#i want high nostrils so bad but my allergies are so bad it would be excruciating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hockeynoses · 2 years

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hi! could we possibly get more messy steve? maybe he has a cold and is experiencing allergies on top of it? you don’t have to write this if you don’t want to, i’m just obsessed with your work honestly ❤️

Title: Smokin’ in the Boys’ Room

Summary: Steve’s at school with a bad cold. A classmate has some perfume that he’s allergic to, and he has to escape to the bathroom to snz his head off in peace. Turns out, Eddie is skipping class and is already in the stall next to him.

Rating: 18+. Only one mention of below-the-belt stuff. Eddie has the kink.

Length: 2.7k.

Warnings: Mess! (What the prompt says.) 😈

Notes: I had this idea of a pre-canon Steddie where they’re both still in high school. This characterization of Steve goes directly against what I wrote in my other fic where he’s totally fine snzing in front of classmates. This version probably makes more sense. 😅

Although he and his friends usually sat in the back of the classroom, Steve was especially grateful for it today. He’s hoping the other students will keep their eyes to themselves and not have a reason to pay him any particular attention. Unfortunately, he’s in the midst of a terrible head cold, and his dad had drilled into him that taking sick days was a weakness. So here he is in the back of the class, trying not to turn into a sneezy mess.

He feels disgusting. He’s doing his best to hide his illness from the other students and not attract any unwanted attention. A tough feat, when his nose is bright pink and he’s so stuffed up that he has to breathe through his mouth. It’s not a good look. Too frequently, he has to attempt to sniff up the congestion in his nose, clogged and squeaking. His sinuses are practically throbbing at this point, but he doesn’t want to blow his nose in front of the class. He can only imagine how gross and embarrassing that would be. No, he has an image to uphold.

He's trying to stifle any sneezes that happen to sneak their way out. The small packet of tissues he’d brought with him is almost empty, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do when they run out. At least with those, he has something to wipe his nose with other than his sleeve or his hand. He’s counting down the minutes until he can escape to go blow his nose in the bathroom, or anywhere with a modicum of privacy. Tommy and Carol are being chill for now, but he doesn’t want to press his luck and have them start in on him for being a plague rat.

His thoughts are interrupted by the telltale tingle in his sinuses, and he has just enough time to get a tissue from the packet and muffle a sudden “K’nxxgt!” into it. Giving the tiniest blow, he’s still dismayed by how messy it is, wiping his nostrils clean and stuffing the wet tissue in his pocket.

For the last half hour of class, they’re given time to work on their group project. “Working” is a strong word to describe what’s actually happening. They’re mostly just messing around, shooting the shit, and agreeing that they can probably throw this project together a day or two before it’s due and call it good. Jessica is in their group as well, and she, Tommy, and Carol are currently gossiping about their fellow classmates. Steve’s too drained and distracted to contribute much today.

His nose starts to run again, and he wipes it on his shirt sleeve as covertly as possible, once again trying to snuffle up some congestion. It doesn’t really work, and in fact, serves to shift the pressure in his sinuses in a way that has him gearing up for another sneeze.

He panics, fumbling with the packet of tissues for something to contain it, and he silently curses, realizing it's his last one. Better make it count, then. The sneeze erupts from him so suddenly that he barely has time to cover, but thank god he does. This one’s too powerful to stifle, and he gasps right before a rough, messy, “ha-AETSSHHHoo!” is released into the soft cotton.

He stills for a second, face still covered, and notices a few heads turn his way. Tommy gives him a half-hearted, “Dude, gross,” before smirking and continuing his conversation with the girls.

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, before mopping his face up and hiding the tissue away. Now he was truly fucked, and would have to stifle for the rest of the period. Wishing he could have stayed home today, he rests his head in his arms on his desk and tries to zone out for a while.

He manages to get a few moments of rest, although leaning forward like this isn’t doing his clogged nose any favors. He still has to sniff up the mess dripping from his nose every so often, hoping the sound is muffled in his arms. At least this way he can wipe his nose on his sleeve and no one can see him.

Distantly, through the fog in his brain, he hears Carol and Jessica talking about cosmetics or something. Their shrill, excited voices are starting to make his head hurt. He peeks out through a gap in his arms and watches as Carol says, “Oh wait! I almost forgot; I brought that sample for you today!” She reaches inside her purse and pulls out a small vial of what he’s assuming can only be perfume. “I didn’t like how it smelled on me, so here, you can try it.” She hands it over to Jessica, who thanks her.

Steve groans into his arms. He’s allergic to like half the fragrances in existence, most of them either giving him a headache or sending him into a flurry of itchy sneezes. This had better not be one of them. He’s just hoping she won’t – aaand she’s spraying it directly into the air in front of her and wafting her wrist through it. Perfect. The movement scatters the mist in the air, most of it dispersing towards him. He steels himself, bracing for the worst.

The smell hits him and he sits up, waving a hand in front of his face, saying, “Jessica, what the hell?” His eyes are starting to water already. He tries to cover his face from the contaminated air, but the damage is done. Inhaling a plume of the strong-smelling perfume, he feels a deep itch settle into his sinuses. Shit, this is going to be bad.

The girls both give him a look, Jessica saying, “Jeez, Steve, you’re so sensitive,” and rolling her eyes.

“Oh I’b sorry,” he says, angrily cupping his hand around his nose, “Itd’s dnot like I can control what I’b allergic to! Hep-tissh! Hih’chmm!” he pinches his nostrils shut and stifles both sneezes into his hand, followed by a frustrated exhale. His fingers come away wet and he wipes them on his jeans, giving a syrupy sniffle.

“You okay, man?” Tommy asks.

“I d-don’t- heh- I don’t hih’kXXT! Ha-pssht! Ugh.” Sniffling, he wipes his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a trail of moisture that he wipes on his pants again. “I thigk I should probably go. Eh-ITSSH! Ah…hah-RRSSSHuh!” The last two burst from him, desperately caught in his cupped hands. He can feel the slimy mess in his palms, and there’s no way he can take his hands away from his face without it being absolutely humiliating.

Standing up to leave, he says to the teacher, “I’b goigg to the bathroob,” before walking out as casually as he can manage, one hand still cupped around his face. He hears her confused acquiescence as he flees out the door and into the mercifully empty hallway. “ihhh…huh-TCHHHOO!” He curls forward as another sneeze scrapes out of him, echoing down the hall. It adds to the mess in his hand, and there’s only so much he can do to contain it.

He reaches the nearest bathroom and opens the door, still one-handed, sprinting inside. Eyes watering and vision blurry, he enters the closest stall and locks it, finally collecting a huge wad of toilet paper from the dispenser inside. He pulls his hand back from his face, cords of clear mess still clinging, and sops it all up. Giving a long, gurgling blow into the mass, he finally feels some relief. It’s short-lived, of course, followed directly by an itchy “hhhh’RISSSH! ETSSSH! Hah….uh….HEH’TSSSHHuh!” He groans, filling the toilet paper with another productive blow, then throwing it into the toilet. At least he’s finally alone and he can get it all out.

[A few minutes earlier]

Eddie stands in the stall, tapping his pack of cigarettes against his palm. Today is boring as hell, and the unit they’re covering in his math class is one of his least favorites. He already has all the answers for the homework from last year, anyway. Since they don’t let you leave during the day in this prison of a school, one of the only options is hiding out in the restroom, where sometimes he manages to smoke and not get caught.

Just as he’s about to light up, he hears the bathroom door slam open and footsteps hurry into the stall next to him. Whoever the mystery man is, he gives a truly nasty-sounding nose blow followed by several violent sneezes. Curiosity peaked, Eddie bends down to look at the other boy’s shoes underneath the stall wall. It almost sounds like… yep, those are definitely Harrington’s pristine rich-boy shoes.

He hears Steve’s voice, rounded with congestion, say, “Ugh, gross,” followed by a desperate sniff.

“Uh…you alright, Harrington?” asks Eddie, tentatively.

“Jesus Christ!” Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. “I didn’t thigk adyond was ind h-here! Ha-K’GGSSHHoo! Heh-D’TSHH!” Eddie can hear the clunk of the toilet paper dispenser spinning again as Steve pulls more out.

“Yeah, well, I’m here.”

“Who?” Steve asks.

“Munson.”

Steve snuffles into the tissues in his hand, asking, “You wadda give bme some privacy, bman? Eh…ha-RSSSHHuh!”

“Hey, I was here first, so technically you’re the one invading my privacy,” Eddie says. He knows he’s being a little shit, but he can’t help but press Steve’s buttons. He’s had an unfortunate crush on the guy for a while now, and he supposes this is the equivalent of pulling his pigtails on the playground.

Before Steve can come up with a response, he’s overtaken by another round of agitated sneezes. “uh…huh-ESSSH! Hah-ISSSHuh! G-god… heh’RSSSH! gk’ITSSHHah!” Eddie can picture him holding the clump of tissues to his nose, gasping in the aftermath, spent. Every sound he makes is echoing off the tiled walls, reverberating in the empty bathroom. This is doing nothing to help Eddie’s ongoing quest to quash his reluctant, nagging crush on King Steve, of all people.

“Good lord, man, you sound like you’re dying,” he says, aiming for casual. “I’m almost impressed.” He puts his cigarette away for now, deciding to spare Steve and his poor nose, assuming the smoke would set him off even more.

“ihh’ISSSH! Hih’GSSHUH!” Steve moans, the crumpled toilet paper in his hands soaked and unable to hold anymore. When he pulls it back from his face, there are tendrils of mess tethering him to it. “Fugk,” he says, reaching for more. To his horror, the roll is empty. “Goddamb id!” Pressing the wad of soggy tissues back to his face because he has no other choice, he asks, “Hey mban, cand you pass bme some toilet paper?”

A flush blooms across Eddie’s face and neck and he tries to keep his voice even. “Uh, yeah, just a second.” Pulling at the roll and collecting what he deems to be an appropriate amount, he reaches over the top of the stall and holds the bundle over. His eyes track the movement of Steve’s hand as it grabs for it, clumsy and distracted. His fingers brush Eddie’s in the process, and Eddie feels electric. He chides himself for getting all heated at the touch of a hand, just like in the medieval fantasy novels he reads.

Eddie brings his hand back down, staring at it for a moment, and of course there’s nothing to see. But still, as he hears Steve’s relieved blow in the stall next to him, long and crackling, he thinks, fuck it, and uses that hand to cup himself through his black jeans. Just a teasing squeeze, nothing more. Just to take the edge off.

Closing his eyes and resting his head back against the cool metal, he listens to Steve catch his breath next to him, a momentary relief before his breath starts hitching again. Then, a thick sounding, “huh-GGKSSHOO! Hh’AETCCHuh!” as more of the gunk is forcibly expelled from his sinuses. Steve follows it up with another squelching blow that makes Eddie wonder how it’s possible for one person to produce so much snot.

“I gotta be honest, Harrington, I’ve never heard anyone sound this bad,” says Eddie, grateful for the thin sheet of metal separating them, if only to hide what Steve’s condition is doing to him.

“Idt’s allergies,” Steve says, sounding cross.

“It doesn’t sound like allergies, dude,” says Eddie, hoping he sounds less invested than he is.

“Well Jessica sprayed her new fucking perfube in class, and it set mbe off, so yeah, it’s allergies.”

“If you say so,” Eddie says with a shrug that Steve can’t see. He could tell it was more than that. Had seen him covertly blow his nose at his locker between classes more than once this week.

“gk’SHOO! Heh’TSSHHoo!” Two spraying sneezes punctuated by a miserable sniffle. “…I bmight have beed feeling a little sick before thad, too,” he admits, exhausted and tired of hiding it. He clears his throat and Eddie can practically hear the mucus draining down the back of his throat.

“As much as it pains me to ask this, do you need me to get anyone for you?” Eddie says.

“Dno, I’b fin’d.”

“Alright… if you’re sure,” Eddie says, finally forcing himself to exit the stall. “Don’t sue me if you end up dying in here or something.”

Steve comes out too and Eddie finally gets a good look at him. His nose is so red, and his sleepy eyes are hazy and watery from his cold. The top of his lip is starting to look chapped from all the nose blowing he’s been doing, and there’s a faint flush across his cheeks. Eddie’s heart thumps in his chest and he thinks he might be in love.

Steve starts to walk toward the sinks to wash his hands. In his wearied state, his shoe catches on the tiled floor and he stumbles. Eddie reaches out instinctually to steady him with a hand on his elbow.

“Shit,” Steve says, his hand grabbing Eddie’s arm to right himself. “S-sorry- ihh-hih’TISCHoo!” he buries his head in his opposite elbow, doing his best to turn away from Eddie.

Still holding his elbow, Eddie feels Steve’s body jolt with the force of it. He tries to control the blush that heats his face.

Wiping his nose on his shirt sleeve, Steve straightens back up, looking a bit dizzy. The overwhelming combination of his horrible cold and intense allergies has really done a number on him. Eddie’s eyes zero-in on the wet spot seeping into the shirt in the crook of Steve’s elbow and his brain momentarily fills with static.

“Sorry,” Steve says again, sniffing and knuckling at his nose. Eddie’s snaps out of it, looking Steve in the eye and releasing his hold on him.

“Uh…you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah bman, I’b good.” They both turn to the sinks and wash their hands.

Eddie breaks the awkward silence with, “Is this the part where you tell me that if I tell anyone about this, you’ll kill me?”

Steve laughs despite himself, and it forces a chesty cough out of him, which he covers with the paper towel still in his hand. “Dude, don’t mbake mbe laugh right dow,” he says, unable to hide his reluctant smile. Eddie’s going to melt into a puddle on the floor. “Dno bman, I thigk we’re good,” Steve continues, voice growing hoarse.

“Okay…good,” Eddie says, flashing a crooked smile. He pauses, not wanting to break this tenuous truce they seem to have created. “Feel better, King Steve.”

“Thaggs.” Steve gives him a look that Eddie can’t quite figure out. Like he’s reassessing something in his head.

Tearing himself away from the moment, Eddie gives Steve a mock-salute, and strolls out of the bathroom.

Years later, when they’re a few months into their new relationship, Eddie asks Steve if he remembers that day.

“Barely… I was kind of out of it,” is Steve’s considering response.

“Well, I remember,” Eddie says, “It’s burned into my brain for all eternity. After that private show, there was no one else for me but you, baby.” He punctuates his declaration by pressing several dramatic, sloppy kisses along Steve’s neck, working his way up to his lips.

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs, reveling in the attention.

“You love it.”

“Yeah, I do,” Steve says, fisting a hand in Eddie’s shirt and pulling him in for a real kiss.

#snzfic #snz fic #snzblr #ste/ddie #snzfics #snz fics

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itchy-twitchy-sneezes · 2 years

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🌡🤧🌸🕯👃✨🤝🍲 Bloody painter!! THEY ARE LITERALLY MY FAVORITE PASTA!!

🌈: would Hellen sneeze from the stench of a corpse he has yet to deal with properly?

so i dont know much about this character since i was out of the fandom for a few years (he was around but i was like 10 - 12 and was mainly interested in slenderman) but i just read the description of them in the wiki and will do my best

🌡: Do they tend to run hot or cold? When they have a fever, is it barely noticeable, or does their temperature skyrocket?

he tends to have more low to moderate fevers but they still make him feel very cold. he shivers a lot. if he does get a high fever, he gets hot flashes but is still primarily cold.

🤧: What does their sneeze sound like? (Description, spelling, or both!)

he has a quiet, sharp sneeze and usually stifles unless he is in a position where he cant or doesnt have the energy. they can get quite messy though and come with a lot of spray. ex (stifled then regular); "huH- huh'ptch! hIH'tshh!"

🌸: Are they allergic to any kind of plants? Flowers, weeds, trees? If yes, how bad are their allergies to those plants?

he's badly allergic to roses and morning bells, usually sneezing within close proximity of them and unable to stop until he's away from them. he'll continue to sneeze throughout the day because of it. he's also allergic to tree pollen but it doesn't make him sneeze as much unless he directly sniffs it. his face gets really itchy though and he gets a lot of stuck sneezes.

🕯: Are they allergic to other things? Dust, animals, perfumes, certain fragrances? Anything that might be considered “out of the ordinary” to be allergic to? How bad are those allergies?

he's allergic to a lot of perfumes/colognes and cats. it usually takes a while before he really starts to feel it, initially just making his nose tickle and causing a few sneezes. he also has a mold allergy that gets triggered a lot in the fall, especially mixed with all the tree pollen. this causes tons of fits and a constant itch in his nose.

👃: In general, how sensitive is their nose? Can something like a certain flower or smell make them sneeze even if they’re not allergic to it? Do they sneeze a lot on average, or not very much? Does their nose twitch a lot, or barely ever at all?

he's not terribly sensitive, usually only sneezing about once or twice on an average day. his nose doesn't twitch too often. he is sensitive to strong or sharp smells and they can cause him to sneeze quite a few times, especially if it's a very sudden hit of the smell.

✨: What would be the best way for someone to induce them? Feathers, rolled-up tissue, or something else? How much stimulation would it take for them to start sneezing? Would inducing produce just one or two sneezes from them, or multiples?

feathers usually get him sneezing if he's induced for a while. the sneeze will build for a minute though, making him hitch and his nostrils flare. it will eventually work if he doesnt bat it away first. spices are best for inducing because of the smell and can get him to sneeze almost immediately. both will cause quite a few sneezes, usually at least 5

🤝: Do they like to be taken care of when they’re not feeling well? Or do they hate it when people fuss over them? If they do, what’s their favorite thing about being taken care of? If not, why don’t they like being taken care of? How bad would they have to be before they’d let anyone take care of them in any capacity?

he doesn't dislike being taken care of but it's a bit awkward for him at first. he enjoys getting the things he wants and may overstretch this power a bit. he usually will allow himself to be cared for once it's offered but he won't ask anyone to take care of him unless he's unable to take care of himself. ex; vertigo/dizziness, nausea, excessive pain.

🍲: What do they like to eat while they’re sick? Do they like soup, or would they prefer something that isn’t “sick person food”? Do they lose their appetite when they’re sick, or are they hungrier than usual?

he gets a bit more of an appetite when he's hungry and likes to have ice cream despite already feeling cold. though, he likes soup too. his favorite soup is tomato basil.

🌈: WILD CARD!!! Make up your own question or just talk about the character!

it depends. if he's been there as it's rotting, he wont even really notice. but if the corpse has been sitting for a while and he walks into the room it's in, the smell will hit him suddenly and he probably will sneeze a few times

i hope i did alright! this person is super cool and i think more people should follow them

#snz #sneezypasta #sneeze #sneezeblr #sneeze kink #bl/oody pai/nter

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taeyohonic · 3 years

Text

stolen dances | chap. 11

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: swear words, therapy talk

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 2300

links: prev. | next [masterlist]

note: lower case letters intended

chapter summary: seokjin mid sneeze would ruin half of your wedding pictures.

“let’s do this picnic then,” jungkook breathes against your skin and you feel a headache coming – again. you don’t know what you expected, but for him to not even comment on the fact that yoongi is your therapist, is well… kind of insulting.

“yeah, let’s do that,” you agree and let go of his ear. you go girl! tell him exactly how you feel.

“is there a reason i’m not allowed to carry anything?” he’s struggling with the basket as well your backpack and the two iced coffees you hadn’t noticed before. still, jungkook is not letting you help him in any way, his sunglasses are as high up his nose as his ego.

“nah,” he scoffs with humor, “you’ll just drop the coffee – can’t risk it.”

“that was one time,” you argue and push a single finger straight up his nostril. jungkook scrunches his nose adorably before he pushes you away.

“gross, ____”

the weather is nice and you can’t help the spring in your steps as the two of you join the many visitors. for a moment you’re afraid of them recognizing your former idol friend. but jungkook doesn’t seem to care – he is more focused on the melting ice in your drinks. and he knows his bodyguard is close by. but you haven’t noticed the bulky man following behind you.

“can we move closer to the tree line?” you ask him, not wanting to join the couples sunbathing. nah, your hangover is not smiling kindly upon your headache. shade and some non-alcoholic liquid should do the trick.

“of course” your best friend changes directions and guides you to the more secluded area. the air smells fresh and you take a moment to breath it in – not even thinking about helping jungkook set up the picnic. the green is vibrant around you and for a second you imagine how beautiful his wedding would have been if it was right here. right now. but no, they had to do an autumn event. you want to get married in spring, you think and feel a smile touching your lips.

“why are you looking like that?” your friend asks, already seated on the soft blanket, sipping on his iced coffee.

“i’d like a spring wedding,” you answer, not even filtering your thoughts – you shouldn’t have to in front of your friend. jungkook’s reaction is close to comedic gold: his eyes widen while he sucks a breath of caffeine in his lungs; coughing harshly.

you move on instinct, closing the distance and rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“wh- what the-e fu -…fuck?” he coughs and pushes against your touch to lean further on you.

“spring… it’d be so pretty, don’t you think?” you start after checking that he’s breathing normally again. “and just imagine the sea of flowers during this time. i really like the idea.”

you are met with silence. a long one. without looking at him, you grab your drink and take a sip.

then, jungkook answers. “your skin would look lovely against cherry blossoms.”

now you’re the one speechless – who even says stuff like that?

“don’t be condescending, kook,” you respond, willing your cheeks to discolor asap. your best friend just chuckles.

“i’m telling the truth, ____,” jungkook protests as he grabs your hand and holds it up against the treetops. “look, your skin glows.” his fingers push against your palm and you’re just… not stable enough for this. with a silent shudder you escape his touch.

“don’t say stuff like that to me, jungkook,” you voice rather harsh and you avoid his questioning gaze. you miss his touch as much as you hated it in the first place. jungkook doesn’t answer for a moment, but when he does, there is a forced joke on his lips.

“jin-hyung would be sneezing 24/7 with his allergies.” true, the oldest always looks in so much pain when you all move around during pollen season. you chuckle and try to get your thoughts away from a very unattractive mid-sneeze seokjin and more focused on the cupcakes peeking out of jungkook’s basket.

“can’t have my man of honor sabotaging all the wedding pictures,” you snort and grab one of the baked goods – it’s an apple crumble muffin, making your mouth water instantly.

“hah” your best friend laughs at you while some crumbles fall into your lap. “if taehyung isn’t your man of honor, he’ll prank bomb the hell out of your wedding.”

“what about you?” you ask and face him fully, the half-eaten muffin in your palm an unspoken invitation as jungkook snatches it from you. he takes a bite and you think he regrets taking off his sunglasses. his eyes look at you hesitantly.

“i’m not sure you’d like to have me as your man of honor,” he confesses and you watch him with surprise. is he the same person who wanted you to become his best man a few days ago?

“why would you think that?”

“you know,” jungkook starts and moves an inch away from you – his palms are pressed into the blanket. “the last few weeks i felt like… maybe there are some… moments where this” – jungkook’s head moves between the two of you – “wasn’t as honest as it’s used to be.”

you are kind of disappointed in yourself. there you are – going to therapy twice a week, working on a healthy, objective relationship with your crush. and now it’s him, not you, who is the brave one.

“but it’s not bad, right?” you voice, insecurity making your tone more timid than you’d like. even if jungkook doesn’t love you, he still cherishes you, right? your best friend looks at you like there is a whole ass shinigami on your shoulder.

“____, our friendship could never be bad. never.” then there is a silence. “but, like… do you feel secure with me? with this?”

his eyes shine with questions you are not ready to answer. but jungkook’s stare is there and it’s now and maybe it’s right on time.

“my mental health hasn’t been so good lately,” you start hesitantly. “i’m trying to reevaluate my relationships… see… where to make… improvements or… or where to set boundaries.”

honesty without being explicit. yoongi would roll his eyes.

the man in front of you nods, no judgement in his face. then he speaks:

“i’ve been in therapy since bangtan retired,” jungkook offers, which makes you suck in a harsh breath – for years he’s been seeing someone without you – his best friend – knowing?

“i had this whole identity – people idolizing me – milking me for… money, fame… opportunity. and then i just – just stopped being a singer. stopped my vlives. stopped my posts. many left – was i nothing without my band?” he asks softly tracing the lines on the blanket underneath you. there are tears in your eyes at his pain.

“talking about it, reshaping myself, rediscovering me – was … so tiering.” he chuckles without humor and you can’t help but agree: every therapy session is like a sixty-minute cardio routine.

“it was actually my therapist who recommended me doing these dance workshops in schools. i wouldn’t have met you if i didn’t listen to her,” jungkook reveals and you smile softly at the memory of a flustered jungkook surrounded by all your students, excited to meet a former idol.

“so, i hope you know that i’m very proud of you for seeing yoongi.” his voice sound strained, not entirely honest. “and i hope you realize that this“ his hand moves between the two of you “is a good thing.”

your heart beats faster while your skin shudders from a phantom cold. it’s confusing and exciting at the same time. jungkook looks as vulnerable as a porcelain doll in front of you. you feel close to tears watching your best friend.

“i hope so too, kook,” you admit and smile. he doesn’t mirror you because there is a part of him disappointed you are hoping instead of knowing. it’s a big part.

“you are a good thing to me, ____,” jungkook offers instead. “and that’s verified by my therapist.”

now a chuckle escapes him and you can’t help your own laughter joining in.

“but you have so many good things – i’m still searching for mine.” there is a wistful undertone in your voice and you are not ashamed of it.

“apart from you and the boys and my company… there is little that brings me joy,” jungkook confesses, making you freeze with his exclusion.

“what about your fiancée?” you ask and can’t look into his deep eyes.

“you know how it is with her,” he answers in a monotone voice. you want to scream at him, that you in fact do not know how it is, that you have only seen her a handful of times. heck, you’ve even met seokjin’s housekeeper more often than jungkook’s fiancée. your best friend has done the most to separate you two. you can count every mention of her on your fingers and you’d still have some left. it’s unfair he looks at you like you’re it when he’s got a woman at home wearing his engagement ring with pride.

there is so much frustration mounting in your stomach, it makes you mad.

“maybe i don’t know enough,” you say, the heat missing in your words. you sound more resigned and seeing how distant jungkook looks at you, there is little hope he’ll explain more… or anything.

“sir” jungkook’s bodyguard scares you, not having heard the mountain of muscles coming up to the two of you. “excuse the interruption” he is not interrupting anything. “a few girls have spotted you. your location is compromised.”

jungkook looks relieved and nods at his security. there is a silly part of you who’s glad as well, but another one would have loved to press your best friend for… anything.

“let’s pack up, ____” jungkook is on his feet in seconds and even though he mentioned the both of you, there is an unspoken order as his bodyguard starts to collect the food while the ceo takes your empty coffee cups. you shouldn’t lift a finger – still, it’s you who gets up and folds the now unoccupied blanket. the silence is not uncomfortable, but there is an underlying tension making you vibrate not only from the caffeine.

you’re out of the park in under ten minutes. during the ride back you steal one of the untouched muffins. jungkook acts like he doesn’t notice. the next morning a few pictures of your outing make it onto page six of the local newspaper. taehyung is astonished because he wasn’t invited. seokjin makes an unflattering meme out of one snap where you are drinking coffee. and jimin is silent, as are you and jungkook.

most of the times when you are waiting for yoongi to open his door and invite you into the now familiar office, you feel anxious. it’s normal, you know that. most people don’t like working through their problems. like jungkook said, it’s tiering. still, you are always 12 % excited to see your therapist because he is cool. talking to him means something to you. today however you feel impatient.

your picnic with jungkook is fresh in your mind. you’ve even taken the time to write some of your dialog down, so you’d be more objective during the retelling. yoongi will know how to work through this; you’ve got confidence in him.

“_____?” your therapist looks at you from the threshold of his door. he looks professional in his teal button down, wearing his glasses. but at the same time his face is paler than usual, fatigue clouding his eyes. you try to grin at him while closing the distance.

“hey, yoongi! how have you been?” you ask, making your voice extra soft not to irritate him. there is a forced smile on his lips – the one he always has when you start to rant about your oats. it makes you halt in front of him.

“everything okay?”

yoongi just nods before stepping back into his office and motioning you to follow him. still unsure about his mood, you just want to feel the familiar leather of his couch underneath you. he’d explain soon, you think. yeah, and then you could talk about jungkook. again.

but the couch is not empty. hell, your seat – the one you’ve had for months – is occupied. a man is grinning at you so brightly you want to close your eyes. and move him from your seat. in that order.

“huh?” you go, _____. very eloquent.

“hoseok, this is ______. ______, this is hoseok,” yoongi introduces you formally and you can’t help it but to bow curtly at the male in your seat. the man – hoseok – gets up from his – your – spot and moves closer to yoongi and you.

“______, i’m so, so happy to finally meet you!” this person is too happy. it’s like he tries to be the extrovert energy in the room that’s missing between you and yoongi. hoseok looks like the sun and you don’t like it. what is he doing here? and what does he mean by finally? confused, you stare at yoongi. why does he look so ashamed while tilting his glasses further up his nose?

“what is he doing here?” you ask a bit too blunt, but you know yoongi doesn’t care.

“he’s a colleague of mine. one of the best”, your shrink says slowly. so what, they had a meeting? lunch date? and he’s leaving now? just an overlap of meetings?

hoseok seems to take pity on his old friend when he addresses you next.

“i’ll be taking over your case from now, ______.”

_____

sorry that i’ve been away for so long. life has been bad. too much stress to handle. then i read a lot of fanfic to destress and it made me just more insecure about my own writing. still, i tried my best with this chapter and i hope you enjoyed it! please let me know what you think! i’d love to hear from you! fair warning: next chapter is gonna be the downhill to the angst-y part of this fic. just to clarify: i don’t like what yoongi and jungkook are doing here. just to be clear. but i do think they are both trying. somewhat. love, dana p.s. someone recommended this fic @ ficswithlove and it was very touching and i loved that a lot... thanks again to this kind soul!

taglist: @livewittykid @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad @jinsearthh @kseokwu @betysotelo18 @daydreambrliever

#btswriterscollective #bangtanuniversity #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ceo!jungkook #idol!jungkook #bts x you #bts x reader #bts angst

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peachysnzs · 3 years

Text

genshin snz headcanons

i caved here are literally All my genshin snz headcanons cause im thinkin so hard rn

albedo

def sneezes in fits but tries to stifle whenever possible

uses his elbow most of the time, but sometimes when hes especially deep in a fit he ends up just sneezing desperately in the air

quiet and breathy

tries to make his sneezes as discrete as possible but the further in fits he gets, the more desperate his sneezes sound

every time he has a buildup to a sneeze, he kinda just shudders leadin up to it yknow

he always tries to be cautious and not get anyone sick when he is sick bless him

ok this fucker inhabits an ice mountain theres no way he doesnt get at least a *couple* colds

mona

sneezes in likes twos, threes

this is so unoriginal bcs hydro vision but like her sneezes are def at least a bit wet-sounding

uses tissues when avaliable, but if not she just kinda turns to the side

loud and high-pitched

she sneezes relatively suddenly and it takes her by surprise sometimes

tbh mona feels like somebody who’d have allergies and being all sniffly and miserable looking and still try to deny that shes allergic to anything and that youre stupid for thinking so. very tsundere.

speaking of sniffly her nose probably just constantly runs like a tap when shes sick

she wouldnt even try to keep her germs to herself and would be disgusted at sick ppl even if she was the one to get you sick

hu tao

literally almost never sneezes* but when she does its singles

uses her elbow and covers her mouth, ty hu tao for being a good snz role model

kinda low and naturally soft

long ass fucking buildups! her nose just kinda itches for a whole two minutes and her breath wavers before she sneezes quickly

so for the asterisk * i kinda lied, she sneezes up a storm only when sick, she has kinda a subpar immune systme so whenever shes sick she just is stuck with sneezng consistently through the whole day til shes dizzy

jean

also sneezes in singles, occasional doubles

alternates between using hankerchiefs if avaliable or just her elbow

i feel like jean is the type of person to like excuse herself right before succumbing to a fit

small sneezes, decently graceful

i feel like shed had a dust allergy honestly

jean literally will not take sick days even when she has awful colds, and while she tries not to get ppl sick she does a kinda awful job at it

amber

two to four usually

elbow once again, but sometimes when shes gliding she cant really use her arms so she just sneezes in the air

squeaky def, high pitched

she def has hayfever and one day opens her glider and its just covered in pollen

no build ups to her sneeze, just a sharp inhale and then the snz

eula

we already saw her snz so

either single sneezes or long ass fits, no inbetween

sneezes into her gloves, but when her sneezes start to get messy she switches to a hankerchief

breathy and feminine

cyro characters get colds cause i say so

no fr tho eula just miserable w a cold and just constantly having to duck foward and sneeze into her gloves

half of her cold is her denying shes sick even when she looks absolutely horrible and the other half is complaining about how miserable she feels and demanding people to do things for her

childe

doubles usually

he sneezes into the air or in his hands this fucker would never sneeze in his elbow

messy and desperate

long! ass! fucking! buildups! he tries to hide the hitching with his builds ups but hes not at all good at it

his sneezes get so much messier the sicker he is, until hes practically just dripping

dont be decieved by the way he hides being sick, he desperately craves being coddled whenever hes sick because of his home life

suprisingly good at caretaking

diluc

triples and quadruples i feel like

elbow primarily, but sometimes uses tissues

loud and rough

he tries so hard to hide his allergies but it never works because his sneezes are always so loud

fuck it give him all the allergies

his voice gets stuffy so quickly when even in like a five foot vicinity of flowers, and his nose itches so much to the point where it feels like hes just constantly building up to another sneeze

has probably sneezed on someones drink at least once while he had a cold

kaeya

almost only fits and he fucking hates it

he usually pinches his nose to stifle but if he cant manage he either quickly goes for the elbow or just ducks his head down and sneezes towards the floor

shaky and itchy-sounding if that makes sense

yknow that little gasp people do sometimes before sneezing i feel like hed do that

never takes sick days unless forced to by jean or diluc, and ends up shambling through his daily tasks shaky and feverish and sneezy

he tries to stifle but it really does not work

rosaria

singles, and if u catch her sneezing she’ll probably make you swear to silence

literally just in the elbow

honestly i feel like shed sneeze like a kitten, or just really high and femme

she sees being sick/allergic as a sign of weakness so fights sneezing very hard. like u can see the visible effort she makes pinching her nose and shit after her breath hitches even once

also one of those dumbasses that stifle way too much and doesnt take sickdays

ningguang

doubles unless shes allergic, then its fits

she has a fancy ass lace hankerchief she carries w her speficially for snzs to look ‘proper’

she forces her sneezes to be elegant, sneezing naturally is loud tho

small buildups but v audible breaths building up to a sneeze

she has a good immune system but when she does get sick she gets it bad and tries to cover up her flushed face and red nose with makeup

without people around her she just lets herself be miserable while sneezes, lettting out small little “..guh...” after a particularly bad fit

beidou

doubles or triples

beidou would also like never use her elbow, shed sneeze in her fist even if the sneeze is messy as hell

loud and proud of it

look all im saying is beidou is a walking health hazard whenever sick, she doesnt try at all to keep colds to herself and can and wil sneeze into her hand only to shake yours seconds later

no buildups, just sudden sneezes that scare the shit out of people tho

very very fucking messy

half the time does not care if shes sick, she doesnt really feel like she needs to take sick days because she doesnt feel that bad and stuff like that

lisa

singles and occasional doubles

she keeps tissues on her and uses them relatively often

delicate and proper

the idea of lisa having a dust allergy is just everything to me, like she blows off dust from a book and ends up stuck for a few minutes with her nostrils flaring until she finally sneezes desperately into a tissue

rarely gets sick, but when she does milks the hell out of it to be as lazy as possible. like “oh im feeling so awful rn, maybe a kiss will make me feel better?~”

venti

fits fits fits

hands or elbows, really depends on how hard the sneeze hits him

decently loud and a bit high pitched

look venti is an anemo god all im saying is when he sneezes the wind picks up, and when he has fits its enough to push you over

to remedy this he just avoids everyone when sick and avoids cats with a a passion

buildups are very breathy and desperate

his nose runs so much near cats and he makes a godddamn mess of himself the longer hes around them

cats absolutely love him regardless

xiao

he gets fits only bcs i say so

literally either just the air or his hands because nobody ever taught him that he should like cover his mouth properly when sneezing

quiet but messy

the idea of xiao w just torturuous buildups does something for me. he’ll be stuck there w his breath hitching and hazy eyes for like a whole minute before he finally just ducks into his hand and makes a mess of himself

he does not understand being sick and absolutely hates it when he does get sick, 100% tries to power through it and ends up a fucking mess by the end of the day

his sneezes get stuck so often

his nose gets so fucking flushed and twitchy after a while of sneezing

ganyu

doubles or triples

sneezes in her elbow most of the time

soft and low

when she gets sick she gets so sleepy, her sneezes just kinda draw all the energy outta her and she usually ends up taking a nap

shes allergic to dogs too bcs why not

she doesnt want to bother people when sick or get them sick too so she usually takes copious sickdays until shes absolutely certain that she cant get anyone sick

zhongli

triples literally always for some reason

either into his fist or into a hankerchief

low and masculine, a bit loud

doing the same god shtick with him, the floor tends to shake whenever he gets particularly sneezy and stuff on cupboards can and will fall over when in the vicinity

no buildups really, hell just be in the middle of talking and then he blinks a bit and then sneezes roughly

he doesnt really take sick days but he doesnt really deny hes sick either, just kinda tries to get through the day despite feeling awful

#g/enshin i/mpact #sneeze kink #snz #sneeze headcanons #damn this took a while #i played favorites w x/iao and m/ona honestly #its my personal goal now to write every g/enshin character snzing at least once in a fic

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liptonsbabe · 3 years

Text

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: The reader has left the burrow trying to hide from Molly’s harsh comments. Bill’s mom doesn’t want his son near you cause she thinks you’ll hurt him judging you for your family reputation. Arthur thinks differenly so he’ll try to make amends between you two

Word count: 3.4 k. Too long I’M SORRY

Warnings: none

English not my mother language so pleeeeese tell me if something’s wrong

A/N: Hey! Another chapter for you’all. Thanks for keep reading this. The next part will be updated soon and yeah, hope you like it! If you want to be tagged just tell me and i’ll do so :D

Chapter 3: Expectations

It was bitterly cold outside the burrow, and you wondered if winter had come early. Your icy hands clenched your sides, refusing to go back inside even if your knuckles burned and your bare feet began to crack from the hardness of the grass on your soles.

You walked on the grass feeling the dew wetting your fingertips. On the other side of the garden the gnomes were burying one of Molly's ornaments with what, you guessed, the woman would be very angry when she found out, but no more than she already was. Molly's words were harsh. Even if her intention was not to make you feel bad, she had managed to put a huge weight on your stomach after the fight.

You didn't blame her, it was almost certain that Molly would react that way, however, you hoped that within her there was a bit of empathy for the situation you were experiencing with your family. It wasn’t easy for anyone to go through a war that could have been avoided in one way or another, however, for the Grants it was an even more difficult challenge knowing that the trigger for such a war was grandpa Tim Grant's half brother.

You walked around the house, crossing the barnyard, watching the chickens peck at a rubber boot on a very rusty cauldron. The cornfield grasses moved with the wind at the same rate. From right to left, right to left, right to left and then they changed the rhythm from left to right, left to right, left to right ...

The barn was just behind the thick grass rising into an old stone sty, which had several crooked stories attached to it. Four or five chimneys dotted the roof of the cellar, and most likely the entire building was held up by magic due to its crazy bolt-on construction. You took a look back at the main entrance of the house where you could hear the voices of Bill's brothers next to Molly's, deciding to get away from the Weasleys before starting a new fight.

You crossed the cornfield finding a pond full of frogs that you dodged with a little scream and a ballerina jump. Then you came across an old broom shed that was half stowed and a pervasive smell. You headed there, thinking of helping out with the cleaning and wasting some time in the process until William came home from the ministry in the early afternoon.

The brooms were on top of each other in a corner of the shed where the garden gnomes used them to play with each other. One of the gnomes had gotten a match with which he had managed to light a couple of strands of the broom of one of the twins -You knew it because each of the brooms had the initials of Molly's children painted on the base. That one had a huge G in the center - which soon expanded into the rest of the broom's dark fibers. You immediately turned it off earning yourself a tiny kick from the gnome.

The smoke from the fire mixed with dust, and the foul smell of expired wax made your eyes water . You wondered vaguely when was the last time that place had been cleaned up, however, the density of the raised dust and the rottenness of the broom wax on the floor told you about the nonexistence maintenance of the shed. The orchard was contained within a paddock, so you assumed there would be no problem cleaning it up later.

You collected each thing by hand placing them where you thought they should go. You finished cleaning the shed earlier than expected, securing the door when exiting to prevent the gnomes from entering and destroying everything again.

You continued your way in a straight line until you reached the barn where a thick layer of dust hid the doorknob. You opened the warehouse with your wand finding the worst scenario ever imagined. The walls were hidden in ghastly cobwebs, the shelves were clothed in huge mountains of dust, and Muggle stuff were strewn everywhere. Mr. Weasley's old Ford Anglia was on the left side of the barn, storing certain flying objects that you couldn't recognize from the cloud of dust that rose and entered to your eyes.

Well, that seemed like an even bigger challenge than the shed on the other side of the garden. You started by washing the car using your wand to launch several aguamentis causing a waterfall of mud falling from the roof to the fender. Then the car doors flapped open like a pair of wings, letting out the flying objects. You raised your wand by closing the barn door blockig them the exit and initiating a chase that lasted a couple of hours to catch each object, throw it inside the Ford Anglia and finish polishing the hood before the flying, spoiled car got upset.

You forgot the last time you helped your household servants clean a simple fireplace ornament. Years before, when you were little and your brothers liked to spend time together, you helped the butler to clean some objects in the house because it was more fun when you formed competitions between you, Anthon and Margaret to know which of you cleaned the house ¿faster . You had fun and old Alfred got less tired. But that was a long time ago and in the present you didn’t remember what was the proper order of cleaning.

You were lugging box after box for several hours getting a terrible allergy in the process. The last box was made of recyclable paper where you put Mr. Weasley's old newspapers and Molly's worn recipes. You carried them to the fourth shelf from the right, previously cleaned, raising it with both hands. A speck of dust flew across the room, stopping on your nose causing you to sneeze so hard you fell backwards with the box on your face. The papers flew around the corners causing a disaster worse than the initial one.

“Shit”

You stayed lying on the floor taking the box off your face staring at the ceiling. Undoubtedly that would be a difficult life without anyone to help you doing the things more than yourself, however you were willing to try ‘cause you didn’t want to return home where things were simple but with a high cost. You weren't sure you wanted to trade your freedom for a few extra comforts. You let out a sigh ready to stand up when a singular sheet of a recent newspaper flew towards you, stopping on your chest. You caught a glimpse of a fairly familiar photograph in the ink, so you took the paper and read:

"Dark Mark sparks panic." Muggle family murdered. Death Eaters numbers grow” Your hands trembled over the paper, caressing each of the words, reading them over and over again. The weight on your stomach grew and grew, as if it were suddenly going to explode. A huge picture of uncle Tom stood in the middle, with that toothless grin and throbbing nostrils “Merlin’s beard”

Your fingers tingled, and you couldn't help but run your touch over your uncle's face trying to think how he got to that point. Grandpa Tim never talked so much about his half brother and you never had the courage to ask him even if the curiosity was eating your insides. There were few times where Tom Riddle's presence was in the family conversations and if that happened, then your father changed the topic from one second to another. It was annoying living in the shadows, but it was even more to be tied to a cause that no one sympathized with, not even his own brother. But Tim Grant was reserved, perhaps too reserved. Maybe that was the reason why he allowed the actions of his little brother to escalate to those levels and allowed too that his only son had choose the wrong side. However, you didn’t understand - or support - Voldemort's ambitions, neither did your grandpa and that cost you to be rejected by the rest of your family.

Your eyes watered and you didn't know if it was because of guilt or if the damn dirt had entered your eyelids. You looked at the ceiling in the haze. You searched your mind and realized that the situation affected you too much. You weren't welcome with the Weasleys, nor with the Grants. You felt desolate, as if the barn walls were closing in on you.

Molly's reaction was valid, you repeated yourself as many times as you could, because anyone who had lost a large part of it’s family to a member of another's would have done the same thing or something so much worse. You shook your head, once again feeling the rejection you were used to.

The barn door opened suddenly, letting in a gust of wind hitting your body directly on the ground. Your skin prickled from the cold causing the newcomer to laugh.

You looked up to find yourself face to face with the distorted figure of Arthur Weasley who was holding a couple of drinks along with a weird smile that made you laugh. The man sat on the floor next to you leaving the glass next to your face.

"I'm sorry I scared you. it’s freezing cold out there and in my defense, nobody comes to this place”

“It’s okay, I wasn't expecting visitors”

"Fine, then" Arthur took a sip of his drink licking his chapped lips, but still showing you that smile so much like Bill's. You folded the newspaper on your lap, nervous. "So ... what are you doing lying in my barn?"

"I ... I was trying to clean this place up”

"Is that so? ‘cuz It seemed like you were about to take a nap."

“Yeah, i had a little mishap here”

"I see, do you want to get up?"

"Yes, thank you." Arthur held out his hand, slowly pulling you up to leave you sitting in front of him. He offered you the drink and you clinked glasses before drinking. It was hot chocolate, you guessed, made by Molly. Your stomach churned.

Mr. Weasley glanced around the barn, surprised to see more than half perfectly arranged

“This place hasn't been so clean since Bill was born”

“Sorry?

"No, no, it's okay," he mentioned, waving to play it off, "Molly had been asking me for a long time to do it, so I think you just made my job easier."

"It's nothing, Mr. Weasley

"Did you see something you liked?"

"Uh, yeah," you answered wiping your lips. "Ignoring the fact that your car almost killed me, I noticed that you have a lot of muggle stuff."

“Ah, yes. They are fascinating, don't you think?”

"Certainly, but I also realized that most of them are useless, why do you still have them here?"

"I like to collect them," he replied, taking another sip of his drink. You mimicked his action “to be honest, I don't even have a clue how these things works, but I suppose I'll find out in time. Muggle devices are not as advanced as ours, much less functional, however, I find them entertaining and special somehow, did you know that they use a subway to transport themselves underground? And they must leave coins in a machine so that they give them a little ticket. A ticket! The first time I used one I was deadly excited!

You smiled, imagining how it would to see Mr. Weasley that happy

"I could help you understand how they work." You winced when Arthur looked at you with wide eyes. "My ... my grandfather lived with Muggles for a while and knows a lot about this artifacts. Several times he spoke of his usefulness to my brothers and me”

“Fantastic!” He replied cheerfully. You smiled “It's wonderful (Y/N), thank you”

“No problem”

Then a silence settled between you, being cut off only by the babble of the gnomes outside the barn kicking the timbers trying to get inside. Arthur cleared his throat as he ran his little blue eyes over each of the walls of his newly renovated barn. He smiled again placing one of his hands on your shoulder

"I found out what happened with Molly in the morning," he mentioned. You nodded “My children told me what you said to each other and ...”

"I'm sorry I spoke badly to your wife, Mr. Weasley" you interrupted, sipping your glass all at once, leaving it on the floor. "I know after this I'll have to talk to William and find another place to stay."

“She is not like that. She rarely has such behavior with the people and I can only think that my Molly has a lot of mixed feelings. The war has us all nervous and the fact that the memories of the past have arisen again ... they make her have reactions that are not very usual in Molly.”

"I'm not blaming her. I think she's right”

“Why?”

"What I did to my family ... running away, betray them..." You started playing with your fingers on your lap, embarrassed. "It's not something a trustworthy person would do."

“What are you talking about?”

“For the Grants, it’s very important to support the family in their endeavors without stopping to think if that could be harmful to the others. With uncle Tom becoming the most dangerous dark wizard of all times ... people would think that his relatives would follow his steps and they did “Mr. Weasley listened attentively, ignoring the screams of his wife announcing that the food was ready “At least most of them. Now all of us are tied to the He-who-must-not-be-named, whether we want it or not. It ruined our lives and I couldn't stay in that place forever

"Why aren't you on his side?"

"Because I can't see my brothers make a wrong decision" You crumpled the newspaper with your hands looking at how the pic of Lord Voldemort turned into a streaked stain "I have my own convictions, even if you don’t believe so”

"I don't believe anything of you, (Y/N)" Arthur's voice turned stoic as he stared at you harshly. "Neither the good nor the bad. I am a believer that you should judge someone by what demonstrates, not by what it’s said about them. Right now you aren’t showing me anything but that there is something in your family that you don’t like and that the dirt in my barn is intolerable to you”

You smiled

"We're all here waiting to see what are you capable of. Good or bad, you get to decide who (Y/N) Grant is from now on. Starting over. Forget that the Grants' actions make you worthy of the consequences”

Warmth attacked your chest. It was comforting to feel for the first time the acceptance of someone who wasn't doing it out of mere compassion or that it was Bill. That Arthur gave you the benefit of the doubt encouraged you to continue as before: trying, trying, trying.

"I think his wife doesn't think the same."

Arthur Weasley patted your shoulder.

"I'll talk to her, she'll understand. Meanwhile let's go home, it's time for lunch”

"Did Bill come back?"

"Yes, my son and I came back from the ministry a while ago.He wanted to find you, but I asked him to let me do it. You know, because sometimes it's good to have the daughters-in-law on your side”

Your cheeks heated up and then the rest of your face turned completely red. Arthur studied your reaction, smiling as he realized you were just a kid looking for approval. He patted your shoulder again, inviting you to leave the rest of the mess and accompany him to the burrow.

"These aren’t a good times to trust the Daily Prophet," Arthur mentioned, noticing the crumpled newspaper in your hands. You skipped the pond and skirted the cornfield until you reached the garden entrance where Bill's brothers and Bill himself had set up a long table near Molly's apple tree where they planned to spend the afternoon. One of the twins raised his wand putting the cuterly across the table, one set for each of the family members. You wondered if there would be a place for you at the table “Honestly, these are not good times to trust anything or anyone, so if you accept my advice, don't worry too much about reading the newspapers, they will leave you more questions than answers, Hey, you will break that!

Arthur scolded his twins when they fiddled with forks in a battle to find out which of them would wash the dishes after eating. Arthur ran towards them while Bill approached you greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. He frowned, watching you closely and then removed his coat, draping it over your shoulders.

"What the hell were you doing outside without a sweater?" It's freezing!”

"You worry way too much," you told him, pressing the faux fur against your shivering body. The truth was that, after the exchange of words with Bill's mother, you didn’t have the time to get a sweater before leaving and of course your wounded pride wouldn’t let you get dressed again before going to hide in the barn. Bill clicked his tongue rubbing your arms. "I'm fine, I just lost track of the time cleaning your father's barn and I didn't feel the cold until now”

"You're bad at lying, did you know that?"

"You should stop asking so many questions." You smiled at the grimace on the older Weasley's face. "Nothing happened."

"That's not what the twins told me," he suddenly mentioned. You felt the tension in Bill's body when Molly passed by him giving you a dangerous look, however you decided to ignore it for the good of both of you “ What my mom said ...”

"It’s okay, it doesn't matter I discussed it with your father and we worked it out”

“Are you sure?” You nodded “I hope so. Not because she’s my mother I will let her offend you in any way”

Your smile widened. You couldn't possibly love that man more than you already did. You approached his body, throwing your arms around Bill's neck, having to stand on your tiptoes to reach only to kiss his chin. He lowered his head, managing to bring his lips together.

“Help your brothers set the table, I'll go take a bath”

"Don't you prefer i help you instead?" You laughed

"I can do it by myself, thanks”

"Hmm ... you sure?”

"William ...”

"Okay, okay, okay," he urged you leaving a couple of kisses on the corner of your lips. "Don't be gone too long. i’ll miss you, love."

“I will not. Wait for me just here, yeah?”

You went upstairs to the room you shared with Bill and jumped into the shower enjoying the warmth of the water above your head. You leaned against the tiles thinking that your first day in the burrow had turned out very bad, but better than you had thought. Even if Molly didn't believe your words, you would do your best to fullfil the expectations of the others members of the Order. You would be loyal to them, to the Aurors, and you would fight whoever you had to to prove that your actions were worth more than the rumors surrounding the Grants did.

You were going to prove how wrong they were with you and, incidentally, you would forge a reputation of your own, one of which you would proud of

Tag:

@purple-vodka-99

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x reader #domhnall gleeson #domhnall gleeson imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter cast #harry potter x reader #domhnall gleeson x reader

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jtsfavslut · 3 years

Text

Falling [G.D]

Description: Just when Y/N thought she was over Grayson, he pops back into her life, making her wonder if you could fall for the same person twice. Inspired by ‘Falling’ - Harry Styles.

Warnings: None, Just sad stuff lmao!!!

Word Count: 4K+

Also a special thanks to cole [ @blazedgraysons] for keeping up with my annoying ass questions while I wrote this, and for helping me and giving me advice I love you <333

Her small feet carried her body down the familiar street, cars zooming past her as her body softly bumped into the others around her. The loud sounds from the environment being blocked away by the soft, yet loud music that was coming out of an old pair of Airpods she had gotten for Christmas back in High School.

This was Y/N's daily routine. Get up early in the morning, do her business in the bathroom, get dressed, and walk over to her favorite cafe. The Beachwood cafe had become Y/N's second home ever since she moved to L.A, spending most of her time there, before and after class.

A smile lit up her face as the familiar blue door came into her view, a content sigh falling past her lips as she got closer to the door.

The strong smell of coffee hit her nostrils as she walked inside, music being paused as she walked fully inside, giving her attention to the cashier that greeted her every morning, "Hi Y/N, your stuff is on your table," she smiled up at Y/N before pointing towards her usual table.

It was the one by the window in the corner of the shop, the bright yellow and blue floor illuminated her small journey to the table, where her coffee and breakfast sandwich happily waited for her to approach. She sat down, hand reaching into her Yellow Kanken backpack, another Christmas gift from high school that she dearly took care of, she pulled out a brown journal and a pen.

A journal filled with memories and random thoughts that popped in her head. Y/N thought writing things down was good for the mind and body. She believed that writing things down would help you keep your thoughts safely, and lock memories into place without overworking your mind. A pen that has been through many journeys on the same yet different page.

All pages were the same until the pen went over it, recording things until the end of time. They were all the same until she wrote down her thoughts for the day.

Her small hand gripped onto the pen as she wrote down her thoughts from the previous night, coffee cup in the other hand as she slowly sipped the liquid.

Last night I thought of him again, just until I drifted off. I don't know why. It hasn't happened in months. Nothing bad, just a memoir of all of our memories together. Like the time we broke into the school's pool one night. Where he pushed me in with all my clothes on, then he jumped in and we made out by the stairs. Funny how we never got caught since cameras were around us. Or when we had our senior trips to the mountains in Colorado, and how he kept sneaking into the girls' room just to be with me. We were lucky we didn't get caught again. I tried to not keep thinking about him. I know it's time to finally drop it and move on, but how? How do I erase all those memories from my brain? How am I supposed to just drop it and move along? Just how? I don't need or want to know why just how.

She softly slammed the notebook closed, right before she could feel a slight burning in her eyes and a rock starting to form in her throat. The subject of her and a past lover that she was still holding onto, still being a deep wound to her.

She thought about and remembered Grayson every day. After all, he was her everything during her entire High School life, and he still was…...sort of. Grayson and Y/N started dating in the 9th grade, right about in the middle of the year. He asked her out behind the school's bleachers during lunchtime, a mixture of flowers from his mom's garden that she shyly accepted from him after she said yes. That was followed by their date to the movie theater, where he held her close to him every time she faked being a little scared, not that he could tell, and three dates after he officially asked her out where she said yes again, and that was followed by an accidental kiss, he was leaning towards her cheek when she accidentally moved her head to the side, causing his lips to land on hers. Neither of them complained, just smiled at each other and carried on.

They went on for 6 years, all of high school and two college years, where he decided to break it off because of distance. He went off on how being across the country from one another was hard, and the fact that the time difference from New York to California was 3 and 4. She didn't complain. Didn't give a reason as to why not, even if she had trillions of them. She didn't try to change his mind. She simply said okay, and wished him the best. She still loved him though.

The words that her grandpa had spoken replayed in her brain every time she questioned why she still thought about him; "You never stop loving anyone sugar, you just kinda love someone stronger. If you stop loving them, then you never loved them to begin with" She thought about that, and that made her feel better. Maybe there was someone out there who she would love more than she loved Grayson.

With a quiet sigh, she put her journal away, switching it with a book she picked up at the library a few days prior, yet read a million times.

To Kill A Mockingbird is a book she read many times in school, mostly everyone has. It's the one book from school she actually enjoyed, so she picked it up from the book shop down the street from her apartment before work one day, and didn't get to read it until now.

She opened the book with a small smile, the sensation of the book against her finger bringing nothing but happiness to her, and took her mind off whatever was bothering her. She lost herself in the book, almost done with half of the book before her alarm rang, signaling it was time for work. She left a 20 on the table after putting all her stuff away in her backpack and walking out of the shop and towards her job which was a paid internship at a local hospital downtown, all she did was watch and help out with minor cases like cuts, sprains, X Ray's and the occasional stuff like questioning. She entered the hospital, sanitizing herself and changing into her uniform, walking over to her area, that being the Pediatrics Emergency room where her boss, mentor, whatever you might want to call him, Dr. Reyez, and the rest of the team were waiting for her.

"Morning everyone," she chirped at the tired yet awake health care workers, who all had smiles on their faces. "Morning Y/N, you're going to be practicing by yourself today, can you handle it?" Dr. Reyez asked her, which she just nodded her head with a smile. There wasn't a single ounce of doubt in her brain.

"I'm pretty sure yes! And I can just reach out to you guys if anything, right?"

"Yeah, just page us if anything. Your first patient should be here soon, just go wait by the desk," Reyez instructed her and that's exactly what she did. She sat on the desk for over 20 minutes until someone came in with a toddler covered in rashes.

"Hi baby, I just need to ask you and mommy a few questions, yeah?" She sweetly and patiently asked the 5 year old as his mom was filling out some papers, to which he just nodded his head.

"Okay, Xavion, did you eat something new today? Maybe something you've never eaten?" She asked and both the mom and son nodded their heads.

"Do you think he was allergic to something?" The mom asked, causing Y/N to shrug.

"Well, it depends. We need to get an allergy test for him. It doesn't hurt or anything, we just scratch and pour a drop of the allergen over it and see how they react. Mom, do you happen to remember what he ate today for the first time?" She replied by recording some notes down on her clipboard before telling a nurse to get an Allergy Antibody Test ready.

"He ate everything that he usually does except for some broccoli I gave him," the mom replied and Y/N nodded her head before writing it down on her clipboard and walking them to the testing room.

Once the results came back around half an hour later, Xavion was, in fact, allergic to broccoli, and other things that Y/N had to explain to the mother. She got about 15 minutes of break time before Reyez called her another minor emergency.

"It's an 11 year old, possible breakage or sprain to the leg, you can handle this one right?" He asked and she nodded her head, "Good, they're in room 217, good luck," he added before sending her off to the room.

She quickly made her way over to it, grabbing her clipboard on the way, "Hi, I'm Dr.Y/LN, I'm going to be taking care of you guys today! May I have the child's name and date of birth please?" She nicely asked as she walked inside the room, quickly walking over to the desk area that was in the corner and placing her stuff down.

"Uhhh, Caleb Dolan, August 17, 2008," a deep voice that she could recognize from anywhere spoke as she turned around. Her heart dropped at the sight of Grayson in front of her. She tried to reassemble herself, after all, she couldn't make any mistakes right now, Reyez was trusting her and she couldn't afford to mess the opportunity up.

"Caleb, August 17, 2008," she mumbled as she wrote it down on her piece of paper, "Caleb, do you mind telling me what happened, babe?" She asked with a smile on her face. Her smile turned into a small frown as she looked up at the boy who happened to be in pain.

"Me and uncle Gray were practicing for the soccer game that's next and I fell on the mud and hit my leg really hard," he explained as she walked towards him nodding her head.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, One being okay while 10 being the worst, how would you rate the pain?" She asked, walking over to the walk to grab a pair of gloves, putting them on, and walking back towards him.

"Uhh a seven," he replied and she nodded her head.

"Okay Caleb, just know this might hurt a little okay? It's just protocol to check if it's dislocated, broken, or sprained okay?" She asked and he nodded his head, a few tears falling down his face from fear. Grayson quickly leaned down to wipe off his face whispering a quiet 'you'll be okay' as Caleb grabbed his hand.

"Can you try and move your ankle for me? Just try and move it," she explained and he muttered at quiet yes before moving his foot in a slow circle, she nodded her head before placing both hands over his ankle checking for any bumps, which there were none to find, "Luckily for you Caleb, it's just sprained! There are no bumps meaning it's not dislocated, and you can move it meaning it's not fractured! Just to make sure, we're going to need an X Ray' just to make sure there are no hidden surprises yeah? Dr. Lindsey will do those with you, and I'll be right here when you come back," she smiled up at the boy before Dr. Lindey moved him to a wheelchair and took him to the X Ray room, leaving Y/N and Grayson alone in painful silence.

"So this is what you do? This is where you work?" Grayson was the first to speak after a couple of quiet seconds,

She cleared her throat and nodded her head, placing her hands inside her white jacket, "Yeah. It's a paid internship so it's basically a job, what about you? What are you doing here?" She asked to make direct eye contact with him.

"Moved here after me and E graduated, looking for some roles and an agent," he spoke, his voice not as deep yet shakier than when he first spoke.

"Any luck with that?"

"Yeah. We've landed a few small roles here and there," he answered and she just nodded her head.

"That's good! I'm glad everything's working out for you," She gave him a genuine smile before continuing to fill out Caleb's paperwork.

"Listen, I know it's been 2 years but-," Grayson began to speak before Y/N cut him off. "-Grayson just don't. I'm at work right now, and it's enough seeing you after 2 years, but I don't really need this right now. I'm sorry," She apologized before leaving the room to get some papers before walking back in, thankfully Caleb was already in the room when she walked in.

"I'm going to wrap your ankle up with this and then you're good to go, buddy. Make sure you don't apply pressure on it for two weeks. And carefully when you're playing any sport, I don't want you back here," she said while wrapping his ankle up carefully. She gave Grayson the discharge papers, their hands touching each other for a split second before she pulled away waving them off before walking to where her team was.

"That guy was looking at you intensely," Reyez pointed out, earning a glare from her.

"Don't even start," she rolled her eyes before taking a sip from her water bottle that was on her desk.

"Wait is that the?" Jacob, one of the nurses, asked and she nodded her head.

"Yeah, that's him," she sighed, shaking her head.

"Holly shit Y/N, I knew you said he was hot, but girl? That man is hotter than-,"

"Mackenzie, don't you dare," Y/N joked towards her other co-worker, "God why do you do this to me? I was almost over him and then you put him on my path again? The universe hates me,"

"I'd go for it again if I were you," Mackenzie encouraged earning a glare from her.

"Alright, leave her alone before she starts to crumble, Mackenzie go fill out reports, Y/N go take a breather," Reyez ordered them around and they all nodded their heads, going on their way to do what they were told.

. . .

Soft snores began to quietly run past her lips as she drifted off to sleep, all before a feeling of suddenly falling down an empty whole woke her up. She shook her head letting out a quiet 'fuck' before turning to look towards the clocks on her nightstand, 3:30 AM being brightly displayed on it. Y/N let out a loud sigh, knowing she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon.

Her mind suddenly clouded with knotted thoughts and notions, too many of them just to focus on a single one. She pushed her body up, just enough for her to reach over and grab the small yellow backpack that she lazily threw on the floor, pulling her journal and pen out before throwing it back on the floor.

She clicked the pen and opened the journal, blank pages waiting to be filled up, her hand delicately moved along the paper as she scribbled letters and words on the empty pages, thoughts clearing out of her head, one by one.

I saw him today. He looked different. He's grown. After it all, it has been two years. His voice is deeper too. He wanted to talk, but I said no. Maybe if I did, I would fall for him again, or something. I'm doing just fine, so why did he have to move here. Anyway, Reyez finally allowed me to take care of patients by myself today. It was fun, I liked it, I guess. Luckily I'm free tomorrow because I can't sleep at all now. Maybe it's the repeating thoughts of him running through my mind, or just simply the lack of melatonin in my body right now. I'll probably go to the park tomorrow, stop at the cafe first then make my way there, but anyway, I'm going to try and sleep now.

It was a quick entry, nothing special, just her major thoughts being written down, just enough for her to feel better. She got up from the bed walking over to the kitchen grabbing a water bottle before leaning against the counter and sipping it. She crossed her bare legs over each other, looking out of the big window in her living room. Her favorite part about the apartment? It was the window that looked down on bright LA city. Y/N could sit there for hours and not notice the time pass by, she knows this because it happened before. She left the kitchen and walked towards the window, propping her body down on the small couch she had in front of the window. She laid her head on her hand, watching the few cars that sped down the street, the small yet bright red lights disappearing into the distance as her eyes followed them until they could.

Her eyes softly closed as she laid down on the couch, drifting off into another universe. The next morning she woke up at around 8 AM, doing her daily routine, except she stopped at the Cafe, picked her things up, and made her way to the park. It was an old park, there was an old playground that seemed like it hadn't been used in years. She sat down on an old bench drinking her coffee as she watched the scenery.

She didn't take her notebook out, her mind not having any thoughts, or at least no thoughts relevant enough for her to write down. She just took her time to take her surroundings in. She admired how the wind moved the trees, yet they were so strong they didn't crack. The way the birds lifted off whatever surface they were, and drifted off into the sky. She admired the rare butterflies that randomly appeared just to disappear once again. She simply admired the earth, something that she didn't do quite often; Always being too deep in her thoughts to actually study the things around her.

"They're beautiful aren't they?" Grayson's voice spoke out of nowhere, making Y/N do a slight jump in her seat as her heart raced.

She brought her hand up to her chest, a sigh falling past her lips as she glared at Grayson who was chuckling, "You fucking scared me,"

"Sorry," he sighed, sitting down next to her.

They both let out sighs. Both knowing that there was no escaping the conversation that was about to happen, a conversation that was long due.

"You could, hmm, you could go first," she spoke after a few moments of silence, throat dried making her clear it in the middle of some of her words.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. You were working, and Ummm, it wasn't the right place or time to talk about things. I'm also sorry because I never gave you an explanation as to why we should've broken up. After all, you didn't ask anyway," He softly spoke. He thought every word through, studied each meaning before letting them run past his lips.

"I didn't ask because it's what you wanted. Your decision was clearly made. I mean, I don't think breaking up with someone is a spontaneous thought is it? Your decision was made, and if you felt like I was holding you back, then I had to let you go, if I loved you, then I think I did the right thing." Her words were careful too. And quiet, so quiet feeling that if she spoke too loud the things around her would break.

"I didn't want to break up. I felt like it was the right thing to do, you know? We were always so busy, and we made time for each other, but it was exhausting. And when you were out with friends, I felt like I was annoying you or something," he sighed and she shook her head, the thought of her ever getting annoyed at Grayson's presence being absurd.

"Oh God absolutely not," she chuckled, "I thought I was annoying you. Like I wondered if you talked about me, or not. I wanted to know if I annoyed you because I felt like I did,"

It was true. In her journal, multiple pages were filled out with her question herself on whether Grayson talked about her or not. Even after the breakup, she wondered if he'll ever need her. Most pages were about him, all of her thoughts revolved around him, always.

"I did. All the time, to the point where I said your name subconsciously," he smiled, remembering the conversations he had with his friends about her, and how great she was.

"I did too, well not say but write," she sighed, leaning her back on the bench.

"You wrote about me?"

"Grayson you know I did, that's a dumb question," She shook her head, taking a sip of the coffee that was somehow still warm.

"Do you still write about me?" He asked and she stayed quiet, not knowing whether she should answer truthfully or not.

"Honestly speaking, I do. I write about everything that comes to mind, so sometimes? Yeah," she sighed, knowing that it would be easier if they just told the truth.

Maybe this was the closure that they both needed, yet never got. Maybe this was going to help her fully move on from him, and have thoughts that don't include her.

Or maybe not. Maybe this would help them reconnect. Y/N left it all up to the universe. She was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and that you can't change your future since it's already written about. When she got home after a couple of hours she took a shower, lit on her favorite candles, and did the expected. She took out her notebook and wrote.

We spoke today. He told me the reason why we broke up. It wasn't an intentional meeting though, I was just admiring nature. I was looking at the butterflies I think. He randomly spoke. And I know it was long due and needed so I just told him to say it. It's better to just get it over with than to just keep pushing it back, I think. He told me why he wanted to break up, which right now, sounds like a valid reason. I just wonder why he didn't just say it back then. It would've saved me a lot of nights, don't you think? He now knows I write about him, and where I go to write about him. Maybe I shouldn't go there anymore. It sounds out of this world I know. But maybe, just maybe, I should just close that chapter in my life.

There are just too many memories of him at Beachwood. That's where he surprised me the first time he came to visit. And it's where I write about him the most. I could find another cafe near here, there's plenty.

I just wonder if we're ever going to see each other again. If I'll ever fall for him again, if that is even possible. Because I don't think you could fall for the same person twice, right?

That was the last page in her journal. All the pages filled with her delicate letters, her writing being eternal. Filled with on-going words until the end, where an unanswered question laid. The weight that was once on her shoulders began to fade, and for once in her life, the thought of her future no longer made her afraid.

This is the first time I’m proud of a something I wrote, so if this flops, I will deactivate! Just kidding, sort of. Anyways, yeah, I feel like my writing has improved, and as always, if you have any tips, and/or constructive critism, please, please, please drop them in my inbox, and don’t worry, I won’t say your hurting my feelings lmfao!!

Tag List: @guiltydols @evergreendolan @ydolanssss @rhyrhy462 @resilientdolan @simplyxdolxstyles @simplyxdolxstyles {If you wanna be added to my Tag List, just let me know :) lol}

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charm-03 · 3 years

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NATURE NOSE - I’M NOT A MONSTER

One more before bed…❤️

••••••••••

We stopped to pick up sushi for dinner on the way home. Evett seemed to be in either a constant state of prepping for, or actually sneezing. I enjoyed the shit out of it, but I felt bad for him. I’m not a monster.

After the tenth or so rapid fit we were parked in my garage. I took his hand in mine. "Are you okay? Can I go and get you anything? Do you have extra allergy meds with you?"

Evett shook his head quickly, his face in gorgeous pre-sneeze expression, his nostrils twitching like a bunny, and his eyes streaming tears. I couldn’t help myself, I grabbed him and pressed our lips together. I could feel his breathing protest, but he kissed me back. Hard. I think he was trying to fight the sneezes off.

I could feel his nose flaring against my cheek, and my stomach doing flip flops in unison. I pulled him closer kissing him harder, knowing full well what was happening in his perfect nose, and what would happen when I finally let him go.

"Hei…Heid…oh…" Evett moaned between kisses. "I…oh…I’m…mmm…Ohh…"

"Yes…Vett…oh…mmm…yess…" I answered. I was so turned on by then. If he hadn’t have been so desperate to let the sneezes out I would have dumped the sushi on the floor and had my way with him. But I knew how much I was torturing him, so I kissed him one more time and then let him pull back.

"Ahhhhh?" after a high pitched gasping breath he shot forward. I counted twenty-two stifled sneezes before he let go and let out fifteen more uncovered beautiful loud sneezes. He paused, panting.

"Oh Vetty…are you okay? Can I get anything now?"

"Ti…ssu…es…AH…ETCH…HETCHOO! ETCHA! ETCHOO! ESHOOOO! ETCHAAAA! CH…ETCHOO! Ch! CH! CH!"

And then ten completely silent sneezes before he fell back, his head resting against the seat, panting for breath. I silently wiped the tears from his face and eyes, and snot from his nose and upper lip.

"Whew…" he breathed. "How many?"

"56…" I said shyly.

"I’m upset I didn’t get to…to…ETCH! ETCHA! ESHOOOO! ETCHASSHHHHH! Oh, well there we go. 60," he giggled, which made me giggle. He wiped his nose again with the tissues I handed him.

“Are you sure you want to stay here tonight? You don’t need a break after today? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable all night with my dog,” I said honestly, playing with his fingers.

“No,” Evett shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. I’m good babe.”

••••••••••

❤️🥺

#sneezes #sneezing #snzfic #sneezefic #allergic #allergy #pollen #pollen allergy #sneezing fit #he can’t stop #i love him

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chimie-chat · 4 years

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Allergy Season: A Tim Drake adventure

It's not that Tim didn't find Ivy attractive. Let's be real. Who wouldn't? She's a bombshell in a leaf bodice. After years of following the Gotham Rogues on the news, and reading every study he could find on every single one of them, the one he absolutely didn't want to run into was Poison Ivy. I mean, let's be real. He's a fourteen years old pubesent boy. She wouldn't even need to use that weird plant-drugged lipstick of her to make him to whatever she wanted, he's hecking do it anyways. So after becoming Robin, a dream come true let's be real, he was beyond anxious for the day he would inevitably run into the eco-terrorist; give him Joker any day.[8:52 PM]Alas, that day finally came. He was perched outside her latest greenhouse - a warehouse she'd turned into a tropical paradise - waiting for the signal from Batman to lunge into action, secretly hoping it would never com----- oh dammit. There it was.

The Robin braced himself before shooting out a grappling gun, hooking it around a pipe along the roof, and swinging into action. Unfortunately, plans never seemed to work... Well.... They way we planned.... Huh.... Cause the second his boots scrapped the concrete slab, his knees bending to account for the pressure of the landing, he was hit in the face with a puff one pink, sparkly pollen - the kind you see in cartoons, not in real life - and boy of boy, y'all, Tim got a big ol' whiff of it.

Immediately he started coughing, falling to his knees at the spores settled in his sinuses, and clogged his throat.[8:52 PM]"Silly boy. You really think you could get a jump on me like that?" Ivy snickered, twirling curly locks of red hair between her fingers, her other arm crossed underner her chest, which only helped push her C-cups higher. Somewhere in the distance, Batman yelled for his sidekick, as Ivy approached the red, yellow, and green clad teen.

Now, her plan was probably to make Tim her mind controlled minion - we all know the drill - but the second she pressed a finger to the teens chin, tilting his head up to her to lay that cursed kiss on him.... The boy let out the biggest, snot-filled sneeze in the world.

"A-----CHOOOO!" Robin fell back down to the group, still coughing and groaning as sneeze after sneeze burned his nostrils.

While Ivy should have been studdened, and rightfully disgusted, she was moreso baffled by the absolute mess of a boy at her feet. "What the----"

"B--" Tim sneezed into his gauntlets. "B, I'm dying."

"Is this a trick?" Ivy narrowed her eyes. "That plan was perfectly harmless. The order may be strong, but there's nothing poisonous about it."

"Baaaaatmaa---CHOO!"

Poison Ivy tapped the toe of her high heels against the Robin's thigh. "Is this one broken or something?"

"B---- my---" He coughed, reaching out a hand dramatically towards his mentor, as if he were a soldier about to be left behind in the trenches. "My---- my epipen---"

"....Excuse you?"

There was a sigh as Batman left whatever vine he'd been fighting, and casually strolled up to his sidekick. The man reached into his utility belt, produsing an EpiPen with the prescription details scribbled off with a sharpie. He made quick eye contact with Ivy. "........He has really bad allergies."

#stupid drabble #tim has allergies ok #tim drake #robin #red robin #drake #batman #batfam #poison ivy #pamela isley #dc #dc comics #fanfic #fanficion #dc fanfic #young justice #teen titans #btas

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

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All About the Face

Eyes

What color are your eyes? Brown. Do you have big eyes or small eyes? I think they’re small. Do you or anyone you know have a lazy eye? I used to know someone with a lazy eye.

Do you need to wear glasses or contacts? Yep, I wear glasses.

Do you wear “regular-sized sunglass” or “big sunglasses”? I don’t wear sunglasses at all.

Do you pluck your own eyebrows or get them waxed/shaped by a professional? I tweeze them myself. I’ve only had them waxed once and that was when I was like 14. Do you wear eyeshadow often? If so, what colors? I haven’t worn eyeshadow in several years. Do you make wishes on eyelashes? Nah, but I did that when I was a kid. Have you ever pulled your eyelashes out before? Yes. I sometimes mess with my eyelashes and a couple will come out. How often do you have eye boogers/crusties when you wake up? There’s usually a little.

Have you ever had pink eye before? Nope. Name some sights that are appealing to you. Scenic views like of the ocean, mountains, etc. Oh, and Alexander Skarsgard, of course. Do you know anyone who is colorblind? Not that I know of. My chem teacher in high school was colorblind, though. Do you know anyone with two different-colored eyes? I don’t think so. Do you know anyone with a glass eye? Not that I know of. Do you know anyone who uses/wears colored contacts? Probably. Do you tend to look at people when you talk to them, or look away? I switch between both. I can’t hold eye contact the whole time or even for a long time at once before it gets awkward so I have to look away for a bit. When you cry, do tears come out? Yes. The only time they don’t is if I’m not able to cry or I’m all cried out. If I’m crying, though, then there’s definitely tears falling out

How many different parts of the eye can you name without using Google? A few offhand. Do you blink often? I guess? It’s one of those things you do absentmindedly. Would you be any good at a staring contest? No, I’m the worst. Like I said, I can’t do it for long before it gets awkward. Do you know anyone who is blind or legally blind? Yes. Can you do any weird or creepy eyebrow-wiggles? No. Can you make yourself go cross-eyed? No. Do you enjoy watching 3D movies, or do the glasses give you a headache? I find them annoying and it’s hard to wear the glasses over my own.

Are you able to see things from multiple points of view/perspectives? Yeah, I think I’m pretty good about that. Well, except for when it comes to myself and my issues... then I tend to just see one side and it’s negative. Do you get dizzy have blurred vision, or vertigo often? It’s been a few years since I’ve had my eyes checked and I feel the strain and some of the other symptoms that go along with needing a new prescription. Have you ever had to get something small removed from your eye or had any sort of eye surgery before? No. I do get styes now and then, though, which are just super annoying and painful. It’s a bump on my eyelid that lasts for a few days until its ready to drain and yeah, not fun. It goes away on its own, but I do some things to help the process. Do you wear eyeliner or mascara? I did when I wore makeup, which I haven’t for the past few years now.

Ears

Do you have differently-shaped ears? (ex: elfin ears) No. How often did you used to get ear infections as a child? That wasn’t something I dealt with very often. Have you ever failed a hearing test? No, I’ve always had really good hearing. Do you know anyone who is deaf? No, but I know people who are hard of hearing. Are your ears pierced? How many times/what parts? Yes, just my earlobes. Do you have good listening ears? I’m definitely more of a listener than a talker. Have you ever lost your sense of hearing before and had it come back? (ie: had your eardrum burst) No, thankfully.

Do your ears hang low? No. Can you wiggle your ears? Nope. How do you get the earwax out of your ears? I use Q-Tips. What are some sounds that would make you cover your ears? Fireworks, for sure. I usually wear headphones because I just find them way too loud. What are some sounds that are pleasant to your ear? The ocean waves crashing in and out, rain, certain ASMR triggers, piano pieces, the words, “I brought you coffee”... haha. Do you or anyone you know have an auditory processing issue? Not that I’m aware of. Are you guilty of frequent eavesdropping? Not frequent, but I’m guilty of it sometimes. Although, like I said I have really good hearing so I tend to hear things without even trying or even wanting to. Have you ever gotten anything stuck in your ear canal before? If so, then what? Ow, no.

Nose

Do you have a large, medium, or small nose? I think it’s small. Are your nostrils small or large? Small. Do you get seasonal allergies? I do. How often are you guilty of digging for emeralds? I just get a tissue and blow my nose if needed. What’s the highest number of sneezes that you’ve done in a row? I don’t know; a few. My dad often has sneezing fits that seem to go on forever. And he sneezes really loud, too. What are some smells that are unpleasant to you? Old food, garbage, shit, too much perfume or cologne, too much air freshener, Sharpies, seafood, skunks, alcohol, nail polish, nail polish remover, shoe cleaner, most cleaning products... What are some of the best smells, in your opinion? The ocean/beachy air, rain, patchouli, cedar wood, sandalwood, pine, coconut, lemon, vanilla, cinnamon, mint, coffee, garlic, my favorite foods, sweet smells, powder... Are there any unusual smells that you enjoy that most others do not? (ie: gasoline, Sharpies) I do like the smell of gasoline. What’s your favorite candle or air freshener scent? I like the autumnal scents from Bath & Body Works. Have you ever stuck anything up your nose before? If so, then what? No. Do you get frequent nosebleeds? Do you know what causes them? No, thankfully I’ve never had one. Do you have any nose piercings? If so, then where? Nope. Have you ever had a broken nose before? Nope. Have you ever lost your sense of smell before? How did it happen? Yeah, like when I have a horrible cold or allergies. Do you use any sort of nasal spray? Very rarely. When’s the last time that you had both nostrils close up on you at once? Almost a year ago when I got sick with a bad cold. Do you have a habit of being nosy and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong? No. Have you ever snorted any sort of drug before? If so, then what? No. Do you snort when you laugh? Nope.

How often do you get sinus infections? Very, very rarely. It’s been years. How long does it take you to get through an entire box of tissues when you’re relatively healthy? I don’t use a box of tissues unless I have a bad cold.

Mouth

Do you have plump lips, thin lips, or one of each? Thin, but my bottom lip is a little bigger. Do you wear more lipstick or lip gloss? If you wear it, what shade do you normally choose? I haven’t in years. Do you use lip liner? Nah. I never bothered with lip liner. Do you remember those LipSmacker Chapsticks from your childhood? Which was your favorite one? Yes, I loved those. The fun ones like the ones that were supposed to taste like soda or candy were my favorite. Even better were the ones shaped like a soda bottle or various things. This store in the mall, Claire’s, has a ton of those. Years ago I had one shaped like a little Hershey’s strawberry syrup bottle, it was super cute. What brand of chapstick do you use as an adult now, if any? I like EOS. Do you have a tendency to pick at your lips or chew on them? Ugh, yes I do both. A lot. Who’s the last person you kissed? Joseph, many years ago. Do you lick your lips often? Yes. Do you make “the fish face” often in photos? No, I never liked that look. Have you ever had gingivitis in your gums? No. Do your gums bleed when you brush your teeth? No. How often do you brush your teeth? At least once a day. How often do you floss? I don’t. :X What brand of mouthwash do you use, if any? I don’t use any. How many teeth are in your mouth currently? I don’t know. Do you have any cavities? Yes. Have you ever had a root canal? Yes, a few times. What color are your teeth? White, but not pearly white. I could use some whitening strips. What brand of toothpaste do you use? Sensodyne. Have you ever had any teeth extracted? Yes. How old were you when your last baby tooth came out? Hm. I don’t recall. Do you grind your teeth at night in your sleep? Sometimes. Have you ever broken your jaw before? No. Have you ever swallowed something you shouldn’t have? No. Has your throat ever started to close up from something before? Noo, thankfully. That sounds terrifying.

Have you ever choked? If so, on what? Yes, I’ve gotten food and a pill stuck in my throat. How many times have you had strep throat? I think less than a handful of times. It’s been a very long time since the last time I’ve had it. What is something that causes your throat to itch? When it’s dry.

Have you ever lost your voice before? If so, when was the last time? Yeah. It’s been several years since that has happened as well. Like, over 10 years. Have you ever lost your sense of taste before? How long did it take to come back? It happens when I’m really sick. What are some of your favorite foods that taste delicious to you? Wingstop’s boneless lemon pepper and garlic parm wings, ramen, breakfast burritos or sandwiches, scrambled eggs with garlic, spinach, green onions, and shredded cheese, and scrambled eggs and biscuits smothered in country gravy with hash browns. Can you fold your tongue into a taco shape? How about a clover? Nope. Can you tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue? Nope. What’s the last thing you licked? The spoon I used in my coffee. Can you roll your R’s? Nope. Who is the last person that you stuck your tongue out at? I don’t recall. That’s not something I tend to do. Have you ever choked on your own saliva before? Yes. It seems like I choke on just air even sometimes. How frequently do you experience dry mouth? Ugh, that’s something I really struggle with. Have your parents ever threatened to wash your mouth out with soap before? No. Who’s the last person that you mouthed off to, and why? I don’t mouth off to people. Do you speak any other languages? A little Spanish. Have you ever worn braces or retainers? Nope.

Chin & Cheeks/The Whole Face

Do you need to shave your upper lip or chin? No, not at the moment. Do you shave your entire face? If so, how often? No. Do you have a moustache? No. Do you have a beard? No. Have you ever fractured your cheek bone? Ow, no.

Who was the last person to kiss your cheek? My mom. Do your cheeks get extra red in any of the following instances: sickness/fever, drinking alcohol, cold/windy weather, embarrassment, or infatuation? When I’m sick, hot, nervous, and when I used to drink. Do you have any relatives who are guilty of pinching your cheeks and making comments about how big you’ve grown? No.

Are you mature enough to turn the other cheek? Usually. And to just avoid confrontation and drama. I’ll stew about stuff on my own and be upset about things for awhile, but I’m not one to hold a grudge. When’s the last time that you said something cheeky, and who did you say it to? Something jokingly to my brother, probably. Has anyone ever slapped you across the face before? If so, what was the reason? No. Do you get a lot of blackheads or acne? If so, are there any special products that you use in order to combat this? No, I just get like a couple now and then. I struggled with acne back when I was a teenager and young adult, though. Do you wear blush or foundation? I rarely bothered with blush back when I wore makeup and I dabbled with foundation for a short bit. My main staples when it came to makeup was honestly just eyeliner and mascara, and maybe a tinted balm. What shape face do you have? Oval or heart shaped. Do you have any scars on your face? Yes, a few little ones. Would you ever consider getting a face lift or Botox? Nah.

[ohsh1t2wksl8]

#personal #text #survey #surveys #my face

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thetwistedrope · 4 years

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symptom timeline

i guess i’m putting this here in case its useful to others. i have been working to organize my thoughts so i could write it in my personal records, but i’ve also found it very helpful to see how others have experienced covid (or what they expect to be covid), and so i figured maybe throwing this here online might be helpful to someone. please keep in mind this is likely a very mild case, and i’m fully aware of that and am grateful for it.

also, to be 1000000000000% transparent -- i have not received testing.

why? because i don’t qualify. but there ain’t’ much else that aligns with what i’ve been experiencing, so i’m assuming at this point that covid is what i have. you can take it or leave it for what it is. anyone writing this off purely because i haven’t been tested can just not, because i’m fully aware that there is an offhand chance that this is something else.

but i also would love to know what it could be, if its not covid.

i believe i was exposed to this in the second or third week of february. i had started at an office where people had been in Shanghai in late jan. the people seemed “fine” and so were not quarantined. it was during my second week that everyone started coughing, and by feb 20, i could begin to feel symptoms.

Week One:

first days involve mild scratchy throat and a runny nose. the nose subsides after a few days, but the throat persists. at this point, i hope assume its a cold or allergies.

Week Two:

Sore throat gets worse. begins to feel more and more like glass in my throat. the pain can vary from only my throat, to all the way down to my diaphragm. there are times when i find myself choosing not to speak because my throat hurts too much, and i’d rather not make it worse by speaking.

chest pain begins to set in, though its inconsistent in terms of when it appears, how it feels, where it feels, and how long it lasts. i often find the most pain up in the upper parts of my chest, a few fingers beneath my clavicles. but sometimes it can go all the way down to the bottom of my ribcage, a few fingers above my diaphragm.

pain seems to get worst when i’m trying to fall asleep. there are nights when i have difficulty sleeping because of the pressure on my chest or the pain in my throat.

i check daily for fevers, nothing to be found. at this stage, the only stuff showing online about covid seems to be the extreme cases, and since i still wasn’t showing the “normal” signs, i still wasn’t sure what i had.

Week Three:

Chest pains are more consistent more of the time. the throat continues to get worse, and there are periods of time when it seems like i could be getting fevers, but have no thermometer on hand to check.

small jaunts and tasks start to take the energy and wind out of me. they also seem to spark increases in body temperature. i begin to wear a mask when i’m out just in case. this is when i find my first online example of a mild covid case. the similarities are very sus, and i lowgrade start to panic.

i start to get pain in my nostrils towards the end of the week. these pains feel like the burning sensation you get when you’re running in very cold weather. they persist all the time, and don’t subside until week four.

by the end of the week, i have a consistent fever in the 99 range (keep in mind my body temp runs low) and my throat is so painful i don’t want to talk much. on the final day of this week, when my fever, throat, chest pain, and clamminess all combined their forces, i’m able to secure the ability to go home because i’m presenting “bad enough”.

Week Four:

fevers persist most of the week. there are days that are mostly fever-free, but anytime i decide to try and do anything, i get a fever spike. breathing is hard. chest pains seem to die back when the fever starts, and ramp up when the fevers subside.

everything exhausts me. i’m super tired and trying to get the energy to do anything is super hard. i spend this entire week in self quarantine because it took having a fever for my boss to let me stay home.

Week Five:

yes, there is a week five on this timeline. this is the week we’re currently in, and i’m in the middle of my “week” on this timeline.

so far, fevers still come and go and my throat still hurts regularly. at this stage, i’m having upticks in symptoms from other conditions i have, so the line is blurred btwn what is potentially covid, and what is potentially my body being its normal grating self. this is also a high-allergen week here, so its possible the throat is from allergies.

that being said, my energy is still super low, and breathing can still be challenging. i still have infrequent pain in my chest. i’m still not sure if this thing is ongoing, or if this is just the slow recovery period, and i probably won’t know anytime soon.

if there is interest, i could update next week as to whether there are any changes or not. but that’s been the general ride so far. hurray or something.

#covid #covid19 #off topic

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bluespiderlilies · 5 years

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Reincarnation | Hashibira Inosuke

⟵ previous (chapter six). current (chapter seven). next (chapter eight). ⟶

❝some memories never leave your bones. like salt in the sea, they become a part of you.❞

— and you carry them (p a p e r w i n g s by april green)

“Make sure they get to their recipients, Kemuri. When you come back, I promise you lots of fruits and nuts, alright?” You told your crow, securing the letters you had written earlier around her legs.

She merely cawed back in reply before snatching the almond that you had been snacking on earlier before flying off.

You blinked and looked at your hand, where the almond had been previously.

Well. No matter how much training they went through, their inner instincts came first.

“That was the last one, too.” You mumbled in disappointment, walking over to Inosuke who was swinging his swords against trees and tree branches.

“Inosuke?” You called out, poking his shoulder gently.

He didn’t respond as he continued to slice off the branches with clean cuts, but you knew you got his attention which he paused for that mere millisecond before swinging his sword again.

“I suggest we go look for a village to heal up for a night or two. Eat and maybe buy some things, too,” you prodded, tilting your head at him. “You know, get our fill of tempura, sashimi, udon, donburi…”

His head snapped towards you, the snout of the boar mask he was wearing touching your nose. Your eyes widened, not realizing that you were this close to Inosuke.

You felt your cheeks grow hot.

“Well? What’s that look for? I know you’re hungry for some tempura. Let’s go.” You said, turning your head to the opposite direction and walked away from him, swallowing down any of the feelings you had felt just now.

You had no idea what you were going through. Was it…was it an allergy from his boar mask? No, no…you’re beside Inosuke all the time, you had never gotten an allergic reaction from it before.

Then what is it?

Maybe I should ask Shiori when I go back…

Your eyes shifted to the boy who was now walking in front of you, with his arms crossed and head held up high.

You unconsciously smiled, shaking your head. He liked making competitions out of the smallest things—you supposed that’s just how he grew up. But lately, he hasn’t been challenging or trying to compete with you—you had no idea why, but you let him be. Besides, if you were to ask him (which you definitely would not. Confrontation was something you are not fond of, and they only happened with bursts of adrenaline or anger).

“Inosuke, you can pick out the restaurant when we arrive to a village, since I promised you that I’ll pay.” You reminded him, patting the pouch that had your money in it, a soft jingling sound being heard.

He turned to you at you, a mischievous glint in his eye—oh, oh, no…what is he thinking?

“Then what are you waiting for?! You’re so freaking slow!” Inosuke yelled; within a second, you were holstered over his shoulders like some damn sack of potatoes, breaking into a run.

“Inosuke! What are you doing?” You huffed, swaying slightly in his hold.

He didn’t reply; instead, he increased his pace. You sighed, deciding to just go with it. Because the boy was as stubborn as a mule (or boar, perhaps? Hah, you’re so funny), and you didn’t bother to say anything about it. Hey, at least you didn’t have to use your feet.

The inner lazy part of you was content with that.

“Inosuke, how’d you find out about the Final Selection Examination? I never got to ask you.” You asked, closing your eyes. You started to feel a bit dizzy from looking at he rapidly moving ground, as well as from the swaying—so, you tried distract yourself.

“I fought and beat up a Demon Slayer who invaded my mountains!” He started, seemingly proud. “I got my swords and he told me about demons and the test.”

You could imagine him with a smug smirk and steam blowing out of the mask’s nostrils as he spoke.

“Really? Wow, you’re so strong, Inosuke.” You praised light-heartedly, knowing that he would take you seriously.

“Of course I am! I’m the god of the mountains!” He cackled, pace increasing as he got more riled up from your compliment.

You sighed, shaking your head. Inosuke is a tough person to tolerate, you could tell by how he acts and the way his personality is—but, for some reason, you felt like ever since the two of you met, you sort of just…clicked, per se.

You liked being friends with him.

“Oi, woman! We’re here!” Inosuke barked, causing you to open your eyes and look around you. Indeed, the both of you had arrived to the village—the familiar chatter of people and the sounds of giggles of children playing entering your ears.

You half expected to Inosuke to just…throw you onto the ground; however, much to your surprise, he gently placed you back on the ground onto your feet.

“Thank you, Inosuke. I had fun with you carrying me,” You smiled gratefully at him, brushing off any dirt from your hakama; however, your lips soon turned into a concerned frown. “Are you sure I wasn’t heavy, though? I feel like I might’ve broken your shoulder or something.”

“I’m fine! I’m strong and I could carry ten billion of you if I could!” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

You bit your lip. You couldn’t really tell if he was lying since you couldn’t see his facial expressions, but his body language seemed to scream ‘I could carry you one billion times over and over if it was possible.’

“Okay, I believe you. Now, you should—” You were cut off by Inosuke abruptly pulling you by the hand, heading towards a restaurant.

Well. You were about to tell him to choose a restaurant.

You took a seat beside him as he took off the boar head, placing it on the chair beside him. The elderly man smiled at the both of you as you greeted him politely, and gave you both a set of menus.

While you skimmed through the sheet of mulberry paper with the handwritten food choices, you felt him nudge you harshly.

“Mm?” You hummed, not bothering to glance over at the boy beside you, despite him nudging you multiple times.

“I don’t know how to read or write! Order for me, woman!” He demanded, slamming the menu on the counter.

You blinked.

Oh.

“You could’ve said so earlier when the man handed it to you,” You chided, taking his menu and put it under yours. “I’ll read the options to you, and tell me if you want them, yeah?”

He grunted in response.

Your eyes looked over the familiar kanji, clearing your throat before you read it aloud to him.

“Tempura.”

“Hell yes!”

“Yakitori.”

“Yes!”

“Gyoza.”

“Yes!”

“Udon.”

“Yes!”

…this is going to take a while.

∞

I wonder if there’s an inn or a place where we can stay, you thought, after paying and thanking the man for your meal—or, well, meals, since you had to order a lot for the boar boy who was currently beside you, hands behind his head and walking in a relaxed manner.

He looked so satisfied.

Maybe I should spoil him more if he ends up acting like this.

Your lips curled upwards into an amused smile, shaking your head at the thought. Honestly, if you did, you would have no more money left. And you would never ask Shiori for money—you didn’t want to burden her.

As your eyes looked over at the handwritten ink kanji that displayed the name of various shops within the village, none of them said inn. You were patient, however, and if you couldn’t find one—well…you supposed you and Inosuke would end up sleeping under the stars tonight.

It was better than asking people if you two could stay over for a night, right?

Of course. Because being a burden to someone was one of the worst feelings ever. You…you knew that feeling quite well.

“Hey, woman.” Inosuke called out, breaking you away from your thoughts.

Your attention shifted onto him, blinking a couple times before answering with a hum of acknowledgement.

“That’s the same picture of the place we stayed at last time.” He pointed out, gesturing to the house with a crest of a wisteria flower.

“Ah. So it must be one of those Wisteria Family Households Akio was talking about.” You realized, quickening your pace.

Inosuke easily caught up to you with just a couple strides. “Hah? Who’s Abita?”

“It’s Akio,” you sigh, “you know, the guy who tried to flirt with me. He sat beside me at the restaurant in the other village.”

He gave you a blank look. “What the hell is flirting?”

You stopped in your tracks. Is he serious? He didn’t know what flirting was? Did living in the mountains make him this oblivious?

“It’s, well…it’s when someone acts that they like you in a, um, romantic way, but it’s actually playful—not serious. Most of the time, that is.” You stuttered, explaining to the best of your ability. You didn’t have to explain such a thing to anybody before—of course you are going to struggle.

“What does liking someone in a romantic way mean?” He questioned.

“I don’t know,” You huffed, throwing your arms in the air in an exasperated manner. “I’ve never felt that way before.”

“Huh? I thought you knew everything!” Inosuke barked, pointing a finger at you accusingly.

“Well, clearly, I don’t. I’m only fifteen. I know what I know because I either read them in books, observe, or people who are experienced tell me,” You told him, pausing for a moment before speaking up again. “And said people have told me what it feels like to like someone romantically, so I’ll relay what they’ve told me.

“When you like someone in a romantic way, you get all happy and tingly when you see them laugh or smile. I guess notice the small things? Like how their eyes light up when they talk about the things they like, their nervous habits, and the like. You feel comfortable yet anxious around them, since you mostly want to impress them and not say anything that may make you bad.” You paused for a moment, trying to remember what other things the women of the village talked about.

“You, um… feel connected to them in emotional way. Whether it’s how they express how they feel, or the way they talk, you feel attracted to it. You want to support them and be there for them no matter what—especially during their happy moments and hardships, or something. You want to comfort them when they are sad, you want to be the reason why you make their day.

“Their looks don’t matter. Sure, it may be a factor in why you love them, but it’s only a small one. Their personality is what stands out to you. Whether it’s the good or bad, you love them for all their flaws and imperfections. Sometimes, you can’t focus because of them—because they occupy your thoughts most of the time. No matter how hard you try to get rid of the thoughts of them, you can’t. Because they’re stuck in there.

“You always want to be close to them and not necessarily in a…” you swallowed, biting the insides of your cheek, “very… intimate way. You want to feel their warmth, hold them tight in your arms, inhale their comforting scent, and just relax in their presence, because that is the only thing that would matter to you on those moments.

“When you’re around them, all you can focus on is them and the way your heart is beating much faster, you have weird feeling in your stomach, you feel all hot and giddy at same time. That, all in all, is what liking someone romantically means.”

Phew. All that explaining really made you feel breathless.

“…that sounds dumb.” Inosuke commented with a nonchalant shrug, walking ahead of you.

Your eyebrow twitched. Did you just explain all of that for nothing?

“Oh, gods above, please help me.” You muttered, following after Inosuke. He had already knocked—no, banged—on the door of the house, waiting for someone to just open it.

He was about to bang once again when it opened, revealed two identical women—the only difference was their kimono pattern.

They were about your height, their slowly graying, plum purple hair styled in the traditional maru-mage, framing their round, petite face that had light wrinkles on their forehead, eyes, and the corner of their thin lips. They had drooping, almond shaped eyes that had that color of teal—which matched the jewels on the hairpins they donned.

The one of the right had a kimono whose color was that of cream, with sky blue chrysanthemums and green leaves decorating the clothes. The one of the left had a kimono whose color was of peach, majestic cranes with their beaks carrying pink cherry blossoms, decorating the clothes.

How stylish.

“Hello, kids!” The one on the right smiled warmly, stepping aside along with her counterpart so the two of you could enter. “Welcome to the Wisteria Family Household.”

“Thank you…” You trailed off, as you didn’t know their names.

“Ah! I’m Fujimoto Kotone,” the one in the peach colored kimono introduced, “this is my twin sister, Fujimoto Kohana.”

The said woman, Kohana, frowned. “I can speak for myself, big mouth.”

“I’m just being nice, you idiot. I guess you don’t understand because you’re never nice to me.” Kotone answered with a huff.

You blinked. Are they fighting right now?

“I’m, um, I’m (L/N) (Name),” You said, trying to cut off their pointless bickering. “That’s Hashibira Inosuke.”

Kotone paused, pinching her sister’s side (causing Kohana to wince and slap her hand away) before smiling sweetly at you. “It’s wonderful to meet you both. Here, let me show you to the room. You can change into your yukata there.”

You nodded, following her into the hallway before stopping in front of two rooms, which were right across from each other.

“I’ll prepare your meals with my sister.”

“Actually,” You piped up, stopping her from leaving. “We ate a big meal before coming here, so it’s okay.”

Kotone nodded. “Alright, then. I’ll call over a doctor. Please, take your time.”

She flashed you two a warm smile before disappearing into the corridor, going to who-knows-where.

“I claim this futon!” Inosuke shouted, jumping onto the futon in your designated room that was on your right.

“Sure.” You shrugged, stepping into the room. You slid the door close, taking off your bow and unstrapped your quiver, placing them on the ground.

Why didn’t they give us separate rooms? Goodness…

“Inosuke, look away.”

“Why?! I can do whatever I want!” He said, turning his head to look at you and crossed his arms.

“Inosuke, a guy, like you, shouldn’t look when a girl is changing. That’s how it is.”

“Huh? Why?”

You sighed, frowning. “Because that’s how it works. Now turn around.”

Inosuke grumbled to himself, turning away.

You slipped out of your clothes, folding them neatly and placed them beside your futon. After getting dressed in your yukata, Kohana announced that the doctor had arrived.

Kohana lead you to the room where the doctor was in, your eyes widened in recognition.

“Hello—oh! (Name)-san! I didn’t know that I would see you soon again.” The doctor from Akio’s household, Kimoto Botan, greeted as she looked up from her bag.

“Yes…we just came back from a mission.” You replied, bowing your head out of politeness.

“We?”

“My partner, Hashibira Inosuke.”

“Ah! The rowdy one.”

You smiled out of amusement. “Yeah, the rowdy one. Want me to bring him over?”

“That’d be ideal! Thank you.” She said, placing her bag down on the ground and began to take out the supplies.

You slid the shoji to the room open, seeing him sprawled on the futon with his boar mask on, hearing a faint groan.

“Inosuke? The doctor is here. You should come over to the other room to get checked out.” You spoke gently, placing a gentle hand on his bicep.

“No. You already did everything for me.” He grunted, turning his head away. You heard a faint wince.

“But, what I did at the farmhouse isn’t enough. Please, can you come with me?” You coaxed, taking his calloused hand in yours and tugged it lightly.

He gripped your hand, slowly getting up from his spot and trailed after you with sluggish steps. You weren’t so sure what was wrong with him—perhaps due to the wounds and painkillers you had given him, they had finally taken effect and he mellowed out—after all, the herbs you used helped calm and sooth a person from any pain they were experiencing.

“Huh? Is everything okay with him? I thought he’d be very energetic.” The doctor wondered, letting him sit down in front of her as she began to check his wounds.

“I gave him some painkillers. I think they made him soften up.”

Botan looked up at you, eyebrows raised. “What were they?”

“White willow bark and lavender essential oil.”

“I see. (Name), were you a herbalist before you became a demon slayer?”

You shook your head. “No. But, growing up, I had to learn such things.”

She frowned, unwrapping the bandages on Inosuke’s torso and shoulder. “What? Where did you grow up?”

“In a—”

“W-wait, (Name), your nose is bleeding!”

“Huh?”

Indeed, she was right—your nose was bleeding from both of your nostrils, blooding sliding down your lips and onto your chin, dripping into the tatami floors and your yukata.

You cursed in your mind, trying to wipe away the blood—thankfully, however, Botan gave you a cloth to put over your nose, instructing you to pinch your nose while leaning forward.

You were silent after that, instead watching her stitch and disinfect any of Inosuke’s wounds before wrapping new bandages on his body.

You didn’t know why you had gotten a nosebleed; but, you speculated that it was because you used the technique that Izumi-san taught you.

She did warn you that there were after affects for those who didn’t use the technique often enough—and the most common was getting a nosebleed or seriously sore muscles. Worst case scenario? Temporary paralysis.

“Alright, (Name), let’s clean you up and get you checked. I think I saw you limping.”

Damn. How’d she catch that? You internally sighed, moving to side in front of her.

“Why don’t you treat your own injuries?” She asked, while slipping off your yukata.

“They’re not serious.” You shrugged, laying on the futon; you made sure to wrap bandages around your chest area earlier just in case the doctor needed you to take off you’re the yukata.

“Oh, my…(Name), what’s with all those scars on your back?” She whispered, thumb gently brushing over each of the long, thin scars. You felt like each one she touched elicited the painful memories.

45 lashes for dishonesty.

30 lashes for disobedience.

35 lashes for discipline.

50 lashes for disloyalty.

And for what? Because you could never satisfy him.

Your father.

∞

You let out sigh, adjusting the lamp near on the short-legged table you sat in front of in the corner of your room, your journal in front of you.

It was opened on a clean, blank page—to which you would write the events of your day. You took the ink brush and stroked it against the ink stone, before beginning to write in the journal.

You felt Inosuke’s stare on your back, causing you to pause and look over your shoulder. “Inosuke? Do you need something?”

“What are you doing?” He asked, brushing his hair out of his face and sat next to you, looking at your journal. Though he couldn’t understand a single word, he tried to decipher the contents of the page.

“Writing a journal to my mother and grandmother. Itʼs a comfort thing.” You replied simply, swiping the brush over the ink stone before continuing to write.

“You have family?”

You paused for a slightest moment before turning to the next page. “No, they’re dead. But, I have a new family, even if they’re not blood-related to me.”

After that, Inosuke was silent.

You didn’t know why, but you didn’t bother to question him. Instead, you finished writing in your journal.

About to turn off the lamp, the door to the room slid open, revealing Kotone. She smiled warmly at the two of you, greeting you.

“Hello, you two. I saw that you still haven't gone to sleep.”

“Sorry,” you felt guilty. “I needed to do write some things before I went to sleep.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, no, it’s quite alright. I just wanted to tell you both something.”

You watched the way Inosuke perked up at Kotone’s words, eyes narrowed.

“So? Hurry up and tell us!”

She laughed once again. “It’s nothing much. Tomorrow, our village will be holding out annual wisteria festival. I thought maybe you two would like to join us?”

You pursed your lips, averting your eyes to your fidgeting fingers. It’s been a long, long time since you had last attended a festival—which made you a little nervous. You only performed during them, only rarely would you have gotten to explore and actually have fun.

It would be a good change.

“Okay,” You nodded, looking over at Inosuke, “What about you?”

“I’ve never been to a festival!” He grumbled.

“Well, there’s lots of games and food—”

Inosuke perked up at the mention of food. “I’m going!”

Kotone grinned. “Wonderful! Make you two get lots of sleep. Goodnight.”

You bid her a goodnight as well, turning off the lamp before slipping under your covers.

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow. It would be a good change of atmosphere.

∞

“No, no! Kohana, this is the perfect kimono for her! Look at it! It’s gorgeous and suits her!”

It was only late afternoon, yet the two middle-aged women were fighting about what you would wear to the Wisteria Festival—which would be happening in the evening.

“Then, why not?” You answered, resting your chin on the palm of your hand on the chabudai table. “I’ll wear it.”

Kotone let out a childish squeal. “Yes! See, Kohana?”

Her twin narrowed her eyes at her. “Did I fucking say I didn’t like it? No, so piss of with the bragging.”

Kotone rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind her snippy attitude, (Name). She’s just disappointed that the man she liked is engaged to another woman.”

Kohana slapped her sister’s arm. “Shut up! That is my personal business.”

Kotone frowned. “So? It’s not like she’s gonna announce it to the entire country. (Name)’s quiet.”

“I don’t—”

You immediately zoned out of the conversation, not wanting to listen to their bickering. It was quite exhausting, to be honest. You didn’t like being around conflict much—despite, well, certain circumstances. Like being a Demon Slayer.

You took the kimono that Kotone seemed to love, walking behind the folding screen. You took off the yukata they had provided you and slipped on the nagajuban, then the kimono. It wasn’t bad looking it at; it was black and white with a flock of cranes flying as a design below the bronze colored obi, which contrasted the colors of the kimono.

It was simple yet stylish—just how you like it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to cry!” Kotone sniffed, a bright smile on her features as you stepped in front of the folding screen.

Kohana rolled her eyes, features softening upon the sight of you. “You look stunning in the kimono, (Name).”

Oh.

Shit, how do you respond to compliments?

You merely blink at the woman, lips sealed shut, mind racing with thoughts.

Kohana laughed at your blank expression, patting you on the back. “You don’t have to respond. Your blank face is amusing.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of her. She just might be socially awkward, that’s all.” Kotone chided, pushing Kohana away from you and side-hugged you.

You scrunched your nose. How straightforward.

“I’m going to my room to get prepared for the festival. Thanks for the kimono.” You bowed politely, sliding open the shoji before exiting Kotone’s room.

You sighed. You were sort of nervous thinking about the festival—after all, you’d never really got to enjoy them…instead, you had to perform, doing kagura dances and entertaining other people.

But now? You got to go on your own free will, this time you being the one entertained, and not you doing it.

It was sort of refreshing, to say the least.

“Where is he?” You muttered, sliding the door open to the backyard of the house.

There he was, sitting on the engawa, leaning backwards with his arms supporting him. He, surprisingly, did not have his boar mask on—he was merely staring off into the distance, dazed.

“Inosuke.”

“Gah!” He jumped, startled by your sudden presence. “What is your problem?!”

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one daydreaming.” You deflected, sitting down beside him.

“I would’ve senses your presence, but you barely have one!”

You hummed, crossing your arms and looking over at him. “But that’s not my problem, now is it?”

“You…!”

“Now that we have settled that, you should get dressed for the festival soon. It’s almost evening.”

He huffed. “No! Why can’t I go in this?!”

Inosuke gestured to the yukata he was wearing before he crossed his arms over his chest.

“That’s informal and used to wear at homes other than the jinbei. Besides, Kotone-san already has one picked for you,” You explained, poking his chest. “You don’t want to be late and all the food to be gone, now do you?”

“Huh?! No way!” He shouted, immediately getting up, heading to Kotone’s room.

You laughed quietly to yourself, getting up from your spot on the engawa. You looked up at the slowly changing colors of the sky, the sun gradually beginning to prepare for its slumber.

You headed to your room, opening the shoji before sliding it shut. You rummaged through your sack, taking out some of your small weapons.

Kunai, shuriken, and a tessen fan.

In a normal situation, such things were deemed extremely unnecessary—why would you bring weapons to a festival? But, then, you are reminded of your current occupation—you are a Demon Slayer. This is your life now. You are to be prepared for anything. Who knows if a demon would attack, considering it’s a festival with lots of humans gathered.

Though, yes, there were going to be wisteria—after all, the village were surrounded by them, but who knows? There could be demons that could get into the village by some sort of unknown means, or perhaps demons even immune to such things.

Man, you are so paranoid.

So, without a thought, you concealed the weapons throughout the kimono, making sure they wouldn’t slip out from any accidental gestures or sudden movements.

Unfurling the fan, it revealed a beautiful design of a golden moon in the middle of what it seemed like the night sky, orange lilies facing the moon.

Elegant, but deadly.

It reminded you of someone.

∞

“So many people…” You muttered, eyes darting around at the crowds of people laughing and conversing, as well as the giggles and squeals of children running about—indeed, the atmosphere felt familiar; it was positive and bustling, like the others you had attended before.

You felt a tug on the side of your kimono, turning around to see Inosuke gripping your obi, and had a troubled expression on his face. His eyes seemed to dart around at the crowds of people, his frown deepening.

Ah.

He wasn’t very used to crowds of people, huh?

“Inosuke, does anything catch your attention?” You asked, hooking your arm around his and began to guide him to the stalls, where the multitude of people lessened.

He tensed under your touch before relaxing, looking over at you glancing at the stalls. “What’s that?”

“Ah, I think that’s where you goldfish scoop.” You answered before greeting the man at the stall politely. You gave him some money before he handed over the two of you a poi and a bowl, which had washi paper over it.

“Look, you have to put as much goldfish as you can inside of the bowl before the washi paper tears.” You explained, proceeding to scoop the squirming goldfish before placing it in the bowl.

“This is a dumb game! I want something more challenging!” He demanded.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Whoever gets more inside the bowl wins and gets to eat the other’s dinner.”

Inosuke’s emerald eyes seemed to shine brightly with determination. “Hah! I’m going to beat you!”

So, you let him.

You couldn’t help it—it was too endearing. His easily excitable self was amusing—besides, he let you keep the goldfish. You made a mental note to let them free later.

You guided him to each of the games and stalls, teaching him how the traditional games worked—surprisingly, he was good at them; even if it was his first time. The best part? You got to keep his winnings.

“Why are you giving them to me, anyways?” You asked, hugging the stuffed animal—a rabbit—close to your chest.

“I don’t need them. They’re useless.” He answered, taking a bite of his yakitori.

“But they make good souvenirs and memories, don’t they?”

“Hah? Does it look like I care? I only want to get stronger!” He puffed out his chest proudly.

You hummed in response. “I care. I barely have any good ones, so I want to make as much as I can. It sort of sounds silly, but,” you smiled, tucking a stray hair behind your ears. “It makes me happy.”

Inosuke almost choked on his food, the sight of your genuine smile catching him off-guard. Not to mention the lighting of the warm, gold lamps made it seem like you were glowing—the sudden skip of his heartbeat made him feel flustered.

What the hell was that all about?!

He scrunched his nose in distaste, throwing away the skewer. He didn’t want to occupy his mind with such thoughts.

“Ah, Inosuke. I think it’s time for the lanterns to he set in the river and the fireworks to start.” You said, taking his hand in yours as you began to work your way through the crowds, holding both your and Inosuke’s lantern with the other.

For some reason, you liked the touch of Inosuke’s hand—it was large and calloused, but very warm and comforting. Not to mention that your hand fit with his perfectly, a warm feeling spreading in your chest.

You stopped when you arrived to the front of the lake, sitting down and patted the spot beside you. “Here, we let the chochin float about in the lake.”

“What’s the point in this?”

“To ward off evil spirits and the like.”

“Those don’t exist.”

“Many people do believe in them, though.”

“Those people are dumb.”

“Inosuke,” you huffed, looking at him. “Just put it in the river.”

He grumbled, placing the lantern on the lake at the same time as you. You pushed them, watching as the light glow of the many lanterns illuminating the lake, giving it a warm shimmer.

Loud explosive sounds began to ring out in the air, causing the two of you to jump put of surprise. However, you immediately calmed down upon noticing it was only the fireworks, the colors bursting into the sky in large sparks—dancing among the stars momentarily before disappearing.

“What the hell? Those are fireworks?” Inosuke grumbled, pointing to the sky.

“Yeah. Those are it. Aren’t they cool?” You smiled, looking up at the sky.

He watched as the sparkling lights and colors reflected against your irises, your small smile brightening your face. Inosuke felt his cheeks warm up, causing him to huff out of annoyance.

“No, they’re fucking boring. It makes me wanna sleep.”

Your attention shifted over to him, watching as he rubbed his eyelids and how he barely managed to keep them open. “Okay, then sleep on my lap.”

“Huh?! No!”

“It’s better than sleeping in the grass.”

“I don’t—!”

You cut him off by tugging on his yukata harshly, the side of his head landing on your lap. “Sleep, you big baby. Don’t complain too much.”

You began to run your fingers through his hair in a gentle manner, causing him to relax under your touch once again. He felt his muscles loosen up and his eyes begin to close, a wave of tiredness washing over him.

You smiled to yourself, looking up at the fireworks. You were already used to such things—the little boys in the village always liked to hang out with you before they got tired, sleeping on your lap as you brushed their hair with your fingers.

However, for some reason, this moment felt awfully intimate with Inosuke. You felt the heat in your cheeks rise as you peeked at his sleeping face, a relaxed expression on his features as his lips parted with each breath he took, chest rising and falling.

These feelings...what are they?

#inosuke hashibira #hashibira inosuke #inosuke x reader #inosuke hashibira x reader #hashibira inosuke x reader #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader

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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years

Text

Hi honey. I’m sending this as a submission bc it’s going to be long; I just read your rant and I have a few things to say:

I’m so sorry and my heart bleeds for you right now. You have so much going on in your life and you’re feeling like you just need everything to slow down. I know it is all so much for you to have to take on at a time like this and I wish I could take some of your apprehension and anxiety for my own so that you weren’t hurting like this.

I truly hope your father gets better soon and all is well around your household again. It is very difficult to stick to the right path when a family member is ill. I’m keeping you in my thoughts, darling.

Self-care is not something which I am skilled in, but I do know that it is important and when we start to feel as you do right now, then we must take a step back and take care of ourselves first. Listen to your body and what it is telling you it needs. Does it need food? Rest? A shower? A fresh change of clothes? Love? Listen to your body and take care of it accordingly💗 your body will reward you if you treat it with all the same love and kindness as you do with Joker. He would love on you, darling, so why not love in yourself a little as well and make him even more proud of you than he already is?

As for the Covid testing, I know many who have had it done and most say it is not that bad. I don’t want to completely sugar-coat it, darling. It is a little uncomfortable, but it won’t be bad. We’ve talked at length about my experiences with this and so I tell you with the greatest certainty that it won’t be horrible at all. You will be fine, darling, just take a deep breath and it will be over very quickly. When I first started taking nasal sprays for allergies, I really had to psych myself up to do it because I cannot stans the thought of sticking something up my nose. But once I did it, it wasn’t so bad and now I do it without a thought. My point is that once you do it, you’ll realize it wasn’t so bad and then it’s over and you won’t have to worry anymore. I’ve found that usually the worst part about doing anything is worrying about it.

I hope you are able to get some rest tonight and find time to clear your head. I know Joker is there with you, ready to shower you in all the love and care you deserve. He is so so proud of you for making it through times like these. He knows them well, the poor soul, but now that you have each other to rely on during tough times, he doesn’t mind the rain so much because once the storm clouds clear he can see you for the stunning rainbow that you are💗

Take good care of yourself, Erika. I love you and so does Joker💗 @loveletterstoledger

Under a cut because Emotions pertaining to my recent venting posts are discussed.

Angel, omg 😭😭😭😭😭 I woke up to this after getting about three hours of sleep; I went to bed in plenty of time to get some proper rest last night but I was up so long worrying that in the end I only really had a nap, and this made me cry!💖 I really needed your kind words more than I realised and I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to send them to me, even with how you feel and with how much you’re going through. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

You’re right, now that I think about it... I do need everything to just... slow down. Things are happening all at once or not at all and every time I think I’ve got a grip on what’s happening in the world in general and also in my own life, every time I think I’ve processed something, there’s only something else to take its place. Time waits for no one, but jeez, I need a breather... I know I’m not the only one, of course I’m not, and I feel really guilty for putting negativity on people’s dashes and on my blog, which is meant to be a safe and warm space. People go to my blog to escape for a bit, not to face someone else’s problems. I put it all under a cut so people could choose for themselves to read it or not, but even so, I feel bad for it and I truly hope no one, especially you, was negatively affected by the venting posts I’ve recently posted. I apologise if so, loves.

My dad’s already getting better. He’s still not 100% but he’s much better than he was, which is a relief! Thank you so much for asking, angel! When my loved ones get sick, I get Very Scared. Even if they have a cold, I’m on edge until they get better because, especially right now, everyone’s at risk and people are dying everywhere and things are both not enough and too much all at once, if you understand what I mean. I’m just so, so scared, of everything all of the time and it’s truly exhausting. I put off bedtime every night until 2-3AM because I’m so scared that when I log off, someone I love on here will get injured or die or something and I’ll never hear from them again and I’ve even had dreams of death announcements on here and it’s... it’s not normal to have this high a level of fear for so long and funnily enough, I’m almost scared of how scared I always am and it’s a vicious cycle.

Thank you for that reminder, angel. I am... a mess right now. I’m functioning, but I’m definitely not okay. I’m barely eating (I am eating, but because my dad’s sick I just can’t bring myself to eat properly knowing he’s suffering), and because of how worried I am about everything, I’m barely sleeping... I slept three hours last night and grabbed an hour’s nap today. I’ll try to sleep more tonight but it’s just... everything just seems really hard right now. The only thing which is easy is sitting on my bed and watching the world pass me by and it’s a fight to not let myself totally zone out. I’ve been losing snatches of time - ten minutes here, half an hour there - and I’m trying to stay here, where reality calls. Thank you, angel; I very often forget to “tune in” to my body to find out what it needs and I’m definitely neglecting it. Today, I ate all three meals so I’m kind of proud of myself but at the same time, it’s concerning that that’s a point of celebration; it should be something I do so easily I don’t even think about it. OMG Joker 😭🥺 he’s with me, but there’s a very heavy air around him which I can’t read properly and I feel like he’s disapproving or maybe just super concerned. But he’s keeping me here ‘in touch’ with myself and I’m infinitely grateful to him and to you and to others for helping me to do the same. That’s very true omggg ~ 🥺🥺 I aspire every day to make my clown proud of me ❤ I hope that you’re looking after yourself in all the ways Pat and J want you to, my love! They’re so, so proud of you so why not make them prouder by treating yourself as they would?💜

I, ah... I did the Covid testing. I had to do it to myself and then a courier came and picked it up. I had to put a swab right to my tonsils and I wasn’t even half way into my mouth before I was gagging and then I had to use the same swab up both nostrils and that made me sneeze really badly afterwards and it was extremely uncomfortable and I got upset afterwards, but I did it. I hope the results help the government with their research, which is why I did the test! A moral obligation, if you will... thank you so, so much for comforting me with this too, angel. It’s extremely distressing, this pandemic, and I know that you’ve had your own experiences with it and I’m so, so proud of you for getting through it, angel! 🌷 I’m so sorry that you had to psych yourself up to do nasal sprays; I’ve never used them for the same reasons as you but I’m glad that they help you! Thank you, my love; and you’re right! The worrying was much worse than the actual test; I had panic attacks over something which was done in less than five minutes.

You are truly so, so wise and I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to send me in such kind, patient and loving words. That’s very true; if anyone knows what it’s like to lay awake worrying about things one can’t control, it’s our beloved Joker, the poor man. I can feel him here, in part; he feels heavy around me but he hasn’t left for even a moment, which I’m very grateful to him for. I’d be so lost without my clown. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are a real and true source of strength and inspiration for me and I cannot thank you enough for being who you are and for doing what you do. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please take care of yourself and know that you are loved, dearheart!💚💙

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biillyhargroves · 5 years

Note

A harringrove fluff prompt with a combo of: “I know it smells bad, but you’ll feel better, trust me” and “I’m not going to yell at you”

hot to the touch(fic requests open)

Steve Harrington does not get sick.

Sure, there was a bought of ear infections in the second grade, but who didn’t go through that? And in the third grade there was the chicken pox so bad he still has little pockmarked scars speckling his sides. And, yeah, okay, there was the Great Strep Throat Fiasco of 1976, three weeks that will live in infamy. But outside of his pre-adolescent pink eye and the week of relentless bronchitis in freshman year, Steve Harrington does. not. get. sick.

Except, of course, when he does.

It starts as a tickle in his throat. He chalks it up to hay fever, pops an allergy pill from his mother’s medicine cabinet, and heads to school. By the end of first period, the tickle has become a cough that reaches deeper and deeper into his chest as the day goes on. He wears his letterman jacket to third period to ward off the chill he swears is coming from the draft, even if Carol swears she can’t feel a thing and Nicole points out he’s not even near a vent. By lunch, Tommy has to catch him before he face-plants into his meatloaf. The resulting clamor catches Billy’s attention, as Steve shoves Tommy away from him and Carol starts to berate him for refusing Tommy’s help.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Billy asks, one brow raised as Steve stumbles toward the door.

“Nothing,” Steve says a bit too aggressively. Billy holds up a hand in mock-defense.

“Shit,” he says. “Fine. Sorry I fucking asked.”

“It’s not,” Steve starts, then says, “I didn’t mean-” and then, “I’m fine.”

“Keep lying,” Billy shrugs. “Fuck if I care.”

But he can’t keep his eyes off of Steve as Steve retreats down the hall, slipping into the boy’s room where he will take up a stall for the remainder of the day. Billy thinks about going after him, but they’ve set rules for a reason: at school, it’s business as usual. No public displays, no cause for suspicion. They avoid each other when they can, and when they can’t, it’s the same old song and dance. So far, it seems to be working, and Billy’s not about to fuck it up for them both.

Max, though, is an observant kid. She knows that something’s wrong when she slams the car door shut and the Camaro is still in park. They’r not speeding away. Billy has an unlit cigarette pinched between his fingers and his drumming his fingers to a beat that isn’t there because he hasn’t switched the radio on.

“Dustin said Steve looked sick yesterday,” she says casually.

“Why would I care?” Billy snaps.

“Was he at school?” Max asks.

“Yeah,” Billy says. He doesn’t look at Max at all, and Max cranes her neck to see over the dashboard. She points to the red Beemer idling by itself in the high school parking lot.

“Isn’t that Steve’s car?” she asks.

“How the fuck should I know?”

“Because he’s driven you home in it, dumbass.”

“The fuck did you just call me?”

“He’s in the car,” Max says. “I think. It looks like he is.”

“You obsessed with Harrington now?”

“You are.”

“You’re a real shit, Max, you know that?”

“Just go check on your boyfriend.”

“Max!” Billy slams his palm hard against the steering wheel, hard enough to shake the dash and loud enough to get Max to jump back in her seat. She shrinks back for a moment, her eyes wide, as Billy rounds on her- nostrils flared and eyes hot. She swallows thickly, then juts her chin out towards him.

“No one’s even here,” she says. “No one’s gonna see you.”

Billy half-sighs, half-growls as he sags back against his seat. He scans the parking lot- which is, as Max pointed out, empty. Then he glares back at Max.

“You say anything about this to anyone, you’re dead.”

“Who am I gonna tell?”

“Just shut up and stay in the car.”

Before Max can answer him, Billy flings open his door. He strides across the boundary between Hawkins Middle School and Hawkins High School and makes his way to Steve’s car, which has been parked but running since fifteen minutes after the final bell. Billy ducks down as he approaches, squinting into the car. Steve is in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel, eyes half-closed. Billy hovers, waiting to be noticed, and when Steve doesn’t look at him he raps his knuckles against the window.

Steve jolts awake, scrambling frantically to roll down the window and looking dazed as his wide eyes met Billy’s. “I don’t-” he starts, then stammers, “I can-”, and then he starts to say something else but Billy holds up a hand to stop him.

“Easy,” he says. Steve blinks rapidly, and his flushed cheeks turn redder as he registers who he’s look at it. As Steve is connecting dots, Billy is opening his car door and reaching down to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“Woah, woah, woah, I thought we said-”

“Do you know what time it is?” Billy asks. “Everyone’s gone. Let’s go.”

“I don’t-”

“Out of the car, Harrington.”

“I have to-”

“-not fucking drive, is what you have to do.”

“Billy, I-” But Billy has slipped a hand beneath Steve’s arm and is hauling him to his feet. Steve stumbles out of the car, falling hard against Billy as he tries to find his footing. His blush deepens further and he tries to push himself off, mumbling apologies.

“Relax,” Billy tells him, already beginning to guide him back to the Camaro. “I’m not gonna yell at you.” He opens the back door of the Camaro, giving Max a pointed look as he helps Steve into the back seat. “Lay down, Harrington. You look like shit.”

“S’not nice,” Steve grumbles, but he does fall against the back bench of the car. Billy falls heavily into the driver’s seat and tells Max to turn around. She rolls her eyes, but does as he says, and she says nothing as Billy drives right past Cherry Lane and makes the sharp left turn onto Steve’s street. His parents are out for the week- Max knows this because Billy had spending nights at Steve’s, something that Dustin asked her about when he stopped by to borrow something and saw Billy’s car parked around the corner.

With no parents home, Billy parks in the driveway. He secures Steve’s arm around his shoulders and instructs Max to take Steve’s keys. She uses the house key to open the front door, and then Billy tells her not to break anything.

“I’m not five, asshole.”

“Shut up and sit down, shitbird.”

Max settles herself in the living room as Billy hauls Steve up the stairs, Steve protesting the whole way up, swearing up and down that he can walk on his own and he doesn’t need help and he’s not sick, Billy, stop saying that because Steve Harrington does not get sick.

“Get in the fucking bed,” says Billy once they make it to Steve’s room.

“Oh, that’s how this is gonna go?” Steve hums with a sly grin, but his charm is hindered by the hacking cough that breaks up his words. Billy takes a pair of sweatpants from Steve’s drawer, then a t-shirt from another.

“No way in hell,” Billy says. “I’m not catching that shit.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Steve says. “I don’t get sick.”

“Whatever, Harrington,” Billy says. He tosses the clothes at Steve. “You look like road kill.”

“You’re a real dick, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Billy says. “I’ve heard. Get changed. I’ll be right back.”

Billy leaves Steve in a bundle of blankets and gym clothes and retreats down the stairs. Max, who had been in the living room flipping through channels on a television she thinks is probably bigger than Mike’s and Dustin’s combined, abandons her search when she hears Billy start to rummage through the kitchen. She watches from the doorway as he pulls a bottle of apple cider vinegar from Mrs. Harrington’s cupboard. He pulls little spice bottles from a rack on the counter and starts to shake them all into a cup: onion powder, garlic, ginger. He even cuts a lemon in half and squeezes the juice in. Just the thought of that combination makes Max wrinkle her nose.

“Are you gonna poison him or something?”

“What did I tell you?” Billy snaps.

“I mean, that shit is rank.”

“Max,” Billy warns.

“Whatever,” Max sighs. “Just try not to kill him with that shit. I like Steve.”

“I’m not gonna kill him,” Billy says. He uses a spoon to mix the possibly-not-poison, then grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator and pushes past Max to get back upstairs. He stops off in the bathroom and raids the medicine cabinet, shaking some Tylenol from its bottle before returning to Steve, who is half-dozing and half-dressed when Billy arrives. “Oh, yeah,” Billy says. “You’re not sick at all.”

“Shut up,” Steve mumbles. Billy sets his haul on the nightstand. He reaches for Steve, who squirms and ducks away from him until Billy’s palm lands against his forehead.

“Shit, Harrington,” Billy says. His tone softens and he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. He moves his hand from Steve’s forehead and gentle brushes Steve’s hair out of his face. “C’mere,” he says. “Sit up.” He piles pillows behind Steve’s head as Steve pushes himself upright.

“It’s nothing,” Steve says. “I’m fine,”

“Uh-huh,” Billy says. He grabs the concoction he’d made downstairs and offers the cup to Steve. “Drink this.”

“What the fuck is that?” Steve asks, turning his head away from the cup and raising one hand to push it away.

“Yeah, I know,” Billy says. “It smells like shit. But you’ll feel better, trust me.” Steve looks warily at Billy and reluctantly takes his offering. He takes one sip, then coughs and tries to hand it back to Billy, but Billy opens his palm so he can’t take it back. “Nope,” he says. “Whole thing. Come on. Chug it.”

Steve groans, but he tips his head back and downs the rest of the offending drink. Billy takes the empty glass, then offers Steve the Tylenol and water, which he downs like a chaser.

“What the hell kind of poison was that?” Steve asks.

“Something my mom used to give me,” Billy says, “when I was a kid. I got these really nasty colds, and she was all into natural remedies. Most of it sounded like bullshit, but this shit works.”

“You swear?” Steve asks. “Because I think it made everything on my inside want to be on my outside.”

“It’ll settle down,” Billy says. As they talk, Steve slips further down on the pillows and seems to move closer and closer to Billy. Billy sets the water bottle on the nightstand and settles his now-freed hand against Steve’s back as Steve drops his head onto Billy’s lap.

“Hey, Billy?” Steve mumbles sleepily. Billy rubs his thumb against the back of the Steve’s neck, and Steve’s breathing begins to slowly even out, every few breaths punctuated with a tiny cough.

“Yeah?” Billy says.“I think I’m sick,” Steve says.

“No shit,” Billy says. “How’re you feeling now?”

“Um,” Steve says. “Okay. I think. Your mom’s weird poison thing is kind of working.”

“You want me to go?” Billy asks. “You should get some sleep.”

“I can sleep with you here,” Steve says.

Billy listens to the muffled sound of the television downstairs, thinks of the distance between himself and Max and Neil, feels the comforting weight and Steve settled sleepily in his lap and says, “Then I guess I’m staying.”

#harringrove #harringrove fic #stranger things fic #st fanfic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #lex writes fics #anon #answered #sorry this took so long!!

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omnyamaflowerz · 5 years

Text

Next Door

Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamics, Pure smut, some overstimulation, cursing. The reader is black so...yeah

You got this droning sound in your ears. Staring down at the empty pill bottle, you made a shocking realization. Whines left your mouth as you tossed the container into the trashcan. Your heat was on and you were out of suppressants. You stood at your sink, already slick from a wet dream and your body temperature slightly elevated. “Fuck.” you said as you leaned over and pressed your lips together. It was 3 a.m. and you needed something to ease your tensions. You turned on your shower and pulled the lavender soap from your cabinet.

You tried washing yourself and letting the aroma calm you but, touching yourself only made it worse. Each rub across your breasts made you even more turned on. You had no idea why or how, but you began to draw circles on your clit. You moaned as the warm shower water cascading over you as did pleasure.

You braced yourself against the wall as you worked yourself. You wanted someone to rut inside you. You wanted to be filled to your brim. Overflow until you were blind. Your nails scratched against the walls of your shower as you came to your climax. You screamed and slid down the wall. You took deep breaths but it did nothing for you. You smacked your lips, moving the dial of your shower to the cold setting.

You were amazed in the morning that you were able to sleep. But you still had to another three days to make it through this. You were surfing your laptop waiting on your delivered breakfast, looking for a new doctor since you moved especially one that would prescribe more medicine ASAP.

You heard male voices outside your door. The grip on your pen tightened. Your jaw clenched as you held your legs closed. You were hit with more intense smells. All of them, harsh and musky. You pulled the blanket from behind you and pushed it to your nose trying to focus on the scent of it but, their scents still crept to your nose. The voices were deep and enticing on their own. Why won’t they just go away? Who was across the way anyway? That apartment was empty and had been months before you even moved in. You almost wanted to cry at the scents. You felt feverish all over again. You scrambled to turn your fan on and point it towards you. The cool air coming over you. You moved your laptop and slid down on the couch. Your nails scratching into the fabric as you bit your lip and moaned.

Some of the scents began to fade away. You could hear goodbyes and faded laughter. However, there was still...that scent. It was heavy and dark. It hit your nose and drove into you, like an 18-wheeler. You had half a mind to crawl to the door and let whoever it was piledrive you into your wood floor. There was a knock at the door. Had he smelled you too? You padded to the door nervously. You didn’t think to look through the peephole. You unlocked it and opened it.

“Hi! I have your breakfast! Thanks for ordering with us.” the sweet girl said. Clearly, she had to have been on suppressants with how chipper she was. It almost pissed you off, the genuine, cute smile on her face. You grabbed your large brown bag from her and started to hand her the tip. You could barely focus with the hard leather smell. You coughed to distract her and make it seem like you just had bad allergies. You struggled to will yourself to function. Your muscles began to ache and your brain was rattling. You clenched your thighs as you signed for the receipt. Until you were beckoned to look past her. Your nostrils burning as the scent was at it’s strongest at that moment.

You shuddered at the sheer sight of him. With him, right there in front of you, his scent was all you could think about. And him. God, he was beautiful. Tall, muscular, brawny shoulders. It was apparent he was staring at you. His gaze was dangerous. His nostrils flared, he had fully engulfed you. His fist clenched. His skin seemed to turn red, his green eyes darkened.

“Ma’am?” the woman in front of you asked. You tossed the clipboard at her and retreated back and shut the door as he began to step forward. You struggled to the island of your kitchen before you dropped your breakfast. You gripped the countertop, reeling. The room almost seemed to spin as the scent was still so stuck in your head. Your knees almost buckled at the thought of him, plowing into you. No doubt a puddle in your panties.

You covered your nose with your hands as if that would really stop the scent from driving you mad. You fought the idea of going back to the door and dropping your dress for the man that was now your neighbor. You turned on your diffuser, hoping whatever oil was in it would help.

Florian tried focusing on putting things away. He had boxes to get through. He wanted to take care of setting up part of his place at least but, that sweet smell. He rolled his head around, cracking his neck as he could still smell you even through the walls. He bit his lip. He had never smelled anyone like you before. He had been so clouded earlier, but once you presented yourself and all he could do was take you in. Florian gripped the glass plate. The thoughts that ran through his head would make anyone feel dirty. However, he was imagining how you tasted. If your voice would get high pitched when he’d slide into you. He saw how nice and kept your nails looked. No doubt you’d mark up his back and chest. He winced as he could almost feel you, melting around him. Your body submitting to him and he’d fill you with every once of him. Florian was ripped from his fantasy as his grip on the porcelain plate shattered it.

“Damn it.” he grunted. He rushed to pick up the shards, careful not to cut himself. He felt himself aching in his pants as he tried gathering the pieces. Florian thought about how beautiful your skin looked. The rich deep brown that probably shined in the sunlight. Your thick lips had to taste as sweet as you smelled. He remained kneeling on the floor gathering himself. Florian huffed, your scent driving him insane. He had never smelled anyone like you. No one had sent him into a rut this great. To be fair, he hadn’t actually been sent into a rut in a long time but, this was different. One whiff of you and he was coming undone.

You began to writhe in the bedroom of your apartment. Not like, pinning yourself to the wall would get you further from his scent. You drenched the cloth in something fragrant, something that was made to calm the nerves but, it wasn’t working. Your knees locked as you felt yourself gushing. You needed relief. Desperately yanking your own panties from under your dress, you dug into your drawer for vibrators and toys. You laid back on your chair, legs spread. You fumbled, struggling to turn your favorite toy on. You tossed the towel as you took the lengthy toy, pushing it against you, positioning it on your nub.

“Yes.” you harped. You moaned as you angled it again, letting one part of it plunge into you and the smaller head resting on your clit. You grabbed your own breast, moaning as you dragged yourself to an orgasm. You felt feverish, a sweat breaking out over you. You began to slump in your chair.

Florian growled. Your scent intensified, filling his nostrils. His muscles became tense and he felt hot. He paced back and forth in the empty living room. Each breath or sniff had you all in it. Each time he moved, the fabric of his clothes that glided across him felt like torture. The movement didn’t quell his ailment, it only made it worse. Florian needed a more personal touch.

Suddenly, something struck him. There was something else. His head lifted to the ceiling, his nose itching and his skin practically vibrating. He looked at the wall as if he could see you through it.

You grasped your own thick curls as the ball in your core seemed to tighten. There was a loud banging on your door. Your eyes snapped open as you pulled the vibrator out of you. He was closer. You shuddered as you got up from your seat, your arousal squishing as you took small steps. You pulled your dress down as you got closer to the door. The leather scent slapped you in the face and beckoned you to open the door. There was another loud knock, almost as if he was beating against the door. Needy, just like you were.

“Hello?” you said, your voice shaking.

“My name is Florian...I just moved in across the way.” he said. You clocked the thick German accent and it made you want him even more. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” you spoke.

“Y/N.” Florian repeated as if it was the verse of a song. He licked his lips, now having your name to bounce around in his head.

Florian bounced on his feet, eager and anxious. His jaw was locked and it was like he had been standing there for eternity. He kept his hands in his pockets to stop him from grabbing the knob and forcing it open himself.

Neither of you knew what to say. You stood there, drowning in each other’s scents. Both of you torturing yourself with your piece of wood between you. You yearned more, squeezing your legs together. Your heat was at it’s absolute worse right now. He was just beyond the door. This could be your chance. His scent was driving you crazy. Your skin felt like static. You balled your hands into fists, trying to show restraint but, you knew he’d feel good inside of you.

“Why don’t you open the door?” he said. His voice just as deep and as strong as his scent. Your skin itched and the room began to spin. Your muscles reacted on their own at the demand. You unlocked the door and before you could pull it open, you felt a force push against you.

Florian pushed his way in, causing you to stumble back. In a swift movement, he shut the door, locked it, and pulled you close. He took a long sniff of you. The sweet cinnamon-like smell. He let out a low growl as he dragged his nose across the crook of her neck and to your shoulder. He grabbed you by your neck, forcing you into a kiss. You knees practically buckled, but his arm around your waist kept you upright. His tongue battling with yours. You grabbed fistfuls of shirt, moaning. Your legs gave more, forcing him to hold you up. His right hand left your neck, grabbing the back of your thigh and your ass cheek. You moaned, struggling as he kept you against him and groped you. “No panties, huh? You’ve been really needing a fucking.” His arm and fingers extended, finding your dripping entrance. He dipped into you with two fingers making you moan. However, you knew it wouldn’t be enough, you still enjoyed it. You yelped as you began to bend back at his weight. You buried your face into his neck with your cheeks warm with embarrassment and shuddering.

You gasped as he forced you further into the room. You pulled away to push against him, but he grabbed your wrists. Not before licking his fingers clean of you. Your back met your couch, your legs falling open as he got on top of you. He licked along your collarbone as he gripped your wrists, holding you down. You mewled under him as you twisted. Florian grabbed the backs of your knees, spreading you for him. Your arousal was apparent as it had spread over your lips and part of your thighs.

Florian didn’t waste time, plunging his tongue into you. You cried out as you tried to turn. Florian held you in place, his nails digging into your thighs but, it was more pleasurable than painful. His tongue lapped at your folds, wildly. Like he was starved and seeking to be fed. “You taste just as good as you smell.” he huffed. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

You arched your back as your clit was assaulted. Your toes pointed as you screamed, the crown of your head, pressing into the small pillow. Your core tightened and you were soon to erupt. You clenched whatever you could grab as you started to pull away from him. He yanked you back, a furious look in his eyes. “You don’t get to run away.” Florian’s fingers plunged into you, feeling around your walls as he lapped at your nub. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came. Your breath got caught in your throat, your voice not even projecting. Florian kept his tongue to you as you tried to pull away. Your hips bucked as you were overwhelmed. “Please! Okay! Okay!”

Florian pulled away from you, licking his lips and savoring every drop of you that may have been stuck to him. You looked up at him, needing him to make another move. You met him halfway for a kiss. You savored the taste that remained of you. His tongue slipped into your mouth again, immediately battling for control. Control of which you had already given him. You were yanked up and put over his shoulder. He carted you like dead weight to your bedroom. You yelped as you were thrown on the bed. Florian toed his shoes off as he watched you. You throbbed more as you know you’d get what was going to cure you. Florian took off his shirt and undid his pants, letting them sit on his hips.

Florian collapsed back on top of you, kissing you and biting on your lip. His hands gripped your breasts. You moaned as they felt so sensitive. He huffed as he ripped the fabric of your dress, forcing the spaghetti straps down your arms and ripping your strapless bra. He licked along your nipples and kissed tenderly along your breasts. He fondled your other breast, pinching your nipples and teasing you.

“Fuck.” you moaned. Florian moved to the other breast. You were sure there would be bruises on your breasts and you were okay with that. Florian marveled at his work, leaving marks on you.

Florian kissed your lips again, taking a huge whiff of your scent. He pushed down his briefs and his jeans. You felt his member tap against you. Your dress had pooled at your waist as Florian stood up, placing a hand on your neck. You kept your legs open, staring at him. He was a nice length, extremely girthy and veiny. His tip a bright pink and dripping precum. He positioned one hand by your head and held his member with the other. You grabbed onto his shoulders, as his tip went in first. You moaned as you settled into your mattress. However, the peace lasted for a short moment as he forced the rest of his length inside you.

“Ah!” you screamed. He didn’t even start slow. Your pussy was being assaulted and you were enjoying it. Florian pressed against you, his arms underneath your shoulders as he gripped the sheets. His hips plowed into you and he grunted in your ear.

“Damn it.” he groaned.

“Yes! Yes, yes!” you cried. Your legs wrapped around him as you submitted to this. Finally, your body was about to get the relief it needed. Florian kept his chin to the crook of your neck. Your scent and the moisture around him was driving him more. He licked along your neck, priming you. His strokes became rougher, more erratic.

“Florian!” you moaned.

“I know, baby. It’s coming.” he groaned. You tightened around him. You tried to think to prolong your orgasm, to resist. However, you became weaker with each thrust. You almost felt ashamed of yourself as you were about to give in so easily. Your nails scratched along his shoulders but Florian only enjoyed the pain.

The pads of your toes, planting into his skin. Your muscles tightened with each time your hips met. You contracted around him, squeezing him tight. “Fuck.” he grunted. He began to twitch inside you and knew he didn’t have long. However, you started to arch and cry. He felt you release on him, engulfing him in your warm, wet mound. You lost all rhyme and reason and screamed through your orgasm and with Florian still pumping inside you, you were practically incoherent. Florian lifted off you as his head, lifted to the ceiling and he let out a loud growl through clenched teeth, releasing inside you. At the last thrust, he remained inside you, filling you with his seed.

You both were still, catching your breath and letting the sweat drip and roll off of you. You squeezed your breasts, your body being relieved slowly of the previous symptoms. You wanted to speak but, Florian started to turn you over. Your legs were weak but, somehow once he placed you on your knees, you stayed there. You still felt him inside you and weren’t sure you could take him again. However, your body was telling you otherwise.

Florian leaned down over you, his nose buried in your mess of curls. Past the jojoba fragance, he still got that cinnamon scent. You heard the jingle of his belt buckle and a light thud coming from your floor. Now stripped completely, his hands gripped your waist as he slowly started to move. You let out a cry as you gripped the sheets. You let out a high pitched whine as you lifted out of the arch in your back.

“Uh-uh.” Florian said. You sighed, arching yourself against to meet him. You felt like he was going further into you. Your body was on fire but, instead of pain, it was pleasure like you had never known. Every thrust and inch of him was lifting you to heaven and dragging you back to earth.

“Florian.” you moaned. His response was a series of hard thrusts that rocked your bed. Your cries made him slam into you more. Florian’s thumbs dug into the small of your back. You twisted your head to the side as you tried to look back at him. Florian looked rabid as he pushed his hips into you. Your legs began to shake as your toes curled, pushing into the mattress. You couldn’t help it anymore.

Florian’s movements became more messy, less coordinated. He began to falter as he twitched inside you again. He became more vocal. His voice filling the room and the only thing you could hear. Again, you released. Your screams getting muffled in the mattress. Florian filled you again as he collapsed on top you. Your position lost and both of you, exhausted. Florian’s hand gripped your hip as if touching you was the only thing that was keeping him anchored.

You spread yourself underneath him, letting your arms reach out and your knees to face the headboard. Florian laid at your side, holding you. Having pulled out and as comfortable he could get, his eyes were fixed on the crook of your neck. The beads of sweat that coated the side of your face and neck called him. He shuttered as his teeth ached. He huffed in your ear, almost sounding hungry. His sight became focused. Part of him was still contemplating but, the other part had already claimed you as his, especially since he has pumped his seed into you twice. As you laid there seemingly giving in to this short rest, he wasn’t ready to let this end. His nails scratched into you, making you jump. You twisted back to look at him until he sat up.

“Stay on your side.” he said.

You followed his command, remaining on your side. He gripped the wet fabric of your torn dress that you both had truly forgotten about. You heard it rip and pop more as he pulled down your waist and legs. Florian lifted your leg as he kneeled in front of you. His eyes fixated on the mixture of you and him, leaking out. He scanned your body. Now, he had to marvel at the masterpiece that laid in front of him. He wasn’t going to waste this time. He leaned back over, kissing you. You moaned, the fire inside you reawakening with his touch. Florian pulled away, holding your leg up and to his torso. You looked over and saw his member, half hard. Even still, it was intimidating.

Florian stroked it a bit and rubbed this tip against your wet slit. A mixture of you and him was spread around. You winced a little as he slid in. You gasped as your first instinct was to turn over. His large hand clamped down on your hip as he held you in place. You threw your head back as he rolled his hip into you at first, slow and tender. You gave out small sighs and moans as you gripped the sheets. The stretch in your hip added to the resistance as you wanted to last longer this time. However, your already tender pussy was at Florian’s mercy. One hand held her knee to his chest and the other rested on your lower stomach. His hips moved faster into you.

“Florian.” you harped. “This feels so good.”

“You like it?” he huffed.

“Yes. Keep going. Don’t stop.” you said. He looked at you, eyes clouded in lust and euphoria on your face. Florian leaned over and massaged your breast. He was hypnotized by the way it jiggled and bounced. He licked his lips, watching you. Your toes flexed as you through your head back. You bit your lip, muffling your moans and allowing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Your body was singing with joy as his pelvis connected with yours every time. Florian twitched inside you, his nails pushing into your skin. You tightened around him, whining as the pressure was becoming too great. Your orgasm hit you like an eruption. You screamed as you placed a hand on Florian’s torso. “Fuck! Okay! Okay!” you cried as you pushed away from him.

Florian grabbed your hand, yanking you forward. Your body was now at an angle and you were trapped in front of him as he fucked into you, chasing his release. You cried into the sheets as your entrance throbbed, aching at the amount of sweet torture you were going through. “Florian” you cried, now clawing at his waist.

“Fuck!” he hissed as he shot into you. He remained still before dropping your leg and falling adjacent to you. You both laid there breathless. You squeezed your legs together, riding out your high, head hanging off the bed. Florian quickly collected himself, crawling on top of you. You moaned as he brought you into a kiss. It was passionate and loving.

Your legs wrapped around him again. His hand smoothed your curls from your face. He moved, kissing your chin and down your neck. You scooted down, placing yourself more on the mattress. Florian sniffed you again. He could smell himself on you now. A perfect mix. This alone was proving what he needed to know. Florian jumped when he felt your soft hand wrap around his member. You stroked, feeling it stiffen in his hands. Florian grunted above you. He dropped, dipping his nose back onto your collarbone.

You gasped as in one swift movement Florian had brought you up. You were in his lap, legs still around him. He trapped you in another deep kiss. His hands traveled down to your ass, lifting you up. You held his dick in position with your interest. Florian brought you down on him. You moaned in his mouth. Florian let you sit there, pulling on your lip. Your hands resting on his broad shoulders.

Florian moved you against him. You angled your hips for him, his wide member grazing your g-spot each time. You wrapped your arms around his thick neck, letting him rest in your breasts. He craned his head to suck on your breast as you bounced on him. You scratched along his shoulders, huffing as you couldn’t even control your own body. Florian was doing all the work, pushing you up and bringing you back down. With each slap of skin, you yelped and whined.

Florian buried himself in you as much as he could. He grunted as you engulfed him. Your walls squeezed and released him at a pace that was sure to make him finish soon. Your head flew back. You were so delirious that he was the only thing you felt. You had no idea what time it was and you couldn’t even really remember how you ended up like this. The only thing that matter was Florian was about to be the cause of whatever number climax that was coming. Now, instead off bouncing him. he was forcing you to work your hips, rolling into him and it felt even better.

Florian’s eye twitched. He shook as his orgasm neared. His grunts got loud again. You matched his volume. You each had the other’s name on your lips. Florian pushed you off to look at you. You were glistening and glowing at the same time. His brows furrowed as you jerked.

“I’m about to come.” you cried. Tears running down your cheeks. Florian pulled you back up, licking your face and kissing along your neck. It was that spot again. He flattened his tongue, brushing over your skin like he was preparing you. In reality, he was. He waited until you gritted your teeth and let out a cry. He opened his mouth and with a snarl, bit into you. You gasping, jumping forward with almost enough force to push both of you forward. It wasn’t just your orgasm that had rippled through your body. You got this new feeling and your pleasure only added to it. Florian lifted you up as he shot into you. You both fell still again. Coming down from your highs, your neck ached more so than the rest of your body. Florian fell over like a tree falling in the woods.

Neither of you spoke. Just the sounds of your breath and the occasional bed creak when one of you tried to move. You were still wrapped around Florian. His fingers trailed up and down your spine. Your eyes closed, you started to drift off from the exhaustion. You didn’t even become alert when Florian managed to break from you and drag the large throw blanket at the end of your bed and drape it over the both of you. The last thing you felt was Florian’s fingers graze over where he bit you and soon slumber consumed you.

You stirred, hours later. It was dark outside and rain on your windows. You sniffled, easing out of bed. Your body was sore causing you to waddle to your bathroom. You cut the light on the find your hair a mess, eyes puffy, bruises littering your neck and breasts and of course, the mark that now bound you to Florian. You nearly jumped when his arms snaked around your waist. You moaned as his lips kissed along your shoulder.

After the quick shower, you and Florian were intertwined on your couch. He made a quick run to his apartment and came back in a wife beater and joggers. Him holding you close to him felt right. You thought about how this all changed so quickly. You were expecting the next few days to be a struggle. Then, all it took was for the guy next door to come over and change that. You buried your nose in his chest, the harsh leather smell hitting your nose. Florian chuckled because he knew what you were doing. He leaned in, putting his nose in your still drying hair. He liked the smell of your leave-in conditioner with your cinnamon scent. He licked his lips at how delicious you smelled, almost ready to ravage you again.

Your shoulder itched. You winced going to reach for it. Florian shifted watching you.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” you said.

“You hungry, baby?” Florian asked. The tenderness of his voice was welcome. It made you smile. You chuckled.

“I know a pizza spot that should still be open. Is that okay?” you said, looking up at him.

Florian smiled as he sat up with you still on his chest. “I love pizza.”

#florian munteanu fic #a/b/o #florian munteanu x you #florian munteanu x black reader

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bigsnzstanacct · 4 years

Text

Richie Robbins

Here’s my first, totally unfinished sneezefic. It’s all about loud sneezes, I haven’t edited it at all and tbh I found it on some random blog that had clearly grabbed stories from the forum bc I didn’t want to dig through all my old computer backups so ya know if it’s screwed up it’s not my fault.

As passionately as he desired to, he knew he wouldn't be able to evade it. It would come, as so many times before: unavoidable, uncontrollable, unstoppable. He closed his eyes, tilted back his head, let the itch like fire at the edges of his nostrils expand to set his whole nose ablaze with a tickle so strong, only a monstrous explosion could expel it. And monstrous explosions were his stock-in-trade.

"hehh...hehh...HEISSSHOOO!" he exploded. His stunned professor stopped her lecture, as the noise rang out through the huge lecture hall, waking up quite a few drowsy (hungover?) students. Flummoxed, she lost her place in her notes, as the boy sitting next to him, a jock, last name Stevens... first name he couldn't remember, muttered, "Nice one, Robbins. You planning to blow any houses down any time soon?"

Richard Robbins waited a moment before he replied, hoping to make sure the one great sneeze had been enough to expel the full magnitude of the tickly sensation in his nostrils. He sniffed before opening his mouth to reply, which was, as always, a huge mistake.

"Yeah, Ste-st... stevens... I... hah... I...iiegh...ieghhh..ihhh...ihhh..." He thought for a moment he'd gotten it under control, rushing a firm index finger to his quivering nostrils, but it was too little, too late: "Y-yeahhhh... ahhhKESHHHHHuuuhh. HEYY-SHEEUUUUEY!" Another of his roaring sneezes rang out through the room, again startling Doctor Renyolds, who had just managed to get herself composed enough to begin lecturing again. And the sneeze came with a brother, a great screaming affair which appeared to have erupted from the very depths of Richie's being, and, luckily enough, had carried with it sufficient force to finally blast out whatever was causing the terrible tickle in his nose.

"My!" Doctor Reynold's voice came, after only a few seconds, "Whoever has been exploding in my has thoroughly put me off my lecture. Were we speaking about Hamlet or 'The Waste Land'?"

Richie sank in his chair. He had hoped to avoid this, this time. All throughout high school he had been known as the school's sneeze factory, variously going by nicknames from Sneezy to Big Bad Wolf to Johnny Tsunami--that particular psudonym coming from a quite unfunny teacher--but in college, he had hoped to avoid being identified primarily by his nose.

Of course, when you had a nose as big as Richie's, it was rather difficult not to notice. It was nearly always the first thing people noticed about Richie, either because he was busy sneezing or because its moderately thin but hugely protruding shape, rather like a right triangle seen in profile, was the most commanding thing about his face. And his nostrils: they were great, wide, massive things, sucking up irritants with an unholy frequency, tickling with an unthinkable burning fury, exploding with almost unimaginable, messy force. There were times when he felt his older brothers' insistence upon calling his nose Mount Vesuvius was not wholly inaccurate.

Not that any of the men in Richie's family had room to complain about his sneezes. While Richie may have gotten a double portion, this was surely a family curse: when the six Ritchie men--three older siblings: Tristan, Adrian, and Sebastian, Richie himself, his little brother Max, and his father--were united in colds and allergies, it was a wonder Richie's mother hadn't gone deaf. All six of them complained of unusually strong itches that developed deep within their nostrils, which could only be expelled by their characteristically loud sneezes. Stifling or containing the sneezes would never do; it would only intensify the tickle--and the resulting sneezes--by several orders of magnitude.

No, there was little Richie could do in such a situation besides let himself sneeze and hope that no one would notice. Which, thus far, had never happened.

"Hey, Robbins," the jock queried, "should I send out the storm warning to little pigs?"

After class, Richie walked out onto the campus, on the way to his dorm room. He was hit full in the face by the bright September sun, and by his furious nasal tickling.

"Nodda... hiihhh... nodahhh... again... HEEEYY-SHEEUU! HISSHHH! ehh... ehhhSHIIEUUU!" He let the sneezes erupt into the open air, giving them free reign to bend him in half, three times, each sneeze bigger and louder than the previous, though, for Richie, they were comparatively light, more like minor aftershocks than the sneeze-quake itself. He wished these would've hit in the lecture hall, rather than the nuclear blasts he had actually let out.

"Well, you can't always get what you want..." Richie muttered to himself.

"But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you just might find...!" Sing-shouted Richie's best friend, Adam, who had, as ever, appeared behind him.

"How do you do that?" Richie asked, "Do you stalk men unawares in the night by custom? I'm beginning to think you're practicing to be Batman."

"Richie," Adam paused to say, mock-serious, "I am Batman. And even if I wasn't, I'd be able to locate those sneezes from halfway across the campus," laughed Adam. "But anyway, what's up?"

"Well, I exploded in the middle of my Poetry and Drama class, and I'm pretty sure Professor Reynolds hates me, but besides that, not much."

"Old Vesuvius come back to life? Well, no shock there. No offense dude, but your nose has been permanently set to stun since high school."

"Yeah, I've noticihhh... ihhhh... ihhyahhhhhhhAAESSHUUU!"

The pair began walking down the cobblestone path of the university, presumably towards the dorm rooms, then cut through the quad, where, of course, the flowers begot a huge tickle in Richie's nose. "Oh! W-waaahhh... ahhh..." He tried to get the tickle under control long enough to utter the phrase "watch out," but Adam had long since learned to gage when Richie was about to embark upon one of his voyages to a Byzantium of Richter-scale rocking sneezes, and had promptly set his fingers in his ears, got down on his knees, and, in a grand military manner, announced, "Cannons are aimed! Target has been acquired! Fire at will! Fire at will!!"

The fact that he had never, frankly, fired at will, passed quickly through Richie's mind before the sneeze washed over him, washing away all thoughts other than the sneezes, and all quiet in the quad: "yyeeaaaaaaHHHCHOOOOOOOSSSHHH"

Several stunned students turned around to locate the source of the booming noise, and Adam thought that he heard a "wow," somewhere in the distance. A few birds, it seemed, started from the trees. Adam wasn't even entirely sure that he had imagined the swaying he thought he saw in a few of the trees. There was no doubt about it: Richie could sneeze. Ever since they met in freshman year of high school, Adam had seen Richie's nose at the epicenter of a daily series of frightful detonations. This particular sneeze had been not only monstrously loud but torrentially wet, leading Adam to celebrate his decision to crouch at Richie's side; he did not want to get drenched, as he had been on more than one occasion. Ever since freshman year.

"Geez, Rich, you done?" Adam asked, after giving Richie a few seconds.

"SHEEEOOO!" Richie exploded, if possible, even louder.

"Guess not." he chuckled. After Richie (and Adam) felt sure that Richie's nose wasn't about to go nuclear again, Adam stood up, began walking, and quipped, "You know, I'm looking for a side-kick; before I swoop in and lock up the baddies, maybe I can get you to sneeze and blow 'em down!"

"Shut up, Adam." Richie joked, giving Adam a playful slap on the head, before the two rushed off trading barbs as they went.

—-

Richie reached the dormroom with comparatively few incidents, although he had to force himself more than once to obey his father’s favorite dictum: don’t stifle your sneezes. Don’t even try. Richie’d heard that particular sermon preached any number of times, along with his mother’s story: “When your father went on our first date, he tried to hold those things back, and when they finally came out”—“when she smothered her spaghetti in pepper,” his father would always interject—“I thought he was going to blow everything off the table! He sounded a little like you, actually, Richie.”

So, with his mother’s slightly nasally voice ever ringing in his ears, Richie forced himself to let out a series of noisy nasal explosions, in order to satiate his nose’s uncontrollable need for relief from its buzzing, burning, incredibly tickly itching sensations. Few people could imagine just how strong the tickles in Richie’s nose got; perhaps the only way to truly represent their magnitude was their own self-expression in his explosive sneezes. He felt fairly lucky that he'd only had to give in to three or four on his way back to the dorms, although the gaggle of women who had clearly bathed in perfume were less than joyous at the sudden, shocking explosion of elephantine nasal trumpeting which had suddenly erupted to their near right, and each had jumped at least a foot in the air, much to the amusement of Adam, who'd laughed almost as loudly as Richie had sneezed.

Adam and Richie had reached their dorm room, and were sitting about, not really doing anything, as college students are wont to do in lazy afternoons, after classes but before the dinner hours. Of course, they could have been studying, but who’d want to do that? Richie was busy plotting ways to avoid blasting the cafeteria during lunch (take an extra dose of Claritin, bring a handkerchief, and always avoid pepper like the plague), while Adam sat on the bed, debating with himself about whether or not to take a nap, when he felt a tickle invade his nose. Adam’s sneezes, while certainly not tiny, couldn’t compare in the slightest to Richie’s nasal artillery, and the “ihh… ihhhh…IT-CHEEOOooey” he released was nothing compared to a Richie sneeze.

But Adam’s nose wasn’t done yet; the tickle returned, the previous sneeze having done nothing to alleviate it, but rather seeming to have augmented it: “nyehhh… hih! hih! hehhh…” Adam’s nose vacillated on the edge of a relieving sneeze, its power building with every hitch of his breath, “nighiiee…hiegh… ighhhiee… iiiaaAAAAAHHH-CHOOO!” Adam sneezed, much harder than normal.

“Woah, buddy,” Richie murmured over his shoulder, “You really let that one go; you aiming to start a sneeze fight?”

“No, no, no, no,” Adam said, still feeling a bit lightheaded from the sneeze, which had taken more out of him than usual, “getting into a sneeze war with your nose is like bringing three sticks and a baseball bat to the Crimeahhhh… Crimeaaaaahhhh… Crimean... aayyYAH-SHEWWWESSH!” Yet another draining sneeze burst from Adam’s nose, this time with some considerable spray. “Yeesshhh,” Adam said, “that would would’ve drenched a tissue almost as bad as you would! I’m turning into a fire hose sneezer like y… you… you… Ah-CHOOeeeyyy!” Adam let out yet another sneeze, although this one was comparatively light, more in keeping with Adam’s usual sub-volcanic sneeze level.

Thus far, he’d been able to avoid it, having long since learned that if he was to ever do anything except sneeze, he’d have to suppress his sympathetic sneezing reaction. But ever since he’d been a teen, Richie’s nose had been envious of anyone who let out too many sneezes around him, and desired to experience such enormous relief as came with his hurricane-strength achooeys. Thus, he felt a slight tickle brewing when Adam had released his fourth sneeze, and when he heard Adam hitching up to a fifth—“ahhh… ahh… am… ah… am I ever gonaaaahhhh stahhh… stahhh… stop… ahhh…”—he feared his nose too, would begin to go into sneezy paroxysms.

“Adam, man, ah… ah… can you get a hold on those sneezes… my n-nose is starting to tickle too… hoohhhh… ohhhh…”

Richie struggled to get a grip on the still relatively slight tickle that had invaded his nose, as Adam did his best to hold back his sneezy nose from the delightfully relieving fifth sneeze that he knew was on its way. “ahhhh… ahhhh… I-I dunno… ohhhh ahhh… hah… It ruhhhh… ruhhhheaalllly tickles. Ahhhhh… AHHHH… AYYY-CHEOOOSHH!” He let out another sneeze, the strongest, wettest, and most forceful of the bunch, although not spectacularly loud.

But anyone waiting for a noisy nose would have little time to wait. Adam’s fifth and final sneeze had sent Richie’s sympathetic tickles into overdrive, and with almost no buildup, he reared his head back, nostrils flaring wildly like a bucking horse, and bellowed out an enormous, “CCHHHHEEEOOOOOOOO!” Followed by two more, slightly less loud but torrentially wet, “PLESSHEWEY! IT-CHEWWW!” Each sneeze was a spectacularly loud, messy affair, though they were commensurate to Richie’s normal sneeze volume, which, of course, approached the ear-splitting at close ranges. It was more than enough, Richie realized sheepishly, to sound throughout the entire dorm room floor, and maybe the floors above and below. He remembered to make a mental note to avoid staying up late nights—a late night tickle could easily turn peaceful dorm-mates into irate potential tormentors, irritated by being woken by Richie’s cannon-like sneeze. He realized, too, that he might’ve shaken people from any number of midday naps.

When Richie’s series of explosions were done, an affair which sent Richie’s body completely out of control, rearing back and exploding forward with abandon, his entire body at the mercy of his monstrously powerful lungs, mouth, and most of all, nose, Adam couldn’t resist making a quip. “See why I don’t want to get in a sneezing fight with you?”

“Yeah, I know. I hate those sympathetic tickles. Gotta keep that under control,” Richie said, as much to chide his nose as anything else.

“Under control? Your nose? That’s like keeping a bull in a china shop from disturbing a single piece of porcelain. Really wish I could find out why I was sneezin’ though. Those were pretty big for me, though for you it’d be like taking an earthshaking thunderstorm and replacing it with a light, pleasant summer rain…” Adam laughed, but paused when his joking was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Richie shouted, fearing that it was an irate neightbor, awoken from a nap. This had been one of his many fears about college; each of his older brothers had brought home several stories of how they had woken up between one and several fellow dorm-mates, roommates and apartment neighbors (not that the Robbins boys needed to be in the same building with a person to make themselves known by their noses; the family’s suburban neighbors had revealed on several occasions that someone, usually Richie, had been audible through the windows). Tristan, the oldest, who had, after Richie, the second most Vesuvial nose in the family, once told the story of how he had woken up, very literally, his entire dorm with a series of cold-inspired sneezes, and how only the awesomely pathetic sight of his sickly state, ensconced as he was in blankets and almost covered in used tissues and hankies, had prevented him from receiving one of his dormmates infamously cruel practical jokes.

Richie hoped to avoid such a situation, and so it was with apprehension (and desperate attempts to remember his self-defense classes) that he opened the door.

“Hey, dude!” Said the surprisingly pleasant and excited looking young man at the door, “was that a sneeze, or did somebody set of a nuke in the room next to mine?”

Relieved as Richie was by the friendliness of the visitor, Adam slightly sluggishly slid out of bed, laughing as he did, “That’s my man here, Richie, the Nose extraordinaire, the loudest sneeze in the west, superman of sneezes, the titan of ticklish nostrils, Sir Vesuvius himself, the leaf-blower…”

“Richard, just Richard is my name.” Richie cut in, eager to cut Adam off before he got to the detested “Johnnie Tsunami” epithet.

“Well, Richard-just-Richard, I had to come over here to see if that nose actually just came out of a person!”

“Sorry, I can’t help it…” Richie said, suddenly blushing slightly, “I hope I didn’t wake you or anything…”

“Nah. I wasn’t doing anything. But really, you just sneezed that loud? You got some kinda supernose or somethin’?”

“Well, it’s not exactly thin, as you can see,” Adam began, with a professorial air, “and the protruding shape and large nostrils provide some explanation as to its loud-speaker like qualities…”

“It’s just been that way since I was a kid,” sighed Richie, mildly put off by the awkward conversation.

“Dude, I haven’t heard a sneeze that loud since, like, ever, probably. Although my dad sets off some real firecrackers back at home… I didn’t think I’d hear anything like that for another few months. Kinda reminds me of home, actually.”

“Well, anytime you get homesick, just give us a ring and bring the pepper, though you might wanna bring some earplugs actually…”

“Adam. Geez, do you ever run out,” Richie inquired, with an irritated air.

“Not really.” Adam replied straightforwardly, "I'm a joke machine. And a love machine. Just FYI, let the ladies know..."

“Well,” the visitor declared, “Adam, Richie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jerry.” He stuck his hand out, and Richie shook it forcefully, though he found his grasp met with a vice shaking like a centrifuge.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Richie said, wincing slightly from the handshake.

“Hey, dude, we’re headed to lunch soon, wanna come?”Adam asked cheerfully.

“Yeah, totally. I was actually kinda hoping to avoid eating lunch alone,” Jerry confessed, “though I don’t know how you get through lunch, dude. Better warn ‘em: hide the pepper!”

That’s a joke I haven’t heard before Richie thought to himself. But, though not original in his jokes, this new acquaintance wasn’t half-bad, and was certainly an improvement upont the angry neighbor Richie’d feared he’d encounter. And speaking of curing homesickness…

“Are you wearing co-cologne… cologne… ehhhhh… ehhhhhhh… EHHHHHSSSSHOOOO!” Richie erupted another characteristically noisy sneeze, which, at unusually close range, prompted both Jerry and Adam to dramatically cover their ears to avoid the full blast of Richie’s nasal explosion, which was easily a nine on the Richter scale, probably a ten.

“Geez, man, I thought they were loud through the wall!” Jerry said, awestruck.

“Richie’s nose? Man, you haven’t seen anything yet. He’ll blow the paint off the walls before we graduate,” Adam joked, yet again.

“I think I might go ahead and take a shower,” Jerry responded, “I’ll meet you guys in about thirty minutes, alright?”

“Sounds great!” Adam said.

Richie would’ve replied, but Jerry’s cologne hadn’t yet finished with Richie’s surpassingly tickly and tickle-able nose. “hahhhh… HAHHHHH…HEHSHOOOH!” Richie erupted again, thanking his lucky nasal stars that his nose had seen fit, for once, to not let out a great big wet one while he was right in someone’s face. He opened his mouth to say, “nice to meet you,” but what came out was another, “TITCHEWWWEY! SHEWWWWWSH!” It was hugely, horribly wet, and in his zeal to avoid blasting his new compatiot, he had turned and, inadvertently, sprayed a great, big wet one into the face of his good friend Adam.

“Well… um… are you trying to tell me you don’t like my jokes, buddy?”

Now, getting sprayed by a sneeze was usually a messy affair, but getting sprayed by a Richie sneeze was pitched somewhere between “elephant sneeze” and “sprayed by a fire hose”. Adam was drenched, and Richie found himself reflecting yet again as to why he never, never attempted to use a pathetic tissue to hold up against the surpassing force of his all-powerful nasal eruptions, the tickly twin cannons of wind, wet, and sound that had taken up residence on his face, began full-strength operations in high school, and seemed to grow in power alone as their experience increased.

“Well, I think I’ll be taking a shower too.” Adam said, before promptly turning around, grabbing a towel and some clothes, and rushing to the bathroom, letting out an irrepressable, high-pitched, and surpassingly effete “EWWWWWW!” which sent Richie and Jerry into shaking convulsions of laughter.

—

After cleaning himself off from Richie’s hurricane-force discharge, Adam proceeded to the downstairs dining hall to meet both Richie and their new friend Jerry. Of course, he heard Richie before he saw him. “heh… heh… HAT-CHOOO!” It was a comparatively small one for his good friend Rich, but the noise still carried well out of the dining room and into the hallway. Adam often kidded Richie about his sneezes, but half the time he genuinely felt bad for the guy. After all, those massive eruptions that had punctuated almost his entire high school experience weren’t just occasional explosions, they were daily at the very least. Any number of things lit Richie’s sneezing fuse, setting off a chain reaction inside Richie’s nose that led inexorably to a blast of such volume and violence that people often inquired of Richie how such a loud noise could come out of a 45-year old 6’ 10’ two-hundred-thirty-pound ex-logger construction worker with a bad head cold, much less little old Richie Robbins. Every time he sneezed with people around, Richie would blush, shrug, and, Adam knew, mentally wish himself out of the room. It wasn’t easy having a semi-superpower—not that it’d do any good in a fight, Adam mused—for a sneeze. But it was life for poor Richie, and that was simply that.

For Adam’s part, he’d never been particularly bothered by his best friend’s outrageous a-choos. Maybe he just had ears of steel, but the volume didn’t bother him, and it did provide a decent shake-up during lulls in conversation. Heck, he’d been a regular vistor to the Robbins household, and that was an experience unto itself. Multiplying Richie’s sneezes with a father, three older brothers, and one younger made a ruckus that just didn’t make sense. If anyone needed proof that sneezes were hereditary, well, Adam knew where to bring them. He’d heard the same story from all six Richie men: it’s the tickles. The tickles, itches, tingles, and twinges that invaded the Robbins family sinuses were purportedly unbearable, like a thousand invisible brushes sweeping all the way up the nasal cavity. And the only way to get those brushes (temporarily) out was to let out a blast that could be heard across three counties (or at least a small suburban house… and a few of the adjacent ones.) Their sneezes came from their toes and then some. But the big sneezes were just the only way that they could relieve the incredible pressure and the tickle that built up in their large, protruding nostrils, swishing around their noses with an unimaginable irritation. The ones with long build-ups were the worst. He’d seen Tristan and Adrian, Sebastian and Max, even Mr. Robbins, staring up at lights, forcefully fanning under their noses, doing anything to tip the tickle out of the gate and onto the flight ramp, at which point a sneeze would shoot out from their nostrils of which any elephant would have been proud.

It was thoughts like this that preoccupied Adam as he sat down with Richie and Jerry, who were discussing the finer points of eruption-inspiring allergens.

“For my dad, is the dogs that are the worst, man, get him within ten feet of a dog, especially one of those great big shaggy things, and oh man… it’s time to break out the protective earmuffs, I’m tellin’ you…”

“Yeah, dogs get me bad too, but the cats… oh… waay… wait a second… I’b gonnahhhh… ahhh… HASHOOOEY!” Richie gasped out a “’nother… nothaaahhh” before bursting into a second tectonic shift of a sneeze, “YASSSHOOOOOO! Oh, I’m so sorry, that was a big one.”

“They’re always big ones, Rich!” Adam said as he sat down.

“Can’t argue with you there.” Richie sighed. While he often wished he could just get rid of his charateristic sneez-plosions, Richter rockers, or Richie Roars, as his nasal expulsions were variously called, Richie was grateful for friends that weren’t repulsed, shocked, or amazed by his sneezes, and he felt much less self-conscious about lettin’ it rip when Adam, or, as of today, Jerry, was around. Not that he had much (or any) choice.

“So, you two comparing notes?” asked Adam.

“Yeah,” Jerry said, “so far, we’ve mentioned flowers, pepper, animals…”

“Actually, most spices get me, red pepper worst of all.” Richie began, “In fact, the reason I sat down at this table is because it doesn’t even have a red pepper shaker, thank goodness. But I’ve blown back the fur and feathers on just about any pet you can imagine…”

They continued on talking like this, unaware that at the table just behind them, the very jock that had filled the standard role of Richie’s sneeze tormentor was subtly listening in on their conversation. Ashton Stevens was his name, and he, like Jerry, had also had a big sneezer at home. But he didn’t have such generous memories of his parents’ noisy noses. In fact, he had been driven nearly insane by his mother and father’s constant loud sneezes, which, unlike Richie’s, seemed put-on, fake, as if they both just wanted to announce to the world how noisily they could sneeze. The crowning moment had been that day, the day of senior prom… but Ashton tried not to think about it. For his part, he had rather dainty sneezes, somewhat at odds with his large and muscular build. He, of course, had never been plagued with allergies on the level of Richie’s, but he had gone through an allergic phase as a teen. During that time he constantly focused on controlling his sneezes, squelching them down until they were little more than a semi-audible, “chuh”. Richie’s gargantuan gale winds had brought him right back to that moment at the senior prom, and he secretly seethed inside every time Richie’s nose went out of control and spasmed with a silence-smashing sneeze. But he was formulating a plan, in the back of his mind, that would shame Richie into shutting up, as his parents never would.

Meanwhile, as Ashton Stevens seethed, Richie (predictably) sneezed. “yeaaaahhhh, ahhhh… aaaaahpppppSHEWWW! Uh, another one. I don’t know what’s making my nose so itchy!” The sneeze, honestly, had been the lightest one he’d let out in a while, only audible above speaking voices at the end, indicating a comparatively low-level irritation. Probably a stray flake of black pepper. While he reacted to pepper as much as anybody else, Richie had never had nearly as much of a problem with pepper as he did with dander, other spices, and the dreaded perfume and cologne.

“So,” Adam inquired, “what are you boys up to this evening. It’s Friday night, and ah… ah… HAT! CHOO!” Adam let out a neatly segregated sneeze, a firmly punctuated breath drawn in followed by a neat and tidy choo, which, although somewhat wet, was not extremely loud, as per the normal pattern of Adam’s sneeze. “Woah, I don’t know why I keep sneezing.”

“Yeah, come to think of it, neither do I,” Richie added, “do you think you’re allergic to something up here?”

“Nah, I’m as hardy as a bull, allergens can’t get me down. Try as they might, they cannot invade the fortress of my mighty nasal guard. Granted, they don’t have as big of a target on mehh… on mehhhh… me… as…. BAA-shewww!” Adam sneezed again, with a sound that sounded utterly fed-up with sneezing.

“Any chance you might be getting a cold?” Jerry inquired. Adam and Richie exchanged anxious looks. Each knew what the other was thinking: if Richie caught a cold, his sneezes, seemingly impossibly, would grow significantly in strength, volume, and mess.

“No,” Adam said, attempting to laugh away the possibility, “No way! The last time I had a cold was…”

“The camping trip in eleventh grade. And I promptly caught it and nearly blew down our tent on several different occasions.” Richie finished for him, “And I hope it’s not happening now,” he moaned, “because if you get sick, then I’ll get sick, and if I get sick…”

“Don’t worry, Rich!” Adam insisted, “I’m not getting sick! But so you don’t worry, I guess I’ll take some vitamins, and call it an early night, I guess…”

“No way, man!” Jerry interrupted, “we’ve barely been in college for a week. We’re goin’ out tonight. We’re going somewhere, and if you don’t like it, mister, too bad!”

Adam laughed. “Well, can’t argue with a command like that, sir. Where do we go?”

“There’s a nice bar nearby,” Richie offered.

“No, no, no, I mean a real club: loud music, sloppy drunks, and scantily-clad women.” Of course, at the mention of women, all three hormone-addled brains perked up instantly, and any reluctance at club-going was instantly erased.

And, Adam saw another perk:

“Plus, the club’s so loud, Richie, that it’s probably one of the few places on earth where your sneezes can’t carry. You know, places like construction sites… death metal concerts… one of my sister’s shouting—I mean singing recitals…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But that’s actually a good point, and the sneezes have actually been comparatively light...” but suddenly Richie’s eyes got a distant, faraway look. His nose scrunched up, and the itch exploded in his nostrils like a thousand buzzing tiny, invisible flies, sending his nostrils into a rampage of twitching, his upper lip, his entire face swishing and moving with the enormous need to sneeze that had burgeoned so suddenly in his nostrils. This was gearing up to be a real monster; his breath hitched, “hahhhh… hahhhh…,” his eyes bulged. He reached his hand up to try to scrub away the itch, although he knew it was useless. This was shaping up to be the biggest sneeze that had hit him all day… “hih! hih! ah! ah! ah! ooooh, it won’t come ou… outahhhh… ahhhhhh… ahahhhh… ahahhah…” the sneeze stuck for a moment, leaving Richie’s face in a mask of sneezy agony, the corners of his mouth turned firmly down, his eyes tearing and glancing upwards, searching for a light bright enough to send his brewing eruption into its final stages of detonation, his eyebrows severely arched. His watering eyes rapidly blinked for what seemed an eternity, before he gave his nose one more good sniff and gave in to the inevitable detonation: “hhhhaaAAA-AARRSCHOOOhhh! HAAA-HOOOOOSH-SHOOOOEY! Ahhh… igghiee… hah…" He hitched for just a few seconds before absolutely roaring out the thermonuclear explosion of his final sneeze: "RAAH-SCHOOOOOOOOHH!”

“Woah.” Said Adam and Jerry simultaneously.

The sneeze was so big, it left Richie panting a little after. It wasn’t just the biggest sneeze all day, it was the biggest set of sneezes he’d had in a month! Richie had rocked back and forth with each colossal sneeze, giving his tickly nose complete abandon. The sneezes took him over, and each was a nearly-shouted affair that was louder than most people can shout. Those sneezes seemed to come from his whole body, his nose being merely the epicenter of the eruption. He was completely out-of-control for each massive gusting sneeze, his whole frame shaking and swaying at the mercy of his king-sized schnoz and the unbearable itch that had taken three of Richie’s most powerful sneezes to expel. When he opened his eyes afterward, he was half-afraid that he’d blown the table away!

Adam and Jerry, prepared by experience, had covered their ears, but the rest of the dining hall… well, being unprepared, some had dropped forks, plates, and cups, most had stopped their conversations, and quite a few shocked “what was that?”s sounded around the room. Those had been big even for Richie, far too loud, in fact, for anyone to hear the near-simultaneous soft, tickly “chuhh! ch-hoooh! chuhh! ka-chuuhhh!” that had come from the next table over, soft barely-there puffs of air in comparison to Richie’s Kansas twister sized sneezes, which he swore would have been big enough to send Dorothy not only to Oz, but to the other said of Mars.

“Dude,” Adam said, as the dining room slowly went back to normal, after being rocked by Richie’s “You totally shouldn’t have jinxed it.”

“Ha-ha,” Richie said, not feeling exceptionally prepared for laughing after single handedly—or rather, single-nosedly”—overpowering an entire dining room full of noisy college students in volume. “Let’s just get out of here as quickly as possible. I don’t want another one of those to happen… and I think… there might still be the beginnings of a… ah…” Richie quickly clamped his hands over his nose, hoping that he might fight the tiny residual tickle back before it became another of room-rocker, or at least get outside into the open air to release the beast.

Adam, Richie, and Jerry hurried surreptitiously out of the dining room. At the table behind them, sat Ashton Stevens, face upturned, irritated tears forming in his eyes, but a smug smile on his face, nose twitching and jerking with otherwise imperceptible “chooh! chuh! ha-hushh!” sneezes, with a plate of spaghetti practically drenched in red pepper. His little “experiment” confirmed, he threw the plate away, which promptly cleared up his sneezes, and walked calmly out of the dining hall, but not before slyly sliding the red pepper shaker into his waiting pocket.

Richie had, of course, erupted again outside, although once out of the range of the red pepper flakes that were like gunpowder for Richie’s cannon-like nostrils, the sneezes hadn’t registered quite so high on the Richter Scale (“a minor aftershock!” Adam had quipped). But sneezes that huge left Richie concerned; could he be catching a cold? That would be disastrous. Besides feeling bad, he could hardly go to class, detonating another sneeze every few minutes, sneezes that would rock a three hundred person lecture hall and perhaps even send his papers flying down to the row below, sneezes that would throw even the most concentrated lecturer off of his or her game, sneezes that, in a smaller classroom, would probably disturb not only his own class, but all the classes on the floor! Of course, he’d had mega-sneezes like that before, and it didn’t always mean he was catching a cold, but if he was… well, he’d just take a lot of vitamin C that night. But going to bed early wasn’t an option. Richie, Jerry and Adam were going to a nearby club, Club Z, for a night on the town. After running back upstairs to change (again), the threesome left their dorm and headed towards Club Z, chatting all the while.

“So, Rich, how are classes going?” Adam asked, to get the conversation started.

“Oh, pretty good, when I’m not busy sneezing through them. Sebastian warned me that his sneezes tend to disrupt standard professorial activities, so I knew mine would probably blow out a few eardrums. Not that I’m not used to that sort of thing.”

“How about you, Jerry?”

“Oh, things are going well for me too. Chemistry is kicking my butt, but besides that I’m doing pretty well. That class is so boring! I almost wish that someone would come in there with a great big Richie-cane kinda sneeze. At least that way things wouldn’t be quite as boring!”

“Oh, you would have loved our high school then,” Adam cut in, “Almost every time I fell asleep in class, Richie’s nose would get an itch and once the nasal volcano got going, sleeping was not an option.”

“Whatever, Adam,” Richie said, blushing slightly at the extended discussion of his nasal… ahem, prowess, even among friends, “I didn’t even have a half of my classes with you.”

“Exactly.” Adam replied, smiling. *** Soon, Richie and company arrived at the club. However, they were still several feet away when the perfume started getting to Richie’s nose: “ah…. ahhhh… agghhha… igghhiiie… AAAA-CHOOOOH! heh… heh… AHHH-CHOOOOOH!” he sneezed, blasting out the tickly perfume smell as hard as he could. When Richie sneezed, his whole body was involved; in fact, Adam was surprised that Richie didn’t have a six-pack from all the forceful contractions of his stomach and chest as he roared out all that sneezy air at obscene velocities, and decibel levels.

“Bless ya, buddy. Are there some flowers around,” inquired Jerry.

“Na… no, nahhh.. ahhhhh WAAAAAASSSHOOOO! ARRRR-CHOOAAAYYYY!” Richie screamed out each sneeze. While not as loud as the true Richie-canes of the dining hall, these sneezes produced more than enough volume to echo loudly off of the nearby buildings and turn quite a few heads. Richie was quite afraid that an irate head would poke out of one of the windows of the high-rise apartment buildings on the street to demand that he achieve the impossible feat of quieting down his great lion’s roar of a sneeze. He’d been asked by more than one teacher (and moviegoer, and theater patron, and restaurant waiter, and even, on one notorious occasion, a few patrons at just the sort of rock concerts that Adam had supposed would be loud enough to drown out Richie’s roars, but then again, not only were all the people there drenched in cologne and perfume, but Richie had left from a friend’s house who had a very furry german shepherd, and Richie had the beginnings of a cold) to control his thunderclap sneezes, but, like the thunder, Richie’s sneezes were a force of nature, and could not be quieted down or controlled any better than the wind.

Hoping he’d gotten his nose under control with that last massive sneeze, Richie ventured to speak, “No… it’s the perfume... oh, wait… ‘nothing one’s cahhhh…. coming…. RAAAAASSSSHOOOOOH! YASSSSSSHHHHHHHH-OOO!” Richie sniffed loudly, as two girls, one of who was probably wearing the sneeze-causing perfume, looked around. The girl wearing the perfume, alright slightly tipsy, half-spoke, half-shouted, “Ugh, I can’t stand it when people exaggerate their sneezes like that! Can’t he control it? That’s just too loud!”

Aside from the irony of the woman commenting on Richie’s loud sneezes with her loud voice (although Richie had to admit that even a trained opera singer would have difficulty keeping up with him in volume when he really got going), Adam was offended by her comments about his friend, and was about to walk up and give the perfume drenched woman a piece of his mind when her friend abruptly did it for him!

“Oh, Charlene, be quiet! They can hear you. Besides, how can you expect a poor kid to control his sneezes when you can’t even control your big mouth!” Adam had to admit that he was impressed, and as Charlene and her assertive friend got in line for the same club as Adam, Richie, and Jerry, Adam made a mental note to “bump into” her at some point that night. Maybe Richie’s wind-machine strength allergies would flare up again and give him an excuse to talk to her?

Meanwhile, Ashton wasn’t far behind the trio, cringing at each of Richie’s elephantine sneezes. He thought to himself, “This is ridiculous! He sneezes even louder than my father! How embarrassing! I don’t even know how those other goons can stand to be seen around him. I’ll teach him not to be so disgusting with his sneezes.” As the perfume got to his nose, Ashton harshly muffled three sneezes by pinching his nostils, “shhhmp! chikkk! ch!” They were barely audible. Ashton fingered the red pepper in his pocket as he watched Richie and company walk into the club. He bided his time for a few minutes, and then, after walking around the block a bit, went in as well.

—-

As soon as the threesome entered the club, Ritchie rushed off to the restroom, hoping to give his nose a good, strong blow to clear his nose of perfume and pollen, so as to head off the sneezes at the pass. But by the time he reached the restroom door, his twitching, tickling nose had had too much, and, bleary-eyed, Richie let it take over for six full-strength sneezes: “HAASSSSSHHHHHOOOooooo… hh… hhhiiiiiIIIIIIIIICHOOOOOOO! Ih-CHOOO! haaahHH-CHOOOOOO! ahhhhhHHH-CHOOOO! HAHH-CHOOOOOOOhhhhheyyy” That last one was a monster, making a gutteral, throat-scraping sound as the normal “choo” was twisted by Richie’s awe-inspiring lung power into a growling, snarling shout of a sneeze, leaving Richie somewhat lightheaded and dizzy. And of course, he immediately connected the number of sneezes (Richie rarely let out so many all in a row like that) to the head cold he was desperately afraid was brewing in his firecracker nostrils, those wide, vacuum-like tunnels where tickles went in, and sneezes came out that were second only to the Big Bad Wolf with a bad cold.

And speaking of colds, Richie was terrified of developing one. Every cold he’d ever had had settled directly in his nose, causing a near-constant tickle that he could only blow out with his biggest, most ear-drum busting, dorm-wall rattling, earthquake-causing sneezes. Even Richie’s biggest sneezes could only provide momentary relief from the tickle; minutes later, the tickle would come back with a vengence, and so would the sneezes, until Richie would deliberately blow them out as hard as he could, just to get the tickle to stop for a few minutes. Richie’s colds were events in the Robbins household (and every house on the surrounding block); he hoped and prayed they wouldn’t become events on-campus too.

Looking around the restroom and finding it (thank goodness) empty, Richie marched to a stall to give his nose a few of his patented, honking nose blows. While not quite commensurate to his sneezes in volume, those bass-note honks of his could certainly send a rumble through any room, and Richie was glad that the room remained empty as he did his best to keep his nose free and clear, so as to minimize sneezing episodes.

Meanwhile, Adam and Jerry were on the prowl, and getting shut down all the time. Jerry had offered to buy drinks for no less than three women, with no success, while Adam’s jokes were falling unusually flat, perhaps owing to the volume of the music and the near-impossibility of hearing anything (except perhaps for Richie) over the thumping bass and wailing noise of the speakers.

So it was that Adam and Jerry had given up and begun dancing their way into the morass of people at the center of the club, when Richie went searching for them. Of course, hidden as they were in the mass of people, Richie had no hope of finding either of his friends, and sat down at the bar, quickly flashing his (fake) ID, and ordered a beer. He figured he’d wait until he found Adam and Jerry to start dancing, and he was sure that his nose would give him ample opportunity before then to test Adam’s theory that the noise of the club would muffle the rumbling explosions of his nose.

In fact, as the bartender slid Richie his beer, Richie felt his nose flaring into life. His breath hitched, his face contorted, his nostrils assuming control of his face, twisting this way and that as though they had a life of their own, reacting to the bucking bronco of itch that had, as always, brushed ferociously against the twitching walls of his sensitive nostrils. And as Richie’s face contorted, his watering eyes slid closed in preparation of the great big sneeze to come…

…and Ashton Stevens saw his chance. He’d been sitting at the bar, plotting how he could cause misery for Richie at the club. Luckily, he’d been at the bar while Richie had erupted in the restroom (especially since the only thing Ashton found more disgusting than sneezes was nose blowing), but now he was sitting not too far from Richie, and had been spying on him out of the corner of his eye since Richie had sat down. Now was his chance. He slid the small shaker of red pepper out of his pocket and sent a cloud floating up into the air, knowing that the strong air conditioning in the room, as well as the breeze from the constantly opening front door, would waft the tickly spice straight into Richie’s all-too-combustible nose.

And he was right. Seconds later, Richie froze, as he felt the tickle in his nose multiply exponentially. The itch in his nose, already monstrous, became a thousand buzzing flies, scurrying through his nasal passages, wreaking havoc on his sensitive sinuses, creating such tremendous pressure in his nose that he knew that the only way to get any relief would be to blast out a sneeze at full-strength. He felt it gearing up to be as big as the one in the dining hall, if not bigger. Out of his watery eyes, he took a quick glance around him: there was no way he’d get to the restroom before his Vesuvial nose gave an eruption that would put Mt. St. Helens to shame, and the way his nose was feeling, it’d be wet enough to outshine Old Faithful. But there were so many people around. Richie had been warned about it time and time again, and he knew he shouldn’t… but he didn’t want to spray any strangers! So… he stifled.

“ahh…. Ahhhhhh… AHHHHHHHHH… AGGGHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAA…” He wound up, with huge, powerful breaths, and then… “chhhmmppppppppppp!” He sneezed, somewhat wetly, but contained, and with nowhere near enough volume to be heard over the noise of the club. Stifling successful.

But his nose was on fire. It was as if he had quadrupled the already unimaginable tickle. If he was going to fire off one eruption before, now he was preparing for a twenty-one-gun salute. Finger struck firmly beneath his nose, Richie rushed to the restroom as fast as he could, pushing past the clubgoers in the crowded club, afraid to give so much as an “excuse me” for fear that speaking would tip the sneeze into the uncontrollable zone. Richie forcefully pushed the door open as he marched into the restroom, which was, of course, filled with people. In the already small, echoing restroom, Richie’s sneezes would probably reach ear-splitting volumes and annoy, if not terrify, every patron in the restroom. But it wasn’t as if he had any choice; he had to let the monsters loose.

Richie quickly swung a stall door open and closed as his breaths became audible, and grew louder, and louder… “iiihhhhhh… HHHHHiiiiIIIHHHHHH… HAHHHHHH… HAHHHHHHH…. HHAAAAHHHHHHHHH…HAAAAAAAAAAAAA-SHOOOOOOOOOOOOO! BAAACCCHOOOOOEEYYYY! HASSSHHH! HAHHSSHHHHuuhh… OOOO-SHOOOOOOOH! USSSSHHHHHH-CHHAAAHHH! Ahhhhh… Ahhhh… ahhhhh…CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

They came, sneeze after sneeze after sneeze, outrageous in volume, hurricane like in spray. Richie heedlessly swung backwards and forwards, gulping in air to fuel each massive explosion. He knew now why his parents had warned him to never, never hold in his sneezes, because this was the result: a constantly seizing nose in a fit that would last for minutes.

The reaction of the men in the restroom, as expected had been vocal and noisy. The already somewhat drunken patrons had no trouble voicing their disapproval: “What the hell?! Did somebody drop a bomb in here? Shuddup in there, I can’t hear myself think!”

But Richie, whatever he wished, he no ability to shut up. His nose was in control now, and it was going to blow, and blow, and blow until the pent-up tickle was blasted out, full-strength.

“Hehhhh… ehhhhhh… EEHHHHH-SHOOOOOH! EH-SHOOOH! Eghhhhaaaa… haaaa… haaa… YAAAAAAA-SHHHEEEEEWWWWWWWW! SHIISSSHHHHH! ISSHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHH-SHOOOH! AHHHHHHHH-SCHOOOO! AH-SHOOOOH!”

The sneezes just kept coming, unbelievably loud, unbelievably powerful. This was one of the longest fits Richie could remember (though probably not the worst he’d experienced). Gradually, the sneezes grew farther apart: “haahhhh.. hahhhh.. HA-SHOOO! Ahhhhh… HA-SHUU! iiSHHHIIII-OO!”

Each sneeze, though still loud enough to echo through the restroom, was at a more manageable volume. Still, Richie was exausted from firing off sneeze after sneeze, and as his nose finally let out its final “heh… heh-chhh-EW!” Richie just wanted a nice long nap. He sat in the stall for a moment to survey the damage. He had been right about the spray; he could see the glistening drops decorating the entire stall door as though it had been hit with a hose. He still heard the men grumbling and muttering about his sneezes, and he was sure that those who were in the restroom (and probably those near the door) would spread the word to their friends about Richie’s incredible eruption. Sometimes, Richie just wished that his nasal curse could just go away. Why was his family cursed with the world’s most massive sneezes? Why was his nose the epicenter of such eruptions? But, as he sniffed gently, preparing for a nose blow to clear the last bits of congestion in his nose, he was glad for one thing: the tickle was completely gone.

Meanwhile, Ashton had been standing near the door, and had heard Richie firing off sneeze after sneeze after sneeze. He was red with rage; that fit had been exactly like the one his dad had blasted out at Ashton’s senior prom, in the middle of Ashton’s prom king acceptance… all over the prom queen. She dumped Ashton within the week.

Turning violently on his heel, Ashton marched out of the club, certain that he had a new secret weapon to use against Richie: if he could get him to clam up those sneezes, just once, then he knew Richie would fire off a show of sneezes so loud that Ashton could use it to embarrass Richie in front of anyone within earshot; in other words, Ashton grimly laughed to himself, anyone within a five-mile radius.

—-

Ashton, however, had not been the only person close enough to the restroom to hear those gale-force blasts trumpeting out from Richie's nostrils of fury. In fact, just as Richie was beginning to launch into a fit for the ages, Jerry had decided he ought to slip off to the restroom; no need to "break the seal" yet, but Jerry had anticipated he was in for a fairly long night, partying with his newfound friends, and--hopefully--with a few more newfound "friends" from among the club's very attractive female population, and as such wanted to make sure that his tiny bladder would not interfere with his very large-sized dreams---oh, alright, fantasies---of what would go on that night.

But Jerry was pretty far from the door when he heard that tell-tale eruption coming from the men's room. He quickly stuck his head into the restroom and knew immediately the source of the disturbance. He would scarcely have believed that even Richie could sneeze so forcefully. He was putting up a good fight with the music in the club, and that was deafening as it was. Heck, at close range, Richie's nose could have outdone a shotgun, a leafblower, a small nuclear explosion... but in the midst of these musing, Jerry noticed Ashton. Unlike everyone else in the restroom (and nearby), who were scrambling to get away from the noise, Ashton seemed transfixed. He was just standing by the restroom door, not going in, didn't seem to be coming out, and he had the most peculiar, almost devious expression on his face. Of course, Jerry knew Ashton somewhat---Ashton was touted as one of the most talented football players of the freshman class, and at their D1 school, that meant a lot. But this threw Ashton in a completely different light. Why on earth was he just standing there? And what was that strange look that passed across his face each time Richie bellowed out another monsterous, "HHHHHEEEEEESSSSSSSSCHHHHHOOOOOOOOoooooh!" Jerry was not a suspicious person by nature--and as Richie's twenty-one gun salute went on, he knew he had to check and see if Richie was alright--but he filed that instance away in his mind as yet another strange happening of college life.

The more important thing was to check on Richie. When it finally seemed that Richie's nose had calmed down enough that he'd be able to speak, Jerry ventured forth a, "Hey, man, you alright in there?"

"Jerry?" Richie responded, fearing the worst, "oh, god, don't tell me you could hear me all the way out..."

"No, no, man, I was just heading to the restroom when I heard the big bang from outside the door, don't worry. But what happened there? I didn't think you were ever going to stop!"

"N-neither did... oh, god, h-here ihhhh... here it gooohhhh... ohhhhh... oohhhhhh... ahh... HA-CHOOOOH! Man, thought I was done there," Richie give a liquid sniff, "but the aftershocks just sneak up on me."

"And speakin' of sneakin', there you guys are!" Adam quipped.

"Are you just everywhere?" Richie asked, half-laughingly, half-exasperated. Adam had the strangest habit of popping up everywhere.

"A magician never reveals his secrets, young Richard." Adam gave a sudden gasp before, "Ha-chooOOSH! Huh... hashhhooo! Ugh, must be in the air," Adam said, as he grabbed a tissue from the sink counter to blow his nose. He was a bit of a nasal honker, and his blows were decidedly louder than his generally quiet, gentle sneezes (although, in comparison to a Richie-cane, your average elephant was pretty quiet and gentle), and were much louder when he had a cold---because he didn't have Richie's almighty, head-clearing sneezes, he relied much more on forceful nose-blowing to blast out the itch from his nose, and still had far less success--unsurprisingly--that a full-force sneeze from Richie, even without a cold or that dreaded red pepper.

Richie, however, wasn't so sure that something was "in the air"; the humongous fit he'd just succumbed to made him almost positive: he was catching a cold.

"No, Adam, it's not 'in the air'--we're sick, and I'm going home." Richie declared. Adam was somewhat taken aback at his friend's unusually forceful tone, but he knew that, as always, he could joke his friend out of his resolve.

"Oh, you're not sick---granted, a 300-pound body builder with a bad head cold and a wind machine up his nose probably can’t compare to the ‘ol schozz-cannon you’ve’ got… but those, my friend, were not cold sneezes.”

“How do you know?” Richie demanded.

“I still have hearing in my right ear, obviously.”

#snz story #snz fic #male allergies #male cold #wow I haven't read this in like a decade #I should reread it maybe #old fics

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