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#mushroom anon
pro-weems-places · 9 months
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Hiiii I don’t know if your requests are open so your welcome to ignore this…but could you do Larissa Weems finding out her shy girlfriend has a praise kink?
Twenty-Five Shades of Red
Larissa Weems x female Reader
(ao3 link in title)
A/N: I am so so so sorry this took me so long to write <.< but I do hope you will still see it and enjoy reading it.
WC: 2998
Content/Warnings: praise kink, smut, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms
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You glared daggers at principal Weems, otherwise known as your very lovely girlfriend. 
“But your Botany professor has a little more to say about that,” her voice boomed over the quad. 
What felt like thousands of eyes, but were really just about 213 pairs, turned to look at you. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you made your way over to the microphone. Larissa stepped away to make some space for you, but remained close enough to give you a sense of safety. A gesture so considerate that you would have loved to jump her then and there, if she wasn’t the only reason you were standing up here anyway. 
“Uhm, hi,” you started nervously. A few chuckles made the round and you chanced a quick glance and Larissa who couldn’t hide her own grin. Oh, you would just have to find a way to make her pay for this later. 
With a wavering smile, you looked back out at the crowd. In small groups they were already intimidating, but you managed your classes well enough. This, however, was your own personal hell. 
“First of all, I would like to thank Principal Weems, not only for her excellent leadership – ” It didn’t surprise you at all that Wednesday Addams was the first to start clapping. You had first-hand experience of how close her and Larissa were, even if neither would openly admit to it. 
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
By the time you made it through your little speech, you didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry from relief. But what you did know was that your lunch had been very close to making a reappearance at more than once. 
People had always made fun of how shy you were and you weren’t sure if their teasing was supposed to make you feel included to try and ease you out of it, but it always accomplished the exact opposite. If you were being completely honest, you sometimes didn’t know how you even managed to finish your education and get a job – a job in education, nevertheless. 
Stepping down from the podium, you watched as the students dispersed when Larissa dismissed them. Your gaze swept over groups of fours and fives, and even one group of werewolves as large as 20. But it stuck with the few who sat alone, and you knew there were many more teenagers who had already rushed back to the relative safety of their rooms. They, you thought to yourself, they are the reason I ended up here. 
You jumped when a hand landed on the small of your back. The dark chuckle that followed had you relax again immediately. With anyone but Larissa you would have blushed a fifty shades of red just then, but she was the only person who had been able to get you to be okay with opening up. The only person who managed to ease the shame of being known.
“You did so good up there,” she whispered into your ear.
It was so unexpected, there was truly no way to hide the hitch in your breath. Perhaps, Larissa Weems did still manage to make you blush at least twenty-five shades of red. 
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
The second Larissa came through the door of your shared quarters you were on her, crashing your lips against hers and doing your absolute best to try and make her forget her own name. You were rewarded when she moaned into your mouth, tongue pushing forward to meet yours. You could tell that she’d already had her evening glass of wine by the sweet traces of grape that coated her tongue. 
“Mhm, and what did I do to deserve this type of greeting, darling?” Larissa purred against your lips when you broke away for some much needed air. You didn’t answer, pressing your lips to hers again instead. She let you, leaning into the kiss for a while, before grabbing you by the waist and gently pushing you away.
There was a look of slyness on Larissa’s face that was only partially hidden by her desire and genuine appreciation of your greeting. You swallowed, and you could feel heat beginning to rush through your body. You knew that look and what it meant for your evening activities. Slightly nervous butterflies flapped in your stomach, but they did nothing to quell your excitement, only aiding in intensifying it. 
“As much as I appreciate your little welcome, I think,” Larissa said as her arms moved lower until she grabbed your butt and tugged, “you deserve a little reward yourself.” You yelped as she lifted you, still amazed at how effortlessly she was able to carry you. Your legs quickly wound themselves around her waist, and Larissa made sure you were secure before she started moving towards the bedroom. 
You didn’t know why you deserved a reward, but as Larissa carried you past the bedroom mirror, you saw that the mention alone had been enough to turn your face a lovely shade of pink. 
“You did such a good job with your speech today, my darling. Just as I knew you would.”
You mewled, as Larissa breathed the words against your cheek, her breath caressing the sensitive skin of your neck just so. A little embarrassed, you immediately snapped your mouth shut, but Larissa chuckled as she deposited you on your shared bed. She reached out her hand, tugging on your bottom lip until you opened your mouth for her again. 
“Mhm, that’s it. I want to hear all of your little noises. You know there is no need to be ashamed of them.” 
The way Larissa held eye contact with you had always been too intense for you. But you’d learned early on that she enjoyed watching you squirm under her gaze, and so you tried your best to keep looking at her, knowing that every little movement her impossibly blue stare drew from you was adding greatly to her pleasure. 
Larissa’s fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, trailing up and down your sides and sending shivers down your entire body. Even after so many months of her touches, they still felt as magical as they did the first time. If anything, the growing feelings you had for her only turned her touch more electric.
“Lift your arms for me, darling.” 
Your arms felt heavy and your movement was sluggish. The mix of arousal and excitement (and not knowing exactly what new discovery Larissa had made and wanted to try with you) made it hard to act quick and nimble. Not that it mattered much, as Larissa seemed to very much enjoy the effect she had on you. Her eyes shimmered with unexpressed glee, and the thought that you were the one to have pleased her so stoked the fire between your legs. Subconsciously, you tried to press your thighs together to relieve some of the ache, but Larissa was having none of it. As soon as your shirt was off, she opened your legs and stepped right between them, lips attaching themselves to your neck, licking and kissing a path down towards your bra straps, pulling each off as she softly kissed the indents they left on your skin.
After she finally rid you off your bra, you leaned back on one hand, the other coming up to wiggle its way into Larissa’s intricate updo. Her hair styles always looked so elegant on her, but your favourite part about them was getting to take out the pins for her in the evening. Larissa hummed as your nails scraped her scalp and you sucked in a sharp breath as you felt the vibrations of it against your nipple. Gently, she bit down on it, licking over it in apology directly afterwards and moving to your other breast to repeat the same dance. 
You moaned softly, whining just a little when Larissa let off and leaned back again. The mischievous glamour was back in her eyes and you couldn’t hold back on your curiosity any longer. Continuing to massage Larissa’s scalp, you asked her: “What is your plan for tonight?”
Larissa’s eyes sparkled brighter, a grin forming on those ruby red lips. How did she still look so perfect with her lipstick smeared down her chin and up to her nose?
“Let’s just say I have a theory that needs further testing. Now be a good girl for me and lie back.”
You wanted to ask her what theory she could possibly have developed, but the words “good girl” altered your brain chemistry in a way where all you could do was follow her request.  
The moment your back hit the sheets, Larissa’s fingers started working open the buttons on your pants. The sound of the zipper was obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room and you could feel your breathing accelerate further as the pure feeling of anticipation shot sparks of arousal down your whole body. You were so lost in your own feelings, you almost missed the moment Larissa pulled your jeans down your legs and tossed them aside. 
You did hear her guttural moan when she saw your panties, however. 
“Has my pretty girl been wearing these all day? Or did you put them on freshly for me, hmm?”
You didn’t love wearing lingerie. It looked pretty, but was entirely unsuited to be worn for extended periods of time. And you knew that Larissa knew that. Once again, you felt the warmth of embarrassment colour your cheeks, and you bit your lip, lifting your head to look back at Larissa and taking in her smug smile. She played with the waistband of your lacy panties, tracing every curve of the intricate pattern, then running her fingers past your cunt, down your thighs. You couldn’t stop a quiet whimper from escaping your lips. 
Larissa chuckled, knowing exactly how much her teasing affected you. “I asked you a question, my love.” 
You groaned internally, head flopping back into the pillows as you tried to evade her gaze. She was really doing her best to put you on the spot today. You took a few shuddering breaths before pressing out a “yes”.
“Yes, what, my darling girl?” Larissa asked again, leaning down to ghost her tongue over the insides of your thighs, tracing the paths her fingers had travelled before. 
Your hips bucked upwards in a failed attempt to get her mouth closer to your already soaking wet cunt, but the only thing it brought you was Larissa’s fingers digging into your hips, pushing them firmly back against the mattress. 
“Yes, I put them on for you,” you whimpered, one arm coming up to cover your face, trying to stave off that feeling of shame that had your pussy clench around nothing. 
“Good girl.”
Larissa’s drawl had you bucking your hips again, back bending as your arm dropped to your mouth to cover your sinful moans.
Finally, you could feel those long warm fingers slip beneath the waistband, pulling your panties down and leaving you completely exposed in front of a still fully clothed Larissa. There was something so shameful and dirty about it that made your folds glisten even more as you felt your hole clench harder. 
“My darling little girl is so wet for me,” Larissa said as she slid closer, a single finger swiping through your folds, “I wish you could see yourself now. See how absolutely beautiful you look spread out for me like this.”
You moaned, eyes falling shut, as she flicked her finger over your clit, swirling it around the sensitive bud a few times before pulling off again. A high-pitched desperate sound left your throat that only added to your feeling of embarrassment. You watched, panting, as Larissa brought her finger to her lips, licking it once and then popping it in her mouth to suck the rest of your juices off it with a low moan. 
“And you taste so delicious, my sweet one.”
All the while, her eyes never left yours. You could literally feel yourself dripping and you begged for Larissa to touch you. 
“As my girl wishes. This is your reward for doing so well with your speech today, after all,” your girlfriend said before moving ever closer and licking a strip up your folds. 
You screamed without abandon at finally feeling her velvet tongue against you. She sucked on your clit, hummed around it, and your hips bucked again. Larissa tightened her grip to keep them on the mattress. You knew there would be bruises on your hip bones tomorrow and you whimpered again, one hand coming up to play with your nipples. You loved when Larissa marked you as hers.
"Oh, please. I need…" you moaned, as the coil behind your navel tightened further. You wanted her fingers, you needed her to fuck you.
You whined as Larissa stopped in her ministrations, likely contemplating if she should tease you more, or give you what you wanted.
Without any further comments, she hooked one of your legs over her shoulder. Two fingers found your entrance easily, teasing you, dipping only their tips inside before pulling out again. 
Your whole face scrunched up in pleasure and you whimpered. "Please."
Larissa's face lit up and she pushed her fingers all the way into your warm cunt, palm pressing against your throbbing clit. 
"And you beg so prettily."
You clenched around her fingers, groaning so loud you thought the whole castle must know exactly what Larissa was doing to you. She looked so beautiful as she knelt between your legs, hand buried inside of you and that dazzling smile with her pearly white teeth once again sinking to your mound. You hissed as she buried her nose in your curls, nipping slightly at the skin above your clit and then moving lower to suck on your bundle of nerves in the same rhythm as her fingers pistoned into you. . 
It didn’t take long at all, and you didn’t know if it was the ruthless pounding of her fingers, the tongue on your clit, or the words of praise that sent you over the edge. Perhaps, it was simply the ethereal beauty of one Larissa Weems. Most likely, it was a mixture of all the above. Either way, you screamed out your release, not having enough brain power left to feel self-conscious about it. Larissa kept going, moving her fingers slower now, but still hitting your sweet spot on every pass. 
“That’s it, my good girl. You did so well for me. Ride it out, love.”
Your walls clenched around her fingers again at every word of praise that rolled off of your girlfriend's sweet tongue and you felt another coil of arousal tighten in your stomach. 
“Please, Lar- please,” you gasped, body writhing and hands frantically searching for something else to grab onto. 
Larissa’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, you want to cum again?” She returned her mouth to your cunt, licking your hole around her fingers and then coming up to resume sucking on your still sensitive clit. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Wanting to give me more of your delicious cum. I can’t wait to lick it all off my fingers.”
“Ugn–ple–ahhh,” you moaned without abandon, hips thrashing underneath Larissa, trying to press your clit more firmly against her long tongue. Your cunt was so sore from your previous orgasm but at the same time you longed for more, and Larissa was more than ready to give it to you. 
“That’s it, my sweet girl,” Larissa murmured against your clit, flicking her tongue to emphasise every word. 
Your arousal was so strong you could barely keep your eyes open, only seeing a blurry version of your girlfriend before you. But it didn’t matter because you could certainly feel her. Your whole body convulsed with every thrust of her fingers against that spongy spot inside you and you cried out every time felt the vibration of her voice on your clit. Your fingers hurt from how hard they were gripping the sheets. You were close. So close.
“Yes, baby girl, that’s it. Come for me, like the perfect girl you are.”
It was too much. Your hands unclenched around the sheets, grabbing a handful of Larissa’s blonde locks instead and pressing her closer against your cunt as you screamed, walls clenching around her fingers. Larissa obediently let you press her face against your beautiful pussy. Her tongue flattened, and her fingers still pumping, she let you ride out your second high. 
And once you came back down from it, breath and vision returning to you fully, you saw that Larissa was looking at you as if you hung the stars. 
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Larissa laid down on her back, pulling you closer until your head rested on her chest. She pressed a few light kisses to your hair, pushing the few strands that had fallen into your face behind your ear again. You sighed contentedly, pressing yourself even closer to her.
“And has my smart girl figured out what it was I wanted to try?”
The words that had been so arousing during sex, still had your stomach doing somersaults now. You could feel the heat rushing into your cheeks and you heard the way Larissa drew in a breath to keep herself from chuckling. Slightly mortified, you buried your face in her chest. Your whole body moved with her as she couldn’t repress her laughter anymore. 
“I think it’s quite sweet. And I really am proud of you, love.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest that rivalled the burning in your cheeks and you groaned against her collarbones. “Please, enough of that.”
Once again, Larissa’s chest moved rhythmically with her chuckles. You knew it would be easy to let it lull you into a peaceful slumber. 
“Alright,” Larissa smiled, “for now.”
Tag list:  @tanith-rhea @scream-queenlover @zephyr-is-tired @readingtheentrails @alder-saan @smutuniversesblog @a-queen-and-her-throne @lvinhs @oceansblooming @yourlocaldisneyvillain @ladylarissaweems @eveymay @ladyzmilf002 @weemssapphic @bigolgay @gwenzone @maximoffslovergirl @opheliauniverse @dianneking @gwerach @billiedeansbitch @no-phrogs-in-hats
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justanidiotartist · 5 months
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Giving Bed Bug a little fungus friend 🍄
-🍄
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hmmm thinking that imp n skizz. they’re brothers they’re best friends they’re absolutely platonic soulmates and then I start thinking abt double life i think in DL you actually do get the kinda string thingy that only you and the other person can see, but AFTER you actually figure out who your soulbound is. It helps to know where your other half is, and that’s what the string does But then impulse and skizz are soulbound too, not by the rules of a death game but by the way the universe works. they too have their own string of fate that only they can see, that’s still there even in other worlds But then when double life happens it’s just. gone. Like it never existed at all Bdubs keeps catching impulse staring at his hand like he’s looking for something. (copy-pasted from discord)
-🍄
as much as everyone knows that xisuma and others summoned impulse into hermitcraft. it wasn't the first time that he has been summoned.
they were young, just children. blood pouring from their palms. a brother made. the dry crackly heat of summer air cocooning them. nothing could break their bond (or so they thought).
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kirozai · 2 years
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OKK HOW ABOUT HOW WOULD THE FATUI TO HER GRACE HAVING A TWIN BROTHER WHO IS VERY PROTECTIVE OF HER LIKE HE WOULD BE USING HER LOVE FOR HIM TO TAKE HER FROM THEM ♡♡♡♡♡
LOVE YYAAA ♡♡♡♡♡♡
(platonic siblings!!!)
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now this would be literally the chaos of the century in teyvet.
respect for your twin brother is almost as high as you are, yet they sacred texts never quite mentioned him, it was always the most asked question
“was their twin brother a creator too?���
it’s been widely debated yet finally after his and your ascension it was clear no matter the answer, he was literally hogging you.
i mean that’s what siblings are ofc!! but it’s like you dont have time for everyone else at ALL.
didn’t make it better that he was still your brother.
although they have their ways
archons like zhongli and venti are understanding, yet it can sometimes be irritable. zhongli has his tactics to get your brother away, yet his lips are tied shut.
venti on the other hand just starts out right sobbing silently so you have no choice but to spend time with him, no matter what your sibling says.
lumine is reminded of her brother when you two are together, no surprise that your brother and her get along just fine.
your brother is not really often worshipped as much as you are. so maybe. some things may have to be.. changed about him. by any means.
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Hey Engie! Thanks for agreeing to help me out with the skateboard, I would've gone to Scout for this, but he's... y'know... Scout, I love him and all (platonically) but he's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, also, could you do me a favor? Scout and I are getting our braces done on the same day, May 23rd I'm getting my bands changed and he's getting them on, can you just, remind him to brush his teeth, I don't want him getting any cavities, can you just remind him to brush his teeth for me?
-🍄
No problem, darlin. I wish you well on yer braces!
@theredhotshot brush your teeth, son!
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Hey Sniper, you okay there? You seem sorta misty eyed
-🍄
Im not getting misty-eyed, Im a sniper.
I got fucking sand in my eyes.
Plus itd be hard to see with my sunglasses on.
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angstyaches · 7 months
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thinking about mitsuko and bastian rn 😈
can you write sick bastian with caretaker mitsuko? we’ve never seen him sick before, right? 🍄
Hahaha OOPS, this got long.
Context: Takes place shortly before they become a couple (I thought that would be better, for the ✨angst✨). Also: a gold star for anyone who knows why Mitsuko growls and pulls away near the end 👀
Word Count: 4,700ish
CW: work stress, sickness, fever, dizziness, confusion, vomit, hiding sickness, food description, pining.
___
Sucking in air through a mask – when most of that air seemed to be made of steam – was proving more and more difficult as time went on. Bastian was starting to see stars at the edges of his vision, and it was getting less and less likely that he could keep powering through the ache that was building in his temples. 
Somehow, every time he felt he was about to lose all feeling in his body and black out on the floor, he kept going. 
He wasn’t sure if that feeling was met with relief, victory, or disappointment. 
“Mendoza!” a raspy voice from across the kitchen barked over all of the other noise – the hissing, the crackling, the whooshing, the bubbling. 
Bastian’s skeleton almost leapt out of his skin. For a heavy smoker with bad lungs, Chef Yamashita could make himself heard when needed. 
“I need that sauce now!” 
“Hai, Chef…” A spike of adrenaline made Bastian’s hands move faster. 
For the next twenty seconds or so, his heartbeat was the loudest sound in the kitchen. He blinked and found himself dishing up food with hands that trembled like he was caught up in an earthquake, not in the average Saturday-evening-dinner-time rush. 
As the bowls were promptly swept away, Bastian found himself wondering – with a queasy feeling in his stomach – whether the presentation had been up to scratch. He’d been focusing so hard on not spilling something over the edge of the bowl, he hadn’t paid much attention to how it had looked in the bowl. Oh, well. If he’d fucked something up, the owner would read about it online and Bastian would get an earful later. 
It was, quite simply, not his problem right now. That was all he had, and he clung to it desperately. 
Realising he had nothing to work on for the next few minutes, Bastian ducked away to the bathroom. As rare and wonderful as a toilet break could be, fresh air would have been much more appreciated; unfortunately, the restaurant was on the seventh floor and the only outdoor space adjacent to the kitchen was on the fire escape, and… well, Bastian could do without a bout of vertigo on top of everything else. 
He gulped nervously just at the thought of it, his legs swaying as he pictured himself suspended on nothing but a sheet of metal. 
As soon as he was alone, Bastian tugged off his face mask and gulped at the air. It wasn’t much cooler in here, but it was marginally less humid than the kitchen. In the mirror, his entire face glistened with sweat, beads of it glistening in the thick strands of his beard. He grimaced as he noticed that the mask in his hand was soaked through, almost transparent. He’d need to grab a fresh one at some point. 
Bastian grimaced as he pulled his hand towel out of his pocket and scrubbed it unceremoniously over his face and neck. He ran cold water over his hands and wrists and splashed his cheeks with it. He felt slightly better, his soul no longer eager to evacuate his body to escape the stifling heat. But now that relative silence settled around him, he could no longer ignore the throbbing on either side of his skull, like a big set of tongs was squeezing him and preparing to flip him over. 
He planted a hand on the edge of the sink, not liking how weak his arm felt under the weight of his body. The black lines of his tattoos started to swirl back and forth as he stared at them, so he shut his eyes. 
And that was so much worse. 
Nausea bubbled in the pit of his stomach, hot and acidic, like Bastian had swallowed something nuclear and it was cooking his insides. He threw that onto the ever-growing list of things he just didn’t have time to deal with. 
Any second now, he’d hear Chef Yamashita roaring for him. 
Five more seconds, he told himself, drawing a deep breath and savouring the tepid ceramic against his palms and the muted murmur of activity on the other side of the walls. None of it was particularly pleasant, but he knew he’d miss it once he was back out there amidst the hustle, bustle, and craziness. Five more seconds, and I’ll get back out there. 
___ 
When he finally broke free of the kitchen and started making his way through the cramped, busy dining space towards the elevator, Bastian was just about ready to drop. He almost seriously considered curling up on the floor and going to sleep under one of the tables, just so he wouldn’t have to make the journey home. 
But he forced himself into the elevator and slumped against the wall as the thing moved. His stomach protested at the disorienting shift, and before the doors opened, Bastian had muffled two thick, acidic burps behind his fist. 
When the lift opened and the street came into view, so did a woman with two long, smooth pigtails tied at the crown of her head. She was wearing a pair of silky black shorts, and a cropped, puckered white blouse decorated with frills and bows. Her platform Mary Jane shoes made her look taller than she really was, but Bastian knew she’d still go up onto her toes when she hugged him. 
He started to move a little faster, no longer caring about the dizziness in his head or the lurching in his stomach. He didn’t care about anything then. 
Just Mitsuko. 
She looked up from her phone – knowing her, she’d probably been playing Mario Kart – and her face lit up when she saw him coming. God, she was an oasis in the desert, a cool waterfall in the middle of a damp jungle, and all he wanted to do was lose himself in her. 
“Hello!” She treated him to a gorgeous little two-handed wave. 
Bastian couldn’t even greet her. He just sort of fell against her, scooping her body close to his own. 
“Aw,” she said softly, rocking up onto her toes, just like he’d known she would. 
For a couple of seconds, Bastian was surrounded by pure bliss. She smelled like honey. Did she know she smelled like honey? Did she intentionally smell like honey? 
Then Mitsuko touched her heels to the ground again and freed one arm from the embrace. She seemed to be trying to do something with her other hand. He was in no way ready to end the hug, but it occurred to Bastian that he was pinning her inconveniently in place. 
Plus, it wasn’t fair to subject her to the ungodly amount of sweat that was pouring out of him. He stepped away from her, but she didn’t seem at all disgusted or concerned. After all, it was Japan in August, and Bastian worked in an enclosed, fast-paced environment. With fire and hot water. 
“Here you are. A present.” She handed him a can of his favourite cold coffee – which he immediately lifted and pressed against the side of his neck, all without breaking contact with her stunningly dark eyes. 
“O-oh... thank you,” he said. There was a slight tremour in his voice. He couldn’t recall ever getting emotional over coffee before, but this coffee, coming from her? It seemed to break and heal something in him all at once. 
Mitsuko’s eyelids dipped, and her smile deepened. 
Bastian followed her out of the building, his smile wavering as the outside air hit him in the face and the throat. The sun had gone down, but the concrete and tarmac remembered the heat of the day, and spewed it back up at the people trudging home or to the izakaya. It was so humid, and Bastian was so thirsty, he was certain there was more water clinging to the outside of his skin than inside his body. 
“So, wh-what are you doing here?” 
“I don’t know. I didn’t miss you.” Mitsuko smirked over her shoulder. “I just wanted to take a walk.” 
Bastian hurried to keep up with her energetic pace. Droplets of sweat clung to the back of his neck and his forehead. “Sure you did, cool girl.” 
“And… to get McDonald’s.” 
He fidgeted with the pull ring on the can of coffee she’d given him, feeling the condensation from the metal mingling – but not mixing – with the sweat on his hands. With how his stomach felt, the last thing he would have done after work was drink a coffee. 
But she had gotten it for him. She had anticipated that he’d appreciate something cold after work. Not only that, she had... gone out of her way to see him? She was wonderful. And right now, the coffee was an extension of her, so it would be wonderful, too. 
He cracked the can open and took a short swig. A sickly fluid started to flow into the gaps under his tongue, accompanied by a sharp tingling in his cheeks. 
“How was work?”  
“Oh, just…” Bastian pressed a finger to his mouth as the sweet, milky liquid seemed to stick in the back of his throat even after swallowing twice. He coughed to clear his throat, eyes widening as it occurred to him that he might just throw up from the contraction. 
Thankfully, one more careful swallow got it down, and kept down everything that was already there. The over-production of saliva seemed to fade, too. 
Mitsuko cocked her head as they walked, the slightest concern tugging at her face. 
“It was just… so busy.” 
“Mmm. You look busy.” Mitsuko shook her head at herself. “Mmm? No… dono yo ni...” 
“I look like I was busy?” 
“Yes. You look bad.” 
Bastian let out a weak chuckle. “Mitch. We don’t say that.” 
She turned her gaze up towards him, curious. 
“’You look bad’ doesn’t really mean ‘you look like you feel bad’, it… It sounds the same as ‘you look ugly’.” 
She shook her head and flicked the back of her hand towards Bastian’s torso. When it brushed against his stomach, Bastian had the strong urge to pin it there, imagining that it would soothe the ache a little. 
“You’re handsome,” she said matter-of-factly. “You know this.” 
Bastian almost choked on a sip of coffee. “Do I?” 
“Yes, you do.” 
He tried to mimic the inquisitive look she’d given him a few months ago, which made her crack another smile as she shrugged. 
“You have so many photos of yourself.” 
“I what?” 
“On your smartphone!” 
“Those – I-I – when did you...? Those are for checking my beard after shaving!” Bastian rubbed self-consciously at the side of his neck, instinctively feeling out how bad the stubble below his jawline was. “There are angles you just can’t get with a mirror.” 
“You can delete them after look, then.” 
“Okay, I also like tracking the progress of its growth…” Bastian poked Mitsuko’s shoulder. All he wanted was to keep hearing her voice. In fact, it was possible that her presence – in addition to the fresh(er) air – was healing him a bit, because he couldn’t stop smiling. “And what are you talking about, cool girl? How many selfies do you have on your phone?” 
“They’re for my Insta!” 
“It’s the same thing.” 
Mitsuko shook her head and caught hold of his elbow. “Crazy boy.”  
Bastian felt himself flush. He’d never had any friends who were big on physical contact, but she seemed to feel it was normal and acceptable. He wasn’t complaining; he just hoped she would assume he was sweaty because of the weather, not for some other reason. 
He enjoyed walking with her, and listening to her talk about her day, so much that he didn’t mind walking with his head spinning and his stomach doing flips. He took tiny, frequent sips of his coffee and found it wasn’t so bad. He was thirstier than he’d realised, and it was helping to cool him down.  
His pace did slow, however, as Mitsuko pointed towards the McDonald’s sign. The yellow ‘M’ had no business glowing so brightly amongst the cluster of signs full of kanji that Bastian couldn’t read. Even katakana was proving tricky for him in this state. 
“You... weren’t joking about wanting McDonald’s?” 
“Nope! Do you want something?” Mitsuko asked. 
He peered up into the restaurant. The tills were close to the door, to prioritise takeaways, which made the ten people waiting to order and collect their food seem like a dense crowd. 
Not to mention the smell of potato fries sizzling in oil hit him like a punch to the gut; after being stuck in the kitchen all day, the last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by the smell of food. 
“No, no.” Bastian was trembling, his stomach rumbling uncomfortably. “I’ll wait for you here. I already had dinner at the restaurant.” 
The flicker of surprise in Mitsuko’s eyes made his stomach flutter. 
“Okay,” she said, but she didn’t let go of his arm. As much as he adored being so close to her, Bastian prayed she let go soon, because he was certain that he was going to need to burp in the next minute or two.  
Luckily, she pulled away, blissfully unaware of the chaotic tossing of his stomach.  
“Just a moment.” 
“Take your time.” It was hard not to sound like he was begging.  
He grimaced as he watched her go inside, and let the fake smile drop away as soon as she was gone.  
He took a few steps down the street and sagged against a wall. Traffic noise swirled in his head and seemed to come from all around, not just the road. He felt sweat droplets coarse down through his leg hairs. He had stomach cramps so intense that it was a miracle he’d been standing and walking upright this entire time. 
“Urp – ugh.” Bastian smacked his lips, wishing he could dispel the sweet flavour of the coffee. The last thing he’d eaten had been a portion of fish and rice mid-morning, and on top of everything else, he was tasting it again now. Right down to the parsley seasoning.  
His stomach rumbled again, and he felt the vibrations all the way up in the back of his throat. 
Not good. He’d have to think of some excuse not to keep hanging out with Mitsuko. He needed to get home. He was headed for a disaster, and he’d rather she were nowhere near him when that happened. 
The way she’d looked at him just now... Was it possible that she was feeling something similar to what he was feeling? Not the nausea, dizziness, and general unpleasantness, but... the other feeling? The one that had prodded at his mind, kept him awake, made his heart skip beats, ever since they’d become friends? 
It sounded too perfect to be true. But if there was a chance, he wasn’t about to mess it up. 
“Hey.” 
Bastian jumped, swallowing a mixture of saliva and acid. He smiled weakly at the sight of Mitsuko stepping out of the restaurant. Crap. He hadn’t even had a chance to get any burps up, or to think of an excuse to go home.  
“Hey. That was... quick.” 
“Uh-huh.” She was propping up a paper bag between her belly and her elbow. “It’s called fast food, Bastian.” 
“Yeah, that’s... true.” 
Although Mitsuko was clearly ready to get going, Bastian couldn’t bring himself to hoist his body away from the support of the wall, but he knew he needed to. Mitsuko hadn’t noticed his unusual posture yet – she was busy rummaging in her paper bag for a couple of fries, which she popped into her mouth – but she would, and she’d worry. 
Oh, but the smell of the food was outside with him now, turning his stomach with its aroma of salt and grease. 
A few more minutes, Bastian told himself. A few more minutes, and he could break down. Once he’d made his excuses, he just needed to get to the station, say goodbye to her, get on the train, and get home. 
He could do this.  
He stood up straight with a smile. 
Mitsuko pulled her hand out of her McDonald's bag. She was holding a chicken nugget between her fingers, but instead of bringing it to her mouth, she was extending it towards Bastian. 
"Would you like one?" 
Bastian took one look at the crispy, gnarled coating of the nugget, and his teeth did him the unnecessary favour of conjuring up how the spongy texture of the chicken would feel as he bit through it. 
And suddenly he was bent double, retching from the very pit of his stomach, as Mitsuko tottered backwards on her chunky shoes. 
"Bastian!" she screamed. 
His first instinct was to beg her not to be so loud, not to draw any more attention to them; but before he could say anything, he was doubling over again, his insides roiling and clenching as he dispelled some more thick, orange vomit onto the sidewalk. It splattered out in tiny droplets, speckling the concrete, and Bastian couldn’t help but wonder how many times this particular path had been the victim of someone’s stomach contents. 
Mitsuko had a hand on his back, and she was fretting away in quickfire Japanese that his brain couldn’t even begin to keep up with. It wasn’t until she switched to English again that he began to feel like she was actually speaking to him. 
“Bastian, how long do you feel sick?” 
“I –” Bastian raised his head, and Mitsuko’s face split into two blurry copies of itself. He sagged against the wall again, clumsily sidestepping the pungent puddle he’d created. “Since I – mmph – ”  
He broke off into a wet belch that felt like it had gurgled up from very low in his stomach, even deeper than his belly button. He gently pressed a hand to his queasy gut; he’d resisted doing this so far, but since being humbled by the reality of puking in front of her, he wasn’t so much bothered anymore. 
“I’m s-sorry, Mitch.” 
Her dark eyes widened as she tilted her head, peering up into his face as though she’d lost something in the thickness of his beard or his eyebrows. “Why are you sorry?” 
“I didn’t want you to...” Bastian paused, eyelids fluttering against a wave of vertigo. He held fast against another bubbling belch that tickled his throat, and managed to swallow this back one down. “To see me like this.” 
“Crazy boy. Dousho ka na...” Mitsuko mumbled, rummaging in her handbag for her phone.  
That’s it, Bastian thought, panic seizing hold of his thumping heart. She was surely about to block him on social media, walk away, and never contact him again. And who could blame her? He was a disgusting mess, and she was stunning, elegant, perfect.  
A burning streak of annoyance spliced the nausea for a moment. How had he let himself consider that she liked him? 
He lowered his gaze, and it was then that he realised her glossy platform shoes had been in the splash zone during that second, powerful heave. His sick was streaking against the toes and buckles, and tiny splatters had made it into the white, frilled cotton of her socks. 
Shit. Bastian didn’t often cry – didn't often feel the need – but a sob pressed on his sore, abused throat just then. Either the fever was truly messing him up, or he was in way deeper than he’d even realised. 
She was the coolest girl he’d ever met, and he was a sweaty, struggling entry-level cook with barely-passable Japanese and what was possibly the most toxic-smelling stomach acid on Earth. He wished he could have at least moved away from the mess before collapsing against the wall. 
While Mitsuko was on her phone, the blurry shape of a passer-by caught Bastian’s hazy attention. The person turned their head to scowl at his vomit on the ground, but instead of eyeing him next, they eyed Mitsuko. She was oblivious, still tapping at something on her phone screen, but it made Bastian’s blood boil and his sickly stomach drop.  
Mitsuko didn’t deserve this kind of negative attention. She deserved to wear her pretty shoes and to eat her chicken nuggets in peace. 
Oh, god, those damn chicken nuggets. Even though Bastian hadn’t put one in his mouth, the memory of the thought of the taste and texture rolled his stomach over yet again. He shut his eyes and pressed his lips together in a pitiful show of defiance, even as his body instinctively leaned to the side. The surface of the wall tugged on the fibres of his shirt and felt abrasive against his shoulder. 
“Oh –” Mitsuko exclaimed softly, and suddenly a gentle yet sturdy hand was propping him up by the waist, so that he didn’t slide down the length of the wall and end up falling hip-first into his own sick. “Kawai so, Bastian. Are you okay?” 
He responded with a thick mouthful of bile, noisily ejected. Mitsuko was out of range this time, but even if she hadn’t been, he wasn’t confident that he could have avoided her shoes. 
“A taxi is coming,” Mitsuko said, with a tone so reassuring that Bastian wanted to wrap it around himself. 
“Wh-what?” he stammered, the weight of his own saliva slurring his speech. 
“We’ll take a taxi to your apartment now,” Mitsuko said. “If you are sick tomorrow, we’ll take a taxi to a clinic.” 
A clinic? Through the hellish fever and nausea, Bastian almost chuckled. In his family, a visit to the doctor – or, God forbid, the hospital – was reserved for when someone was literally in danger of dying, not for chills and some tummy issues.  
He knew Mitsuko was bring serious, though, because a few months ago, she had mentioned that her sister Yumi had visited a doctor when she’d had flu symptoms for more than two days. 
What a different world he lived in now. 
“Ah... I think this is ours.” Mitsuko was peering up the street, straining to see around the traffic that had built up at the nearest pedestrian crossing. The hand supporting Bastian’s waist smoothed a little reassuring circle through his shirt. “Ja. Yatte mi you. Are you ready?” 
“Mm,” Bastian grumbled miserably. He was still processing the fact that she was even still here, let along that she was trying to help him.  
Mitsuko wrapped her arms further around Bastian’s waist, tugging him towards her. Lips trembling and legs like jelly, Bastian turned his gaze towards her in disbelief. Was she... trying to make him lean on her? On her, whose head barely crested his shoulders in platform shoes?  
“M-Mitsuko, I’m..” Bastian swallowed, trying not to focus on the churning in his stomach or the fact that she was holding him so tightly even now that he three times sweatier than before. “Too heavy for you.” 
“I’m strong, Bastian. Believe me.” 
In the moment, he found that he did believe her. Not that he had much of a choice. It was her or the wall, and he didn’t quite fancy camping outside the McDonalds’ all night. 
He wasn’t sure if he blacked out, or if the fever warped his perception for a little while, but everything that happened between the sidewalk and the front door of his apartment was a nonsensical chain of confusion.  
He slumped across the back seats and Mitsuko pulled his head to her shoulder; he was almost certain that was real. He hoped it was, anyway. She rubbed his shoulder – probably oblivious to how her touch set his skin ablaze – and whispered reassuringly as he struggled not to vomit on the floor of the car. He was fairly sure that all happened, too. 
But Mitsuko had... Well, she’d said she was strong, but as far as Bastian could tell, she practically carried him all the way from the taxi, up the stairs, to his apartment. She didn’t scoop him up and hold him bridal-style or anything, but Bastian had the faint sense that, while he was leaning on her, she took about 90% of his weight the entire time. Impossible, of course, and therefore almost certainly a fabrication of his overheating brain. 
“Should’ve tidied,” he heard himself mutter as they walked into his one-room apartment.  
Mitsuko blew a little raspberry as she led Bastian, hobbling, to his unmade futon. “It’s nicer than Kaz’s place.” 
He shivered as he lay, getting listlessly lost in the depressing thought that she put him in the same category as her younger brother. 
But then he felt her gently unbuttoning his shirt. He swallowed thickly and tried to remain as still as he could, seated at the edge of his futon while she crouched in front of him. She had seen his bare chest and stomach before, at the beach, but his head felt like it was boiling from the inside as he became more and more exposed. 
Mitsuko then slipped her hands inside his open shirt, brushing the fabric back towards his shoulders, attempting to get it off of him. 
And then she jolted back from him, and let out a deep, animalistic growl. 
A growl? Surely that wasn’t right. Bastian’s brain must have been muddling things up again. Still, he frowned up at her, reckoning he definitely looked as pathetic as he felt. 
“A-are you okay?” he croaked. 
“Yes...” Mitsuko stared blankly into the air, squeezing the fingers of her own hand as though they hurt. “Sorry.” 
She didn’t make another attempt to remove his shirt, or mention it again; something must have distracted her. Bastian was probably reading too much into it, thanks to the fact that his thoughts felt like scrambled eggs. In the end, he shrugged the shirt off by himself and dropped it on the floor. 
He didn’t remove the thick, silver chain that bore his grandfather’s crucifix. He rarely did, unless he was shirtless outdoors, where it might leave an odd tan line. 
“Okay. Lie down,” Mistuko said. 
Bastian did. His pillow case was crisp against his cheek and smelled faintly of plastic; he still hadn’t washed his bedding since buying it. He was suddenly a little self-conscious about how flimsy his life in Tokyo must have looked. He had been so exhausted after work every night that he hadn’t even unpacked all of his boxes yet.  
Anyone might have thought that he was ready to leave the country at a moment’s notice. 
And the last person he wanted to think that was here, nearly over his futon. 
“Kawai sou,” Mitsuko whispered. She brushed a hand over Bastian’s hair, and he honestly thought he might float away to Heaven. Her hand was... shaking a little, but maybe she was just stressed out by how sick he was. “Did you feel sick at work today?” 
Bastian sighed. “A little.” 
Mitsuko shook her head. “A little?” 
“A... A lot.” 
Now it was her turn to sigh. “You work too hard, Bastian. You have so many new things in your life. It’s too much.” 
Bastian felt his lower lip start to quiver. 
“You have to be... kind to yourself,” Mitsuko whispered, with a wisdom and a sobriety that didn’t exactly match her personality. And yet, it seemed as familiar to him as her bouncy pigtails, her teasing smile. 
He reached up to take her hand in his, hoping she could see past the clamminess and appreciate his appreciation of her. She let out a low sound – it could almost have been described as a wince, but again, Bastian could have sworn it'd been a growl – and pulled her hand free, but immediately gave Bastian her other one. 
Odd. But before he could begin to question it, his ears were being treated to her soft voice again. 
“You shouldn’t be alone when you’re sick. Kazuhito is going to bring his extra futon,” she said. “So I can sleep here and be here when you wake up.” 
Bastian swallowed over the pain in his throat. He couldn’t believe he was spending the night with Mitsuko for the first time ever, and he was about ready to black out already. Not to mention he was probably going to sweat himself silly and spew his guts at least once during the night. 
“Th-thanks, cool girl.” 
“You’re welcome, crazy boy.” 
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Hey doc! Thanks for the lobotomy earlier, and the blood makeup, and thanks again for the replacement heart!
-🍄
Ja, of course! Hope it turns out vell and nothing goes wrong!
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sowhumpshaped · 15 days
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This is pretty random but when you say no parental figures or kids allowed, you mean as a whumpee or you don't prefer to include them at all? Have you ever written a parental whumper?
Also what inspires you to write, how do you maintain consistency?
And yes, what is your favorite whump trope?
~🍄
i mean i prefer not to include them at all! i have never written a parental whumper (but my ocs do usually have shitty parents but thats just implied 99% of the time- oh actually i have written a parental whumper but i dont... think i ever posted that)
i just... idk. my love for writing. i wanna write all the time and im very sad when i cant for some reason (the reason is usually other obligations, sleepiness or burnout). im not consistent w my writing but this year im trying to keep to my goal of writing at least 150 words every day!
favourite whump trope... mm... bad caretaker..... i love bad caretaker......
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gloomyronin · 4 months
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(📱) what's ur fave brand of energy drink? (And flavor :3) - 🍄
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Need I say more?
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roachmattea · 2 months
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puts on my sunglasses ummmm gideon nav style. not strong enough maybe <- on account of the bougenius….. last hope too maybe…
hi sunglasses this is very nice of you i do love bougeniesu and i am listeneineg yo last hope RIGHT NOW!!!!
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floydleechrp · 4 months
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Floy🅱️...do you think I could hide in your dorm 🥺 there's a spider in ramshackle and I'm about to burn it down cause I can't find it -🍄
WAHAHAHA a little spider?? Sure, mushroom fishie, you can stay with us...~ Azul might charge ya, though!
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justanidiotartist · 5 months
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Fujoshi is a Japanese term for female fans of BL manga, anime and novels
-🍄
Alright, then no, I'm not
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(Ignore my last ask about Home. I was very sleepy, i hadn't slept)
I have a theory I've been testing.
During the TV static, you can vaguely make out some talking. Now it sounds vaugly like singingmp4, but if that could be misheard.
Any idea what might be being said there ?
— 🍄
(no worries! for the record, i agree with you. all the creaking and banging gave it away, i think.) this may not be very exciting, but my honest answer is that it just sounds like stock radio chatter to me. for something a little more interesting though, @/imakestuff1987 did point out that you can see wally's eyes show up for a split second around the 40-second mark if you're paying attention.
either way, someone's watching out for you. isn't that swell?
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kirozai · 2 years
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-Mushroom Anon-
Imagine a God!Reader who changes the language settings to English because they’re learning it. In the self-aware phase, some of the chosen vessels can hear them talking to their family in their native tongue, but the acolytes have always assumed it was some sort of divine code (I headcanon that although the nations were inspired from real life locations, they only understand the language that we as the players establish). God!Reader sometimes quietly repeats voice lines to familiarize themselves with the sounds, but their followers are usually too lovesick to realize their strange accent.
Cue the first day where God!Reader is transported into Teyvat and their speaking skills are a bit off. Their listening is pretty decent and they can write a few sentences, but that odd pronunciation of theirs...
Oh, well. At least the Impostor AU won’t last long because no one other than the playable characters heard their voice. A lil’ difficult to mimic if you think about it.
AHHHH IMAGINE THEM TEACHING U ENGLISH 😭😭😭
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theredhotshot · 8 days
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I'm fine, just, tired, and stressed, but I'm fine, really, I swear, and share the damn cookies, if you horde them all then you might get cavities, don't think I forgot either, we have an orthodontist appointment on May 23rd, so brush your damn teeth
-🍄
Jeez, I didn't forget. I just dunno how I'm feeling about this whole braces thing
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