their house. It was raining and the player goes back to the house and has a fever but refuses treatment and doey has to try and take care of them.

I don't mind if you don't like it but I hope you read this and I also have a question about what are your boundaries on your blog?

Sorry this was so long have a good day/night 🙂🙃

Doey (Poppy Playtime) x reader

Warning: Slight self-doubt, slight evocation of trauma

Relationship: Romantic with Doey, platonic/family with the other toys (such as Poppy, Kissy, Smiling critters)

Summary: The player get sick and Doey take care of them/him/her.

Notes: Your idea was just so sweet I couldn't refuse it <3. However, I changed some details. For example, the reader in my story accepts Doey's treatment after a little while. Speaking of the reader, I tried to write them as the player, as requested, but due to the fact that I am new in the fandom, I don't know if I succeeded. Moreover, I think I don't focus enough about the caring, so maybe I will write it again or do a rest, or perhaps I'll right a sick reader with an other character... Don't know. Anyway, I hope you won't be disappointed!

(I will do a post about the rules for the asking message later, good idea!)

***

You get into your car, the tiredness weighing on you. Before starting the engine, you look up at the stars to calm yourself. It was a hard day—talking to reporters about your adventure in the ex-factory, the experiments they performed on children, how you freed every survivor, and all that stuff. You put yourself through it because you want justice! (And maybe some benefits for the toys who live in your home now—money doesn't grow on trees.)

You start the car and drive toward your home—or at least that's what you hoped, because after 5 minutes, you crash into something, forcing you to stop the vehicle at the roadside so as not to block traffic. You get out of the car to assess the situation. Your tire is completely burst. Awesome! That means your only chance of getting home is on foot.

You had barely started walking when you felt a drop of water hit your forehead. Raising your head, you wonder if it came from a cloud or a streetlamp still wet from the night before—until you hear thunder rolling across the sky. The rain and storm aren't exactly comforting, but your house is less than two kilometers away, taking nearly 24 minutes to reach. You tell yourself you could do it in 12 if you run. So, you run for the first 8 minutes, then you're too tired to continue. Maybe you’ve let yourself go a little too much since you left the factory.

It's at that moment someone calls out to you. You don’t recognize the woman making sweeping gestures from the other side of the street. You stop, breathing heavily, as the girl crosses over to stand in front of you, so close you’re both under her umbrella, protecting you.

"Hello! Sorry to interrupt, but I saw you on the news and I just wanted to say what you did was crazy, but, you know, in a good way."

ou start to say thank you, but she continues almost immediately:

"And about the people you saved, will we see them more? Are they well integrated? Is their mental health okay? If not, I know someone who helped me a lot. I have his number, just wait a moment."

She rummages through her bag and pulls out a small piece of paper, placing it directly into your left hand. The contact makes you a little uncomfortable. "Sorry to interrupt. I hope I helped you. Have a nice day—or, well, maybe more like a nice night."

You look at the paper. A name, profession, and phone number are scribbled on it like the writer was in a hurry. The woman was... something. She wasn't mean, but something about her made you uncomfortable. Maybe it was the fact that she knew who you were, or her tireless way of talking—or perhaps the unexpected contact. You don’t know. But you decide to continue your way, walking now, despite the rain still pouring just as strongly as before.

When you finally get home, you were soaked to the bone. You drag yourself into the alley and are reaching for your keys when the door suddenly opens, revealing Doey.

"Welcome home pal! Why are you so wet, didn't you have a car? Whatever, come in."

He moves aside to let you in.

"I made dinner for the others. They left you some. Go eat, I’ll run you a bath."

Your day had been bad—until now. You give him a grateful look before carrying out his instructions. In the fridge, there are several types of meals—a wide selection to choose from. You pick your favorite among them. You eat quickly, eager to enjoy your hot bath.

When you arrive at the bathroom, you see the dough man adding some bath petals. This simple action makes your heart melt. Noticing you, he turns toward you and gestures toward the warm bath with a “Ta-dah!”, his big smiling mouth beaming.

You give him a grateful look and resist the urge to hug him. A small “thank you” and a little cough escape from your own mouth. "You're welcome, pal! Relax in the bath—you’ve worked hard for us." He leaves, letting you enjoy your soak.

You quickly remove your drenched clothes and toss them into the laundry basket. The woman’s paper, which you had shoved into your vest pocket, crumples, reminding you of its existence. You place it on the sink and cover your mouth with a hand as you cough. Then, you wipe yourself off with a damp towel, careful not to dirty the water Doey had lovingly prepared.

As he said, you get into the bathtub and relax. Your mind drifts between topics until your eyes fall on the piece of paper. The woman was weird, but she had a point—you didn’t even think of taking the others to see a psychiatrist. They really need it. Regret creeping in, you dip your head lower into the water, blowing bubbles with your mouth. You promise yourself you’ll look into it. Not now, it’s late, but maybe tomorrow? You have work, but you can take part of your lunch break to do a Google search. Snot is running from your nose, luckily you keep a stash of tissues right next to the bathtub.

You stayed in the bath nearly an hour. When you get out, your throat feels sore. You hope you haven’t caught something... That woman wasn’t sick, right?

Quietly—‘cause everyone else is sleeping and you don’t want to wake them—you go to your room. Already wearing your pajamas, you collapse into bed like a slime and fall asleep in the arms of Morpheus.

When you regain consciousness, you feel bad. Really bad. Your head hurts, your throat does the same thing, you feel tired and your nose is Niagara Falls. Yet you have to go to work. Plus, you have an interview about the experiment in the old factory. You concentrate all your strength on getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

As usual, Doey is already up, making breakfast. Poppy is here too, helping him. You know she’s an early riser, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen her help him before, or perhaps you didn't pay attention.

Poppy was the first to notice you. She greets you, and you try to respond—but a coughing fit cuts you off. They both turn toward you.

"«Are you alright?" They ask in unison.

You give a thumbs-up, one hand bracing against the table. As you lean over, you hear someone, the doll, approaching. She helps you sit on a chair, and in return, you help her onto the table.

“You seem weak today. Are you sick?” The little woman says.

"I wouldn't be surprised. You came home soaked yesterday." The big man adds, Doey adds, setting your breakfast down and cutlery in front of you.

You shake your head while eating, trying to deny their claims.

“Even if I am sick, I have interviews. I can’t take a day off.” you croak.

“I’ll go for you!” Poppy says brightly.

what.

"What."

“They’ll ask about the factory. As someone who was experimented on, I can explain better than you. No offense, but you just read the memos.”

"Ok, maybe, but what about my work?"

“Sick leave exists for a reason.” she insists.

"But I can't let you go alone —"

“Kissy will come with me. We’ve been through worse.” She points the tall pink toy you noticed now. She just woke up you tell yourself, emphasizing her tired look

“No, I can’t let you take my responsibilities.”

After a while, while Doey prepares the table soon and, you have eaten just the half of your plate.. Eventually, while Doey sets the table for the other toys who will wake up very soon and give to Kissy her plate, you’ve only eaten half of yours. You’re just not hungry.

“See? You didn’t even finish. You’re definitely sick.” Doey says, clearly worried but a bit annoyed too.

Your pride kicks in. You try to prove you’re fine—stand up, take a few steps toward the coat rack… and collapse when you were at two pace of your objective.

Fortunately, Doey was here to catch you just in time, following your shaky gait. He carries you like a bride.

“You really need—humph?!”

You push his head back with both hands stretched out towards his face (old habit) and move yours away as far as possible, in defiance and, a little, out of embarrassment. Bothering him, he sighs and adjusts his hold, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes You squirm, but he keeps a firm grip on your ankle—not tight enough to hurt, just enough to hold you still.

He takes you to your room where he sets you down gently on your bed. Despite your headache sit up, determined to argue but he presses his yellow index on your forehead and use a little strength to push you on your bed a second tim lightly pushes you back down. Tired, you don't protest this time, letting him cover yourself with your blanket.

"Stay here, I'll get you some medicine."

You’re still unsure, but your aching throat and head are convincing. Thus, you stay.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep again. When you wake, the Smiling Critters are all curled up around you—on your pillow, at your feet, on the covers. It’s adorable. Suddenly, your stomach groans to warn you are hungry, waking up the toys around you.

The first to stir up was a unicorn. Odd Ed if you well remember. He looks at you and say:

"Oh! You're awake. I'll tell Doey!"

You try to protest, but he’s already gone. You were sighting in defeat whereas the little guy comes in your room again.

"He'll bring food and meds."

After hugging you one by one to wish you a speedy recovery, every little toys leave you room while Doey enter in, letting both of you all alone.

“Hey again, pal! I brought cough syrup, soup, and tea to soothe your throat.”

"But... What time is it? Did I miss the interview?!" you ask, voice hoarse.

You think he is start to loose his patience because you see red teeth appear, his eyes narrow, and his expression darkens slightly.

“You’re sick. You need rest. Work can wait.”

You prefer not argument more. Seeing you surrende, he becomes chill again and drops off the tray he bringed to you. A warm soup, a hot tea, a throat syrup and a product to unblock the nose were waiting to be used. You admit even if you slept nearly five hours more than usual, you are exhausted. Thus, you decide to not protest again and let your pal takes care of you.

He sits where were your feet while you bring your knees towards your chest.

“Here, some meds to ease the pain and I made soup with leftover veggies.”

You tilt your head, asking how he knows how to make soup. And somehow, he understands you. In fact, the majority of the toys you saved understand you even if you don't talk too much. However, it's different with him, you think. He has a grasp of you with even more ease. It's like a link between both of you. Or maybe that's just a hallucination of your beloved drugged mind.

Before answering you, he pulls a spoon out of nowhere, dips it into the soup, and then guides it towards your mouth. Your head is turning red, but you accept the bite by opening your mouth. While guiding the spoon directly to you, extending his arms, he answers your quiet question:

“Since we’re not recognized as citizens yet, we can’t work. So we take care of the house instead. You shelter and feed us, this is how we repay you. Honestly? I’m kinda glad you got sick, so I can take care of you for once!” He laughs softly.

You smile, but guilt creeps in.

“We”? So the others have the same way of speaking? But, you’re not as saintly as he explains. You literally didn't take them to see a shrink! The soup is really good, by the way, it warms your injured throat, you say to yourself.

“You make me sound perfect, but I’m not… I don't offer you a castle. My apartment is so small that you share two rooms for twenty-eight. A-And-..." A coughing fit stops you in your tracks.

Doey comes near to you and runs his hand over your back kindly, drawing circles on it. When you calm yourself, he starts to reassure you.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, you're doing great!"

"But-" You start to stutter, tears welling up in your eyes. You continue after wiping snot from your nose.

"But I didn't try to keep your mental health stable!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I didn't seek a psychiatrist for you despite all the horrible things that the scientists inflicted on you."

Doey was perplexed hearing your words. He hesitates a moment, looking elsewhere, and finally said:

“It’s true. We’re still healing. But you’ve made life easier. You’ve given us hope, believe me.”

He pulls you into a hug, and you return it.

"Seems we aren't the only ones who need a therapy session!" He giggles, relaxing the atmosphere.

You laugh, sniffling.

"Yeah, you definitely have trauma, but you’re not the only one... The factory was literally hell!"

Time passes quietly. Eventually, you fall asleep in his arms. Doey lays you down gently, covers you, checks your temperature—it’s gone down. He opens the window for fresh air, then quietly leaves, closing the door behind him.

You both needed that moment and you’re grateful for each other.

[phightingheadcanons]

Fictional inpherno diseases. Some are based off hcs I adopted from this blog and I lowkey don't remember the tags of those anons so apolocheese. A lot of those are based off the hc that inphernals convert sleep and food straight to energy without any waste except time

1. DEG(Dysfunctional energy generation) is a chronic disease inphernals have a chance to get upon spawning. The disease causes the inphernal's body to convert more amount of sleep and food resources into less energy. Common symptoms include: an overly increased appetite, somnia, constant fatigue, constant headaches and non age-related horn discoloration(horns generally become a duller color with age unless certain medicine is used) Some characters with this disease include Spray Paint, Medkit and, to some extent, Lightblox

2. Horn overgrowth, also one you can get upon spawning. It has similar symptoms to DEG but they are caused by the body putting too much of the generated energy into growing horns. It comes in two varieties: spiked and ringed. In the spiked form the imphernal grows many, many small horns on the head. In the ringed form, the horns grow way too much and require very frequent trimming. No characters in the game have so many horns to have the spiked variety but Pwnatious have the ringed variety in a reduced form.

3. Energy hypergeneration, also known by some as nuclear reactor syndrome. It comes on a spectrum of severity and is the opposite of DEG. The body produces more energy with less sleep and food resources. This may put a toll on the body because it isn't designed to handle that much energy. Depending on the severity, some symptoms include: hyperactivity, constant fidgeting, insomnia, muscle and joint pain and headaches. Some characters with this may include Coil, Boombox and Subspace.

4. Glass horn syndrome. If an inphernal doesn't get enough energy aources in their early childhood, their horns may become fragile and transparent. Although it can be fixed if treatment gets started in childhood to mid teen years via extra energy sources.

5. Overgrowth syndrome/curse, when an inphernal's body gets overtaken by a tree. Not very common, but not rare either. It is, in some cases, lethal because of the tree room system damaging of hijacking the brain or attacking the horns and often leads to paralysis. Vinestaff got the long end of the stick as her plant part doesn't spread farther than the arm and tail.

Das all for now

- star wars anon

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THATS SICK AS FUUUUCKCKKKKKK I LOVE FICTIONAL DISEASESSSS

i love how some of them arent immediately fatal <<333

sounds weird but like a lot of ppl when making fictional diseases theyre like super fatal for whatever reason but idk no hate to the fatal diseases i love fictional diseases :3