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yaut-jaknowit · 2 months

Note

Allergies. A male reader who absolutely SUFFERS during spring and summer, constantly using eye drops, nasle sprays, and even pills if it's bad enough. But is always too stubborn to take it. And it's like "oh I'm fine." Or "this is nothing I'm okay I promise" shit. And their partner has to force him to take them, and they admire the humans fight, but in the end. They end the human takes the medicine✨️

It's fine if you don't write this. I just really love your writing frfr

Allergies

Pairing: Wolf (Male Yautja) x M!Reader

Word Count: 1716

Summary: It's unfortunate that males trees are sought over than female trees. Because that leaves a good portion of the population to suffer during the spring time. Wolf knows a simple pill could relieve you of this agony and fetches the needed box. Yet, you brush it off. This is a hunter we're talking about. He doesn't get 'brushed off'.

Author Note: I've been blessed to not have allergies, not that I've noticed at least. That says something living in a place full of dust and wind storms.

Masterlist

Ao3

A fun fact you learned back in high school has always haunted you. Most trees that are planted in cities and the such are male. Female trees are known to produce fruit and flowers. Such things would create an unnecessary messy on sidewalks and roads. So, city planners decided to plant male trees instead to reduce the mess those trees would create.

They did not take in account the fact male trees produce pollen. The very thing causing you weeks of misery during the spring and summer. You can’t breathe right. Your eyes water constantly, blinding you at points.

It’s life though. You’ll live. Just got to grow some balls and power through.

Here you were, sitting on the porch of your apartment that faced the forest. A steaming cup of coffee in hand. Said drink gracious concocted by your loving partner. He was back inside after mumbling about grabbing you something that you didn’t quiet catch. You happily sipped away at the coffee held in your hands and looked out at the forest.

The sliding glass door behind you squeaked its call. Out stepped your hunk of a mate: Wolf. You smiled and leaned back in your chair, head tilted backwards to look at his towering frame. “Hey, love,” you greeted softly, voice a bit hoarse. You sniffled and rubbed at your running nose with the back of your hand.

Wolf scoffed and stopped shy of your plastic lawn chair. In his hand, he held out a box. You gave another sniffle and looked down at the small paper box. Allergy medicine. You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Wolf, I’ve told you. I’m okay,” you disregarded him and kicked your legs up on the footstool across from you.

There was a grunt behind you before the large Yautja moved in front of you.

Luck was on your side when you first moved into this little one-bedroom apartment. With the forest being your backyard on the second floor, you didn’t fret if anyone could see your mate. Neither did he attempt to conceal himself. There was no reason to. Which allowed him free roam of your apartment, including this dinky little balcony that’s offered to you.

Playfully, you smiled up at your lean mate. He threw one leg over your crossed limbs and stood tall. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled in your chest at the sight of him. The male was being stoic and stern with you.

After breaking away the outer, steel edge of his personality, you learned how soft he was on the inside. Ready to swoop in and protect you at a moment’s call. You would never trade him for anyone or anything.

A brow was raised due to his antics. “Love, I’m fine. This is nothing. I’m okay, I promise,” you cooed to Wolf. Yet, the Yautja wasn’t convinced. You sniffled snot back into your head and grinned a toothy smile at him. He grunt again and leaned down, fully getting into your face.

Those bright eyes on you weren’t anything like the predatory gaze he was attempting to use on you. You reached out and cupped his jaw, stroking his cheek with a thumb.

The box was offered, more like shoved into your face, again. Another roll of your eyes. If you had to name one thing about Wolf, it would be his persistence. The corner of your smile tilted up further.

You grabbed the box out of his hand. Hope grew in his eyes. He settled for the fact he had won. Then, you placed it on the side table and returned to sipping away your coffee. It was nearly gone at this point. “I told you, Wolf. I-“ you reeled your head back and sneezed into the crook of your elbow. The snot was wiped away with your shirt. “All good, see?”

Wolf groaned and let his head rolled forward, nearly smacking you with the large dome portion of his head. You placed a kiss there. “There, there,” you consoled at his lost. He huffed and pulled away.

Something alit in his eyes. The Yautja dipped his head, turned on his heel, and leapt down from the balcony.

Earlier in the relationship, you would’ve scrambled to see if he had made it safely. Knowing now how nimble and agile this hunk of muscle is, you stayed rooted in your chair.

He had something planned. You didn’t want to get wrapped up in it.

Despite the fact you knew late at night you would wake to regret this decision, you left your bedroom window open all night. With it being spring, the weather was perfect to allow the outside air to mingle with the indoor air.

Only for you wake to a completely stuffy nose. Your eyes watering so much you couldn’t see clearly to walk to the bathroom for tissues. You did stumble your way to the sink while gaining a couple new bruises along the way. You found yourself leaning against the counter with snot and tears dripping down your face.

A groan sounded from your scratchy, dried throat. This was a completely, horribly mistake on your part. You should’ve taken one second to even think of how you were going to wake up. Worst of all, you had work later today. Eight hours of dealing with stupid people like this. You groaned and rested your forehead on the cool laminate counter.

Today was going to suck.

After taking ten minutes to clean your disgusting face and orifices at the same time, you lumbered into the kitchen. The smell of fresh, brewing coffee wafting past the hardened snot still plugging your nose. You smiled softly to yourself and spotted a newly poured cup sitting on the kitchen counter, right in sight. Thank whoever brought Wolf to you.

Mentioned Yautja was standing at the kitchen table, hunched over while reading something. His gauntlet sat on the wooden table top, a screen hovering above the device. You walked over to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Morning, Wolfie.” You got a grumble both at the greeting and the name calling. If it was anyone else saying that to him, that person would no longer live.

You happily picked up the cup and leaned against the counter. From your spot, you admired Wolf. From what little he’s spoken about, he’s a highly ranked hunter on his planet. Something you liked to tease him about how your Wolfie is such a big bad predator. What ever did you do to do deserve a man like him? Well, whatever is it, you’re thankful to have done it.

Wolf pulled himself away from his work and took the two steps to crowd you against the cabinets. Not an ounce of fear entered your veins at the sight. No. Instead, a smile spilt your face as you gazed up at your man.

With your chest to his stomach, he pinned you there. You sniffled a couple of times during the silence and continued to drink away at your coffee. You already knew what he was trying to do without him showing his cards.

Persistent.

The box was pressed to your chest. Wolf leaned down and got into your face. “Take it,” he rumbled and stared directly into your eyes. You leaned forward and kissed the space between his mandibles.

“No.”

“Take the pauk-de medicine.” Oh, he growled this time!

Your pointer finger hooks on one of his bottom mandibles and gave it a tiny tug. “You’re cute when you get all demanding,” you cooed to the hunter. Wolf groaned with exasperation.

A light bulb appeared over Wolf’s head. Your eyes narrowed on him while watching him carefully. He raised one of his upper mandibles in an alien grin. Uh oh.

One moment, your coffee was resting in your hands. Then, it was gone! You whined as Wolf held it high above your head. You attempted to jump and take it back from your rude mate but he kept you trapped to the cabinets. The box still pressed to your chest.

“Take it and you’ll get this horrible tasting liquid back,” he argued and dipped his head down at the medicine he was holding to. Wolf knew your weak points. He did this on purpose! Being all sweet, making you coffee for every morning for the last year, just to do his bidding! You huffed and leaned far enough away to cross your arms.

“You’re so mean, Wolfie,” you mumbled and glared at the floor. You wiped at your leaking eyes. “Can’t believe you mess with a man’s coffee. You know nothing of human culture.”

All he gave you was a deadpanned look, face going slack. He tapped a claw against the box, creating a clicking noise. You huffed again, looking into bright eyes to see if that would get him to relent first. Yet, with the threat of your coffee being taken, you sighed and tilted your head back. You flipped your hand, palm up, waiting for the box to fall into your hand. “Fine,” you relented and dragged out the word. “Give me the damned box.”

A large smirk graced your mate’s face. The medicine was dropped into your open palm. A chaste, closed mandible kiss was pressed to your cheek. Wolf stepped back but kept the coffee out of reach. Smart little sucker.

You grabbed a glass then filled it up with just enough water to down a pill. A pout clouded your expression as you looked upon Wolf. “There, happy?” His grin had yet to fade.

Wolf leaned in and rubbed his forehead to your temple with a purr beginning in his chest. The sour expression soon fell away to a soft smile. “Alright, alright, you big teddy bear,” you laughed and patted cheek. “I’ve got work later tonight so I’ve got a few things to accomplish beforehand. Give me my coffee back.”

The cup was returned to your hand. “Don’t know how you can drink that c’jit,” he rumbled with a sneer.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, love. Now, don’t mess with a man’s coffee again,” you threatened your mate with a grin. He chortled gave a final purr before stepping away.

“Oh, hey. I can breath again!” There was a grunt of exasperation.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Wolf

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goldenempyrean · 2 years

Note

Sick reader that also has bad allergies (high pollen count that day) with Nat? :o Thank you for writing these great fics!

A Bad Combination

Thankyou!! Im sorry this isn’t longer, its just a drabble but hopefully you still enjoy :)

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“Oh darling, you need to stop rubbing at your eyes, I know they itch.” Natasha sighed as she laid a damp cloth over your fevered forehead.

You really did have some rotten luck, you’d managed to come down with a cold just as all the spring flowers had begun to bloom. This had resulted in you being confined to bed by your overly-protective girlfriend who was insisting on staying by your side.

Your chest gave a crackly sound as you breathed, causing Natasha brows to furrow with worry.

“You’re due for another dose of meds.” Her phone buzzed with the reminder she’d set, “You gonna be a good girl and take them properly this time?” She asked, giving you a stern look, despite her soft tone it still didn’t mask her annoyance from earlier.

That morning Natasha had tried to get you to take your medicine, and well, you didn’t exactly take this well. You’d pushed her away, burying yourself below your duvet. It had taken her awhole 10 minutes of bribing before you poked your head back above the blanket.

You hadn’t noticed it but Natasha had poured out small cup of DayQuil for you to take, along with 2 pills.

“Here.” Natasha grabbed your attention and held out your medicine, “Please take them for me baby.”

You gave sniffle but did as you were told, making a face of disgust as you swallowed the pills along with the the orange liquid.

“Thank you.” Nat leaned over to press a kiss to your lips, they were slightly sticky from the medicine but she didn’t care. She didn’t really care about getting sick either.

You smiled, enjoying the affection. However your enjoyment only seemed to last a second before your nose twitched tellingly.

“Hhuh’tshiew! Hep’tshhhiew! HhH- HHiii’tshiew!” You sniffled before going to rub your eyes again.

Nat’s hand gently slapped yours, reminding you of her earlier statement. “Don’t rub them, those meds will kick-in soon I promise.”

“Hh’tshhoo!” Your body seemed to have other ideas as your eyes began to grow watery again.

“You should try and get some more sleep darling.” Nat cooed, readjusting the cloth on your forehead, “You’ll feel better, cmon.” She moved your pillow and helped you slide down into the duvet.

You let yourself get comfy and looked up at her shiny green eyes, “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Of course, where else would I be?”

#sickfic #snzfic #marvel sickfic #whump #fluffy #marvel snzfic #mcu #snzfuck #femreader #snz #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff sickfic #sick!reader x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff snzfic

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awesomesaucem · 10 months

Text

My Tallest

Dib Membrane X Invader Zim

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,432

Warnings: Sexual content and mildly dubious consent.

Other Tags: Blow Jobs, Power Dynamics, Dom/sub, Master/Servant, Angst

Summary: It’s Summer. Normally this meant Zim wasn’t quite as angry at the world, but this summer’s heat was particularly unforgiving. Sticky and miserable, he contemplates his place in the world since his long abandoned mission leaves him feeling empty. What else is there to do but look for a sense of purpose?

Read it on AO3!

A/n: Here’s my shameful idea I’ve had for a while now since I’m still rusty with writing and a total newbie when it comes to writing smut. I have a bunch of one shots planned for a bunch of fandoms that I think would be great practice for my slow burn. I tried to keep things close to the canon with my own little creative liberties. Takes place way after the show so both boys are adults and Zim has not-quite-defected from the Tallests. More like was abandoned and doesn’t know what to do other than assimilate into human culture. Enjoy!

Usually summer was Zim’s favorite out of all of the stupid earth seasons. Spring was always so wet and disgusting with new pollen coating everything and a thin layer of yellow grime that made him sneeze for days. Winter just made the whole planet sleepy. Humans somehow didn’t inherit the ability to hibernate alongside their mammalian counterparts – actually it seemed almost all animals in earth's nature slept for the winter months, except for humans. Unfortunately for him, that meant he was forced to spend the same insufferable months indoors. Any task outside would leave him half-frozen and trapped with a dozen humans in whatever errand demanded his attention. GIR and his circuits loved the snow. The powdery flourish that rained down from the clouds always got a more illicit reaction than their warmer counterparts. It was always a struggle to drag him back inside but at least the cold did him some good. Fall was tolerable. Summer heat paved the way for hayrides and Halloween when they would run around hoping to scare each other intentionally either from works of fiction or simply screaming in each other's faces. It was nice for Zim to take a break from it for a change. These were all acceptable. The bitter winds that would cut through with no warning and chilling him to the bone only to vanish suddenly as it appeared, were not.

Most of earth's weather came and left without any sort of reason. Location mattered most of the time-down to even states and provinces deferring in climate, but it rarely obeyed the rules humans made themselves. The heat was biting long before the calendar said it was ever time, and Zim learned from all his years spent on the pathetic rock that it would stay long after the next season was falsely announced. Even summer, Zim’s favorite among the seasons, had its faults. The insects he once hoped to relate to became most insufferable. Wasps, ants, and mosquitoes seemed to target him especially no matter the crowd or repellent almost as if they saw him as a threat. Maybe they did. Zim could be very threatening.

Today, however, he did not care very much for summer. Usually content in taking GIR for a walk or sightseeing, he was rewarded with suffocating humidity that left him sticky and sweating with no hope of relief. With the air conditioning as high as it would go and every fan in the house turned directly to him, he dozed on the sofa fanning himself. The heat almost stole his energy as even the lazy flicking of his wrist tired him out. Maybe his brain was slowly cooking. He’ll accept anything to get out of this heat. GIR somehow didn’t seem to notice the misery and was fairly content making noises into the box fan sending mushy chips and cheese breath directly into Zim’s face.

“GIR, can you find literally anything else to do right now?” He begged, not even able to turn his head to the side and speak to him directly.

The only response he received was GIR chanting “wawawa“ in various pitches and giggling at the distortion caused by the spinning blades.

He opened his mouth to spout yet another pathetic plea to his servant, but was interrupted by his phone buzzing from where it was wedged in between the cushions. Cursing, he scrambled to retrieve it from the prison followed by crumbs of every kind. God, how long has that stuff been here? He really needed to clean this thing more often. Not even bothering to look at the screen, he answered-only one human had this number after all.

“Greetings, Dib – stink,” he groaned.

“Get dressed, I’m at the pool!” Was loudly heard over the joyous laughter and splashing of the town’s children enjoying their summer. Disgusting.

“Why would I do that, pig?” With shut eyes, he questioned. A bead of sweat reached his temple.

“Because it’s hot as balls out today?” Correct. “And the heat index is 107.” Ugh. It was 102 this morning. “Plus you’re bored so hurry up!”

“You don’t know that. I could be busy, you know!” Flecks of mechanical fluids fluttered out from the fan. Looking at him just made him spit harder. “Very, very busy.” A particularly shrill scream followed by a splash sent Zim’s phone away from his antenna, which was admittedly difficult. All this sweating made the perfect substance to plaster the screen to the side of his face. He grimaced and wiped it on his shirt before holding it just above his cheek.

“– here already!” Dib shouted over the line.

“What?”

“I said hurry up and get here already!”

The line clicked and the call ended. The smeet hung up! Elongating his spine and reaching out with all limbs to cat stretch he let out a frustrated groan, then swung his legs over the side of the sofa to free himself to stand.

“GIR, put on your disguise. I guess we’re going swimming.”

“Oh wahawa,” sang GIR.

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The city pool was somehow even more crowded than it sounded over the phone. So many humans packed into one place with damp children everywhere you go with Dorito fingers and juice-stained faces. If this was anyone’s idea of fun, they should babysit GIR who loved the pool for that exact reason. Unfortunately, the chlorine messed with his sensors and he kept getting stuck in the jets. Then the city started enforcing their “no dogs” policy-not that they actually followed their stupid rules. Management didn’t understand GIR was much safer here than home alone. Unsupervised. He suppressed a shudder. Zim hated swimming now even more than he did as a smeet back when he was forced to learn as part of his intense military training. Of course water wasn’t used, but something about flailing in a glorified bath with a bunch of strangers just didn’t sound appealing to him. He still managed to pass that portion, just barely, during training. His awkward bobbing-turned-breast stroke only served to keep him from drowning in emergencies and his commander was feeling particularly forgiving that day. Human school wasn’t that much different if he thought about it. At least as a smeet, his arrogance blinded him to the ridicule of his classmates. High school was kinder in the sense he could blend in more. It was more forgiving to his pride than it was to stand out. No longer an awkward teen, he blossomed into an even more awkward adult. At least he was quieter now.

Dib, however, flourished. His hyperactivity in his boyhood afforded him the energy to seek out a physical outlet. Since Zim’s mission was dismissed, he was no longer a threat to Earth; no longer something to waste time on. Now by day he was a personal trainer and even started his own paranormal investigative podcast. It actually was decently popular – he even had merch with his smug little logo on it. It was pathetic really, but Dib would never know of the T-shirt hiding in the back of Zim’s closet.

“Zim!” Called a voice somewhere in the sea of people. Squinting, he could just barely make out Dib standing and flailing his arms around. His continued annoyance started to attract attention as everyone here wondered just who this psychopath was. Zim raced over quickly, stepping over pool goers and trying not to slip on the wet concrete until eventually he reached the offender to clamp a hand tightly around his mouth.

“Cease and desist, you cretin!” He hissed. “I did what you asked. Why must you humiliate me in the process?”

Dib laughed as if Zim told a joke which is odd, because he did not. “Lighten up, Zim. It’s summer vacation!” He exclaimed, prying the hand away. Reaching behind him, Dib pulled a can of some beverage and handed it to him. While he didn’t care much for carbonated drinks, alcohol or otherwise, ice clung to the aluminum, providing him some relief from the bitter heat.

“Why is it called summer vacation if the only thing different is the weather?” He asked no one in particular. “I mean you aren’t in school right? What vacation is there to be had? And why not acknowledge the vacations taken in other seasons for that matter?” Dib’s friends all stared at him. Someone might have coughed. For a moment, Zim was the new kid again weaving through much taller crowds trying to pretend to be human. Pretending to be likable; to blend in unsuccessfully. But Dib smiled.

“You’re right, it’s just a day at the pool. But that can be a kind of vacation too, right?”

Grumbling in response, he cracked open the mystery can and tossed back a swig without so much as a glance to the label. Expecting some shitty light beer or seltzer, he was surprised to be drinking some kind of fruity canned cocktail. It was definitely alcoholic, but pleasantly sweet. There was no complaint to be had. In no time at all, he had crushed several of the provided beverages favoring the ‘strawberry-a-rita’ flavor. Whatever that was. He wouldn’t even have registered the time if not for an alarm on his phone reminding him to reapply his skin paste. It took some time to develop it, but he was proud of himself for once. Something that protected him against the sun's harsh rays as well as creating a thin, yet sturdy, hydrophobic layer. To others, it appeared he was just using regular human sunblock. He honestly didn’t even need to reup since he was still firmly seated outside of the water, but he would rather be greasy than literally melting away if he did eventually decide to get in.

“Zim’s got the right idea,” Dib observed rather loudly from the water, directing everyone’s attention his way once again. “No melanoma for him.” Dib wasn’t one to think too much about his own skin care, but his clients had children who frequented the neighborhood pool and he had to set a good example.

Wiping the residue on his trunks, he sneered and dipped back into the cooler to retrieve another can ignoring the hoots and whistles clamoring from the pool. They all seemed to be loudly reacting to Dib who must have emerged from the surface. Peeking up, he saw the water and sweat alike that shimmered like fractured light on his dusky skin revealing sinewy muscles that peered through the streams. Zim’s can hissed at the claw sliding to pop its tab. Further splashing and laughter faded to the back of his mind as the plat plat of Dib’s sodden feet drew nearer.

“That’s your third one,” he whispered, nodding at the collection of empties on the table.

“You’re counting my drinks? I thought this was ‘Summer Vacation’, was it not?”

“No, nothing like that, I’m just glad you like them. It was between those or Ranch Waters, but I know you don’t like tequila.”

Zim scrunched his nose. He did not. “It is an adequate poolside beverage,” he muttered into his can.

“Membrane!” Shrieked the lifeguard, pulling them out of their bubble. “How many times do I have to tell you!”

The boys followed her pointed gaze as well as that of almost everyone on the South end of the pool. It seemed GIR had found the jets again.

Dib huffed an annoyed sigh. “And how many times do I have to tell you he’s not my dog?” He shouted across the water, looking expectantly toward Zim who was deflating as the moments went on.

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The walk to Dibs house was surprisingly comfortable given the circumstances. GIR was rebooting just as he did every other time he’d gotten into too many chemicals and eventually kicked out for the day. That dumb robot never learned. Between the two of them, they reached Dib’s house without a thought, simply walking and talking about nothing in particular and halfway there they took turns carrying (aka dragging) the unconscious bot. Dib was the one to plop him down on the living room couch before heading upstairs to change with Zim following close behind. All things considered, they were each other’s oldest friends which made any amount of self consciousness shrivel up years ago. Even if they didn’t have all six years of gym class together, Zim still spent most Summers on the Membrane couch. Sleeping alone in an empty house got old a lot quicker than he thought. He took his usual perch on his flaking leather desk chair while Dib changed out of his trunks and into a pair of faded blue jeans; both pairs of shoes and socks lay forgotten at the door along with Zim’s wig. Somehow the topic of conversation escalated to whatever diminutive little projects they each had going on. Dib was more than eager to ramble on and on about the latest pre-workout flavor his gym had stocked up on recently. Something or other with berries. Zim wasn’t really paying attention. But then it was his turn in conversation.

“What about you, Zim?” Dib questioned. “Anything crazy planned for this year?”

“Not really,” Zim answered, occupying himself with the various posters on the wall. Some things really do not change. “Not anymore.”

He cringed and wished he could retract the words as soon as they left his mouth. Irk was an unspoken off-limits topic between the two of them. Don’t ask, don’t tell as they say. It was just one of those things. Dib knew it was a sore subject, but other than the childish fights they had as kids, he didn’t know much about it as a whole other than his juvenile energy was wasted on it. Years spent chasing and planning used up on a mission that would never come to fruition. After Zim had finally (finally) given up on taking over Earth, he was lost. Without Zim, Dib could redirect his efforts to something more productive. Without Irk, Zim was nothing.

“So what was it like?” Dib pondered aloud, ignoring the inarticulate rule. They both knew exactly what he meant.

Zim fiddled with his hoodie strings. “Which part?”

“Oh, all of it I guess. How did it feel to be a part of something bigger than yourself?” Wow. What a question. The Irken Armada was something he thought about every waking moment. He was programmed to. His very reason for being was thanks to his Tallests. Every breath was a gift for the Armada. Every day a reward and a privilege. Existing for the Tallests transcended human emotion; it transcended words. It was unlike anything he could’ve experienced or hoped to experience again. Zim told him this much.

“After a while, you learn you never really were meant to be an individual. Your wants and needs were irrelevant as an Irken. You just become part of the collective,” he stated.

Dib coughed uncomfortably.

“That’s, er, disturbing,” he offered, laughing; sobering up quickly in the silence that followed. “So your whole life has been for someone else?”

“Yes.”

“That's just so horrible! You basically worshiped these people!”

“Yes.” He echoed, looking up with solemn eyes. “The Tallests gave us life, a purpose. Every Irken was sworn to them.”

“So like,” Dib struggled to understand. “They have omniscience? They literally create life?”

Zim’s synthetic eyebrows furrowed.

“No, they would put in a request at the smeetery for a number of soldiers,” he thought. “Actually they would put in an order for the request.”

“So someone else did it?” He squished the last drops of water from his hair as he listened.

“After they were ordered by a Tallest, yes.”

“But then they train the armies then? Or supervised the plans?”

“No, that’s what the generals and war technicians were for.” He huffed with the same air of condescension he would have if he were explaining how a block fits in a square-shaped hole.

“Did they do anything directly?”

“Oh, yes!” His eyes lit up with a distant admiration. “We were allowed to worship them freely and bring them gifts from our missions. Uhm, I was allowed to stand next to them once. It was truly one of the greatest moments of my life.”

Dib snorted. “Wait, just standing next to your leader, who doesn’t even do anything, was the greatest moment of your life?” He laughed.

“No, I said it was one of the greatest.” He brought up a knee to hug to his chest. “And my Almighty Tallests did plenty. I owe them everything I am.”

Dib couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He always thought of the Irkens as some intense dictatorship but this was more like religion. A cult really. He stood to look at Zim directly.

“You do realize how crazy that sounds right? You’re totally brainwashed.” Zim stood to meet him.

“I am not! The Tallests are the smartest and greatest Irkens which is why they are more than fit to rule!“

“And what makes them so great huh? How did they end up in charge?“

“Well t-they,“ he stammered.

“You really can’t say? Don’t tell me it’s because they’re literally the tallest Irkens.”

He was met with silence.

“Oh my God, you leave leadership up to a height lottery.”

Zim spoke flatly and sternly, almost dangerously offended. “Height among Irken elites is a sign of status. Something akin to your human intelligence quotient points.”

“Well, how tall are these Irken elites? Maybe I could be your ruler, Zim.” Dib puffed his chest and straightened his back. Stepping closer, he towered over him.

“You could never!” Zim spat as he struggled to take in the epic size of the human in front of him. As kids, only Dib's hair gave him a slight height advantage, but now he had a good foot on Zim who’s mouth suddenly had gone dry. “There is more to Irken leadership than height,” he grumbled, standing down and diverting his gaze. Dib, of course, was loving this.

“No really!” He laughed. “How much taller do I have to be to allow you to worship me?” It was meant as a joke. Yet the thoughts being forced into his head were anything but funny. After a beat, Zim genuinely humored him.

“Since I am no longer a member of the Armada, as horrible as it is, I no longer answer to the Tallests.” He slowly circled Dib, considering his stature among other things. “That being said, you are currently the tallest being I know, so,” he thought, shifting on his toes. “Your current height is sufficient.”

“Oh my god, really? That’s all it takes?” Dib’s hands went to his hair in disbelief. “Oh man, think of the stupid little rivalry we had before. I just needed to be taller than you!”

“Not taller,” Zim corrected. “Tallest.” Still reeling, giddy, Dib wasn’t paying attention.

“Sorry Zim. I can’t hear you from all the way up here. You’re going to have to speak up,” he snarked, bristling past Zim.

“Tallest!” He whimpered loudly, casting the room in a blanket of stunned silence. Both boys stared, a flush of muted pink dusting their cheeks.

“I was just kidding, man,” Dib sat down on the bed, taking his turn to look up at the Irken. “I don’t want to rule you, we’re friends.”

“You joke about my reason for life, Dib-filth . You asked a question and I answered. That’s how your stupid human conversations work, right?” His embarrassment quickly turned to anger as he shot his eyes up in defiance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know–didn’t mean.” He couldn’t find the words, but Zim wouldn’t let him escape so easily. He strode forward to crowd Dib’s space, throwing his hands to the comforter with Dib right in between.

“You didn’t know what, pig? You’ve had 25 stinking, inferior Earth cycles to know exactly what you mean.” Wide-eyed, Dib watched as Zim sunk to the floor at his feet with an impassioned sort of glint in his eyes that was terrifying yet incredibly alluring. This was a look Zim only wore in Dib’s wildest fantasies. One he wasn’t sure was even physically possible for him to wear.

“Then what are you-”

“Silence, you pathetically tall worm. You wanted to know what it takes to rule over Zim and now that you’ve found it, you aren’t satisfied?” He rubbed his cheek on Dib’s knee like a cat marking its scent. “As you stupid humans like to say,” He leaned just enough to eliminate the remaining existing space, forcing Dib to spread his knees further. “You've opened this can of worms, human. Now it’s your turn to lie in it.”

“That’s not – Zim seriously, I was just playing,” Dib stammered, turning a satisfying shade of red as Zim dipped down between his thighs and feigned a gasp of understanding.

“You were playing? Then let’s play, oh Tallest Dib.” His antennae explored to taste the air between them causing him to scoff. “Lie to me if you must. But I promise your pheromones don’t have that luxury.” He pressed further. The liquor-loosened tongue came out of hiding to trace just the hint of outline of Dib’s stiffening cock; a trail of saliva dampening the denim there. Dib flinched.

“Zim-ah! We don’t have to do this, you don’t actually…” he trails off, mesmerized by the absolute filthy show Zim was putting on nuzzling his half-hard cock in his jeans like it was the only thing he’d ever want. Dib gripped the sheets half terrified and the most turned on he's ever been in his life.

“Dib,” he groaned, peering up at the human with utter fire. “Soldiers have either succumbed to war or ended their own miserable lives from their Tallests’ absence. Service and loyalty is what I was bred to do and if nothing else,” Dib shivered at the hot breath between his thighs. “I was damn good at it.”

“What are you trying to say?” He panted. “For now, you are my Tallest.” Dib watched his tongue dart out once again to wet his lips. “That means you tell me what to do. Please.” The waver in his voice affected Dib more than he was comfortable with. Childhood nemesis turned friend and now whatever this was? How would this even work? Alien biology aside, this was horribly wrong and he needs to stop this now before it gets even further out of hand. If it wasn’t too late already. If Zim wanted this half as bad as he was implying, Dib had zero control over the situation, service programming be damned. Dib might be the “Tallest” or whatever, but he knew Zim held all the cards. They both knew. It all came down to who would crack first and Dib had an idea that it would be himself. Trying to formulate a plan became increasingly difficult with the insisting presence at his groin. He can’t say he didn’t try.

“Z-Zim are you- fuck.” A particularly languid lick with the flat of his tongue broke his concentration. Against his will, Dib was now fully hard and far too gone to stop it.

“You know, for a Tallest you're not very smart.” He replaced his tongue with his much firmer hands that gripped and squeezed overtop the fabric pulling a shaking whine from his throat. “You act like you don’t want this.” Dib’s hips bucked and stuttered at Zim’s meager ministrations. “You’re already falling apart, look at you!” He laughed. “On Irk you would be the superior mind. Strong willed enough to lead armies who would never give your word a second thought. Mindless obedience at your command, Dib. What will you do with it?”

Dib felt like he was losing his mind. Never in his life did he think he’d ever see Zim on his knees speaking such filthy things. He was barely touching him but here he was; hardly able to string enough words together to form a coherent sentence.

“What will you do?” He repeated. Zims own cheeks were dusted a pink almost as pretty as his words. Together they sat in a sort of silence just considering each other. Zims gaze was unfaltering and Dib finally realized he was expecting an actual answer. He could end this if he wanted. Just a few strong words would put this whole obscure moment behind them. Zim would listen to whatever he said, do whatever he wanted. So what did he want? His confidence found him when he spoke.

“If you're going to do this, you’re going to do it right.” He releases his white knuckled grip on the sheets and with mindful hands, undoes the fly of his jeans. Zim’s own hands are heedlessly shoved to the side as Dib carefully pulls his cock, angry and blushing, from his boxers to settle directly in his face. Wide eyed, Zim stared up in disbelief but acceptance at both boys seemingly calling each other’s bluffs. “This is what you wanted, right?” He gave himself a few strokes. “To serve? To please?”

Zim could only nod and stare.

“Then get on with it. Open up, soldier.”

Obeying, Zim showed off his glistening tongue, sticking out on display along with his blunted teeth. The tint to his cheeks deepened as he opened his mouth wide. He peered up with a look that would appear to anyone else as obedience, but Dib knew better. He was quite familiar with this look. Hiding behind obedience, Dib could make out the barest hint of defiance. Of a challenge. Even in this moment of vulnerability, between the two of them there was a shred of uncertainty. Pushing past his reservations, he fit his fully hard cock against his tongue, giving it a few taps for good measure.

“You want to serve? You want to be good?”

Zims only response was a hot, breathy moan through his open mouth.

“Then prove it.”

The last of his resolve crumbled as Zim surged forward enveloping Dib in his mouth; tongue gliding against the hardened flesh. Dib couldn’t help but reach out and shove his head down even further earning him a satisfying choke. Not to be outdone, Zim buried his nose in the dark tuft of hair in front of him and swallowed.

Bottoming out in Zim’s tight throat, Dib was reduced to a stuttering mess. His canting hips lurched up into the pleasure consuming him as Zim licked and sucked in earnest. The soft keening moans and wet slurping were the only sounds to be heard before Dib had enough. Zim was enjoying this far too much. Roughly, he tore him off with an obscene pop! while they both struggled to catch their breath and his thumb reached out to mop up the string of dribble that clung to his lip.

“You’re getting sloppy,” he said, stroking himself much easier with the copious amount of slobber Zim insisted on tossing around.

“‘M sorry,” Zim panted beneath him, following each movement with rapid fascination and splaying his palms flat to his thighs.

“No you aren’t,” he nudged his hips forward into the silken heat before him. Zim had the courtesy to take his time, to savor his instruction. Gently, he urged the head past his swollen lips with a far too generous tongue. Kitten-licking proved faultless as he lapped at it, earning a breathless noise from above. Sucking and benevolent, he resumed. With no hands and more intention he hollowed his cheeks and sank down further engulfing him in incandescence. Zim focused on his breathing more than anything. As long as he could keep his throat from spasming, things should be enjoyable for the both of them. The shameless moans and huffs did little to remind him of his task at hand, however. As much as he’d hate to admit, each and every sound ricocheting off the walls made him more and more eager to please. Weary of his teeth, he licked and sucked and sopped up each bead of precum he was awarded as he continued his assignment. If Gaz’s TV wasn’t as loud as it was, the whole house would’ve heard her brother’s undoing in the next room. Mantras of “fuck” and “god, yes” echoed off each surface to chant for their endurance.

Before long, the fire pooling in his gut reached its peak as he came with a roaring groan, holding Zim’s head tightly in place so as to not spill a single precious drop. Ropes upon ropes sputtered down Zim’s throat one after another which he greedily swallowed down like the good little soldier he was. He hummed at the taste which sent vibrating shockwaves up the pulsating shaft causing Dib to flinch away with a hiss. But Zim wasn’t quite done yet; he wasn’t about to let his prey go. With a much softer tongue, he laved at the slit delving inside to retrieve any missed spend- it was his prize to claim and it would not escape him.

Once satisfied, he released the belt loops he hadn't realized he was holding from his demanding grasp and carefully pulled away from the tender, softening flesh. Flushed, yet level headed, he peered upward at Dib who was nowhere near as coherent. Overheated and overstimulated, he had no choice but to lay back in rapture; encompassed in post-orgasm haze. Never did he think a simple blow job could be that incredible or that Zim would be the creature to give it. That such a being of destruction could also be one of depravity.

“Was that to your liking, My Tallest?” His voice was gruff with both use and lust as his shoulders heaved, panting. Dib propped himself up on his elbows to at least try to have some semblance of sanity. His hair stuck up in all directions giving him a mockery of a dark halo and his voice came almost as dark.

“To my liking?” He parroted, dazed.

Zim stared.

“You nearly sucked out my soul through my dick and you want to know if you did a good job?”

Finally sitting all the way up, Dib tucked himself back away, chuckling to himself in disbelief.

“Yes, Zim. You did a very good job. Your, heh, Tallest is quite impressed.”

Of all the time exchanged, it was this moment that caused Zim to be well and truly bashful. Shoving himself away from the spread knees in front of him, Zim leapt to his feet and tried to compose himself; cheeks cherry reddening at the praise.

“Of course I did well, pathetic worm-smeet. My superior Irken flesh had to demonstrate a pleasure you would not have found elsewhere.” He tried his best to adjust himself discreetly, but remained just as successful as Dib was at hiding his amusement. “You jest, but I’ve seen the vile ‘pornography’ you watch in your free time, human. I will never understand the appeal of a group of “backdoor sluts” or how there are somehow nine installments.”

Dib flushed abashedly. “When did you snoop around on my laptop?” He shrieked.

“Know thy enemy, beast,” he shrugged, unperturbed, moving toward the door.

“You’re leaving already?” Dib cautiously asked, disappointment evident in his voice.

“Well, yeah,” he shifted on his toes. “The ritual is over, yes? Am I forgetting something?” He narrows his eyes. “Are you being untruthful about your satisfaction?”

“No! Nothing like that, I just,” he combs his damp hair out of his face. He really was getting more disgusting by the minute. “You didn’t, you know. Er…” he flounders.

“Achieve orgasm? No. I didn't. But I don’t understand how that’s relevant.” He toes on his shoes and stuffs his socks into his pocket to deal with later.

“Would you like to? Usually this sort of thing is mutual.” This time he managed to hide the nervousness in his voice. “Traditionally,” he added.

It was such a bold question. One Zim was ready to dismiss if it weren’t for the steady ache he felt. He contemplated giving himself over to a Tallest entirely-the pleasure that would hold. The emotional gratification. Was he really about to grant himself such pleasure?

“No. I’ll be fine.” The air shifted through the open door giving them both the grace to breathe. “Bye, Dib.

Much later in the night, two friends sat alone in their beds biting back urgent moans and painting their sheets and bellies; replaying the events of the evening in their minds until there was nothing left for their bodies to give. Spent and exhausted, they would each stare at their ceilings and think independently together the same refrain they’ve uttered for years:

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I’ll tell him.

#iz #invader zim #zadr #one shot #fanfic #zim and dib romance #dib membrane #zim x dib #dib x zim #my fics

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fuckin-sick-bih · 1 year

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"Just" Allergies

Fandom: Stranger Things (I guess Eddie Lives AU?) Summary: The pollen count is high, Eddie forgot his allergy meds, but he just feels... especially bad for some reason. Steve thinks he's caught a spring cold on top of the pollen flare. (Steve lowkey has the kink) CW: Mess Word Count: 2.7k (I tried to keep it short okay? I did...) MINORS DNI

Make sure you take your allergy meds today, kid. News said pollen is high.

Wayne had even reminded him and Eddie, like the damn fool he was, had still forgotten. Now he was paying the price. Even sitting in the stuffy theater, Eddie still felt like his eyes were itchy and swollen and the persistent tickle from his consistently leaking nose was torturous. And his throat felt like something was scratching it. Rubbed by sandpaper and just uncomfortable. Especially torturous while trying to run his campaign.

He brought his hand up to rub subtly at his dripping nose with a sniff, metal rings on his left hand scraping roughly against the rims of his nostrils. His abused nose was bright pink from the day of just such repeated actions but not a single member dared comment least Eddie unfurl his wrath upon them.

Right now, he wanted nothing more than to go home, pop some allergy meds, shower, and maybe fall asleep watching some movie on the couch. Either that or fall asleep to the radio.

After the whole… Upside Down, Eddie couldn’t do silence anymore. It suffocated him.

A voice started to filter into his congested brain, “Eddie? Eddie!? Earth to Eddie!”

Of course, it was Dustin…

Eddie sniffed thickly and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Yes, oh Gurdis, our folk hero wizard?” he asked dramatically with an attempt at a smile for the freshie. Said smile flickered as the tickle in his sinuses began to work its way down.

“It’s just… we’ve been trying to ask if you wanted to call it here for the night, but you didn’t seem to hear us… You’ve been pretty distracted today. Is everything okay?” Henderson asked softly and Eddie felt his body tense.

Was he that obvious? “I’m f-ihhh” His breathing hitched, and Eddie sat up from where he’d been resting his chin on his hand behind his dungeon master screen. His chest expanding and deflating a few times as he held up a finger to indicate ‘one second’.

“Hiih- ihh! IxXG’HT!” He pinched his nose between his pointer finger and thumb of his opposite hand. “Ugh fuck…” There was pressure mounting in his head with every one of those stifled sneezes he’d done today.

As he turned to look at the rest of the Hellfire club, Eddie saw concerned faces and he pouted slightly. “I’m fine.” He said grumpily and rubbed roughly at his nose again with his ringed fingers. “Just allergies.” Another, thick sniffle punctuated his statement before he continued. “Fine, I guess we’ll wrap up here and continue next time.”

More concerned faces exchanged looks. Eddie never ended Hellfire early. Never. Really, Eddie was starting to feel like utter shit. His nose was running like a faucet now and Eddie really just needed to go home. “I’ll see you guys later.” He began to pack up his things, fumbling slightly in his rush to get moving and get home.

Everyone began to disperse except for the runts it seemed. They only came closer as Eddie was shoving things into his bag at top speed, wrist pressed up against his nose to try and stem the stream. Sniffling could only do so much for him now.

“Eddie? Do you need anything?” Mike asked softly and adjusted his bag on his shoulder, making Eddie stall as he glanced at the kids.

“Yeah, we can bike to the store and drop some things off if-” Dustin started only for Eddie to promptly cut them off before Lucas could join in.

Eddie jerked the zipper closed on his own bag and threw his bag over his shoulder, wincing ever so slightly as it pulled at the still tender and pink scars on his middle. “You runts are cute, but I don’t need anything other than like… a handful of Benadryl, a shower, and a bed.” He joked, ruffling Dustin’s curls much to the younger boy’s distain. “Don’t worry about me, kids. I’ll survive. I always do.”

It came out more… hollow than Eddie had intended for it to, but he still turned on his heel and left with a wave. “See you freaks Monday!” He called, fighting the urge to cough after the yell.

It wasn’t until he got into his van with a shiver that he thought… That can’t be normal. Shivering and coughing weren’t part of his usual allergy routine. Speaking of allergy routine…

“Ehh- IGH’XTSh! Hah! k’HXXt! Ehh…eh? EPT’SHZXXGHT! Fugk m’be!” Eddie shouted in utter frustration and despair, slamming the steering wheel with his open palm. He felt like garbage.

Garbage left to rot under the hot sun. Fuck maybe he was warm… The walk from school to van had been a swim through the pollen, but this didn’t even feel like just allergies anymore. He wanted to just lean his head back and cry, but he held back, started the van, cranked the heat, and pulled out of the school parking lot.

When he arrived home, Eddie dragged himself from his van to head inside. Wayne was already out for the night and Eddie had the place to himself, thank god. He was fumbling through the medicine cabinet when a knock at the door startled him and had him dropping the pill bottles in his arms. “Jesus!” He swore loudly, coughing into his elbow afterwards.

Once the pill bottles were set back on the sink’s edge, Eddie went to go see who was at the door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with his wrist, rubbing said wrist against his jeans afterwards. “Hello?” he said, cracking open the door to find none other than Steve Harrington.

“Hey, Eddie, uh- hope this isn’t too weird. Dustin radioed to say you were acting… weird and to bring you some stuff and check on you.” Steve admitted and tilted his head a little as he took in Eddie’s complexion. “You look like shit.”

Eddie let the door swing the rest of the way open and stepped back to invite Steve in. “Wow you really kdow how to charb a guy, Harri’gtod.” He said, cringing at the sound of his own voice.

Steve gave him a genuine smile after that, “Well, I’ve been known to flirt.” He teases but does reach out to grab Eddie’s arm after he’s closed and locked the door. “Talk to me.” His voice is quiet as he directs Eddie to the couch to sit with him.

If Eddie were a stronger man, maybe he wouldn’t have teared up and started crying in front of his crush but god he felt so fucking awful… He falls face first into Steve’s chest and outright sobs.

Steve drops the bag of goodies on the floor to lean forward and wrap his arms around Eddie to comfort him. The crying does nothing to help his congestion and Eddie has to fish the bandana out of his back pocket to blow his nose before he can even attempt talking to Steve.

“Nose won’t stop running, feel so fucking congested though… eyes are itchy and swollen…” Eddie pauses to wipe his nose with the bandana again, sniffling some more as his nostrils twitch. There’s a tickle starting to build and he’s trying to ignore it. “Throat’s sore… not just like itchy but real sore… Makes me cough. A-And I can’t s-stop sn-heeh… eh- ehh-! EhhXXGHT! N’GHXT! XXGHT!” His fingers shot up to pinch his nose to make sure he didn’t sneeze on Steve. “That.” He sniffed.

A frown crossed Steve’s features and he feels Eddie’s forehead with the back of his hand as well as his palm. “You’re maybe a little warm. Think you picked up something and got stuck with early spring allergies, man. That sucks…”

Eddie sniffled thickly and tried to clear his throat without starting a coughing fit. “Fuck. That’s just m’by luck…” His congestion was already starting to return before his hand shot up to pinch his nose without warning. “Ihh’GXHT! Fuck!” He swore and snuffled back some of the mess threatening to slip from his nose.

As Eddie looked up at Steve, he noticed a blush darkening over his features. He wriggled his nose to try and keep the tickle at bay for another few minutes and sniffed. “What’s with the blush, Harri’gtod?” He questioned with and cleared his throat again, raising a suspicious brow at the other.

“What?” Steve choked out, trying his best to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. “Nothing. I’m not blushing. Just worried about you. Shut up.” He insisted and went fishing in the bag for a fresh box of tissues, tearing it open to pull some out before handing them to the darker haired man. “Here. Blow. You can’t even say my name right.” He teased.

This time it was Eddie’s turn to blush, and he snatched the tissues from Steve to valiantly blow his nose into them. He grimaced and wiped his nose, nostrils twitching and flaring as the tickle was fanned into a flame from the blowing.

“Ihhuh… Ih-hih-!” Eddie fumbled desperately for new tissues and felt Steve pressing some into his hands. He immediately collapsed into them with unstifled, gut wrenching sneezes. “HiiiIGSHEW! IISHXEW! Eh… EhhT’XHSEW! Oh fuck- ow…” Both of his arms wrapped around his middle protectively as the scars ached from his sudden jarring movements.

“Bless you,” Steve whispered softly, frowning with worry as he moved forward to gently take Eddie’s arms. “Hey, hey.. what’s wrong, Eds?” Anxiety threaded it’s way through Steve’s tone like a tightly laced boot.

Eddie shook his head and pressed his wrist to his leaky nose again, rubbing his nose against his wrist which he held still. “Guh… s’dothi’g…” He tries to insist. “Just the bite scars. They’re still te’der sobetibes.”

Something more than concern crosses Steve’s features and Eddie finds himself being pulled into a gentle hug. He tries to push Steve off him and the other quickly lets go.

“What? What?” Steve asked urgently. “What’s wrong?”

With a laugh that turned into a dry cough, Eddie shook his head. “Dod’t do that. You’re godda get sigk too, du’bass.” He teases Steve and snuffles once again before rubbing at his nose with his rings again, eyes fluttering as his nostrils flared. “Argh… Fugks sagke… fugki’g allergies baki’g everythi’g idtchy… Iihh’pxxght! Ugh… Sorry sduck out.”

Steve only rolled his eyes and yanked Eddie back into a hug, trapping his arms so he couldn’t rub his nose anymore. “I won’t get sick. Hanging out with those kids has like- totally boosted my immune system.”

Again, Eddie raised an eyebrow at Steve. “That… sou’ds like total bullshit.” He sniffled thick and gurgling, feeling Steve squirm in the hug as he smirked at him. “Add you sure are a squirber. You sure everythi’g is okay? Oh, shit you’re dot like- a gerbaphobe or sobethi’g are you? Fuck, I’b sorry!” He starts to scramble backwards, falling with a thud off the couch and onto the floor before Steve can catch him.

“No no, Eddie! Relax!” Steve insisted, shaking his head some. “I’m fine. Seriously. It’s cool. Not a germaphobe. Sniffle, sneeze, cough, all you want. It’s- it’s fine.” But his face was coloring up a bright tomato red and Eddie knew something was up. Though he still accepted the hand which helped pull him back up onto the couch.

“Sure, whatever, Harri’gtod. Just dod’t yell at m’be whed you get sick.” Eddie sniffled again and groaned, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch to wrap up in.

Steve smiled a little and pulled the blanket up over his head to really cocoon him in. “Chilly? You got a hot water bottle? I can fill it up for you?” He offered but Eddie just shook his head some.

“N’do, it popped last year whed I was curled up arou’d it with that flu that went around. Did you get that?” Eddie explains and continues to rub his nose with his hand, rings still abusing his poor red nose despite the freshly opened box of tissues right there.

Thankfully, Steve plucked him a few tissues and pressed them into Eddie’s hands. “Ugh, I did. That was awful. I was stuck in bed for a week. Ended up with a pretty bad sinus infection actually.” He recalls for Eddie and adjusts the blanket for him to keep him all tucked in and cozy. “Anyway, you need meds. I brought meds.”

Eddie blew his nose into the tissues Steve had pressed into his hands and swiped at his leaking nose some more. The blowing caused the tickle to resurge with a vengeance, “Hiihh- Eh? EH-! EhhGXXtsh! Hiii’tGXHTsh! Ngh… uh? Huh… Fugk… HEPT’SHHXXGuh!” A flurry of failed attempts at stifling.

A few more tissues were grabbed before Eddie could question Steve. “Huh? Beds?” He questioned, not quite following until he saw Steve pulling allergy and cold medication from the bag he’d brought with him. “Shit. Stevie, you didd’t have to get all that… I have sobe stuff…”

“Is it still in date?” Steve challenged with a knowing smile, having peeked into the Munson medicine cabinet once before when looking for pain pills for his own demo-bat bites. Not a damn thing in there was still in date.

A soft grumble left the curly haired man, and he shuffled around to rest his head against Steve’s shoulder instead. Steve got him out some allergy medicine first while Eddie pointedly rubbed at his itchy eyes. “Stop that. You’ll make it worse.”

“Itches.” Eddie complained petulantly.

“I know, but this will help. I’ll maybe get you a washcloth to help if you’re good and take your meds.” Steve bargained to which Eddie huffed through his mouth and accepted the allergy pills. “Didn’t know what all to get you. Dustin just said you were sneezy and looked like crap.”

The sniffly Munson managed a chuckle and wriggled his nose at the mention of being sneezy. “Yeah. S’true. I get sdeezy whed I’b sick too… so polled plus cold is just ode fucked up Eddie.” He sniffled, mostly for dramatic effect but it sounded far soupier than he intended, and he grimaced. “Guh..”

Steve seemed to shift in his seat, eyes locked onto Eddie, but he did make a noise of sympathy. “Damn, Eds. I’m sorry. You must feel like shit… and here I am stalling.” He shook his head and got out a dose of cold medicine, a syrup this time.

The sight of the cup of syrup made Eddie wrinkle his nose and whine, “Are you fucki’g serious?” He complained with another sniffle and a rub at his nose with his knuckles, red nostrils starting to twitch again. “I’b dot swallowi’g that.”

“Yes. You are.” Steve said matter-of-factly and held the cup close to Eddie’s lips, making him pull his chin in and mouth away from the cup.

“N’do way- n’dope…” Eddie mumbles but his breathing starts to hitch, his mouth falling open, and Steve takes the opportunity to tip the syrup into his mouth. The surprise taste of the syrup only seems to make his nose tickle worse.

He does the only thing he can think and covers his face with his hands as he pitches forwards with sneezes. “HiiXXTSH! EIXXTHUE! Ihh.. eh-! … IiiHXXTSHhuh!” Eddie groans softly at the mess he can feel on his hands, having flung them up so as not to sneeze on Steve. “You’re a bodster, Harri’gtod… ugh… tissues?”

Steve seems to swallow hard, his face scarlet once again, before he fumbled for the tissues. He plucked out several which he gently pressed into Eddie’s face and hands. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”

“I’b dot!” Eddie says indignantly.

The blonde just laughs and tucks Eddie back into the blanket again, letting him clean himself up. “Sure, Eds.” Steve says as he grabs the TV remote to put something on for them to watch, thankfully keeping the volume low.

It was only ten minutes later that Eddie was fast asleep with his head in Steve’s lap while they watched Wheel of Fortune. Steve’s fingers idly playing with Eddie’s soft curls as Eddie’s stuffy snores filled any of the lulls in noise from the TV. Like a comforting background hum. And soon Steve was out like a light too.

#snzfic #snz #snzblr #sickfic #st/eddie #st/ranger th/ings #st/eve ha/rrington #ed/die mu/nson #snz kink #cw: mess #ugh god is it awful? tell me if its awful #but like nicely plz im sensitive #its my first steddie fic okay i just wanna do my boys eddie & steve justice

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gracefolly-unnamed · 29 days

Text

Rhysand Under the Mountain

Summary:

After the Spring Court is taken to Amarantha, Rhys pays a visit to one of Tamlin's sentries looking for something particularly valuable to him.

Author's note:

After re-reading chapter 54 in Acomaf I wanted more of Rhys sensing Feyre before the trials. I just can't get enough of Rhys' mate bond.

Word count: 1,127

--------------------------

The corridor was cold as a winter's night as he walked towards the cells, his silent steps were calm and careless. His breath appeared in front of him in the form of a puffy cloud, he observed. A gleam of familiarity rose in his memory as the image of a distant mountain range appeared in his mind’s eye. All its peaks covered in snow but the one in the center, the tallest, looming over an endless forest. Rhysand felt a pang of grief that he quickly shoved away.

Last night at Amarantha’s bed had been particularly gruesome, he could not risk his good memories surface or he would collapse before reaching the real carnage that awaited him in the cells. Instead he thought of fire, of the sound of his enemy’s cries, and revenge.

Despite the darkness, his superior senses allowed him to see the path in front of him, but even he could tell the darkness here wasn't just the absence of light. There was something alive Under the Mountain that seemed to feed off of any sort of brightness. The faerie lights were dimmer than on the surface, and the shadows were actually void. So very fitting, he thought to himself.

As he reached the final threshold, the doors opened up before him sensing his power. Whatever ancient power loomed here seemed to recognize Rhys, as High Lord of the Night Court, maybe the mountain saw the darkness in him and acknowledged it, after all, like calls to like.

He stepped through to find a number of cells, some of them thundered with the screams of Amarantha’s prisoners being tortured. Others, more defiant captives, spewed filth at the foul creatures that guarded the cells. They were lesser fae and creatures so lowly there was hardly any names for them.

Rhysand passed many cells until he caught the scent he was looking for, it was faint and coated in blood but it was there: roses, grass, sun and pollen, the smells of the Spring Court. He found the sentry sitting near a corner of the cell, awake and bracing his knees. He wasn't surprised to have found him up and alert even though it was past midnight. The prisoners here didn't sleep, they were either on their guard or tortured into unconsciousness.

The Sentry looked straight at Rhys, defiant. A smile rose to Rhy’s lips that he didn't try to conceal, although he knew the faerie would interpret it as pure mockery. Rhys rather enjoyed the disobedience of Amarantha's prisoners, it stirred a shrivel of hope in him that he had learned to push away.

Standing just outside of the cell in his impeccable black attire stood Rhys. With both hands in his pockets he teased “Looking good Jonas”.

He meant it, Rhys had seen the maimed faeries on the way here, the bodies. He pushed the thought aside.

“Go to hell whore” the Sentry spat out through a mouthful of broken teeth.

Rhys clicked his tongue, “Oh but you do look good, sometimes the Lady can be merciful. She could have had your tongue, you should be grateful.”

The look Jonas gave him was nothing short of murderous.

“What do you want, scum?” The Sentry grumbled from under his breath, his golden brows almost touching.

“You held your post even after her forces had taken the manor, so very valiant of you.”

The Sentry merely blinked in acknowledgment.

“You were guarding a small study, one might say insignificant compared to the other rooms in the house. I wonder…” Rhys continued, “what could possibly be so important to need such protection in a room full of paintings?’

The Sentry remained silent, but Rhys could sense the fear coming off of him. Everyone Under the Mountain still feared him, and with good reason.

“I see you’re not in the mood to talk. However you must understand she needs to know what happened at the Spring Court” Rhys pressed.

With that the High Lord reached into the soldier’s mind, finding little to no resistance. He watched his face pale, his body stiffen. The stench of fear filled the cell.

Rhys’ orders were clear enough, to see what he could learn from Tamlin’s sentries. He could have visited any other cell, however this Sentry had been guarding something particularly valuable to him specifically.

He went through the Sentry’s memory like pages on a book, regular duties flew by until he came across what he was looking for.

“You are to stay here and guard the study, don’t let them touch the paintings.” Tamlin’s voice echoed through the memory and flashes of color- paintings appeared in his mind.

Rhys scanned through them all hungrily, he recognized the style, the strokes, he even caught a glimpse of her hands again. The soldier must have ran into her at work before the sacking.

He then saw Jonas fight the creatures, defending the room behind him, he was prepared to die at his post. Rhys couldn’t help but feel grateful.

For a heartbeat, two, he allowed himself to be enveloped by the colors. He felt it again, the feeling he had so successfully pushed down, it was hope.

He saw flowers, the cottage in the snow, a forest in the dead of winter. They were all hers. Through the sentry’s eyes he was looking into her life, her memories.

By now she must be back at the mortal world, safe and most importantly, away from this nightmare. The thought was enough to ground him and bring him back to the present.

Rhys let go of Jonas’ mind and his body sagged, his breath came out rapidly leaving wisps of smoke.

“I see the High Lord of Spring remains a sentimental fool. Always the martyr.”

Jonas was drained but still managed to curse Rhys rather brutally in between gasps. The High Lord couldn’t help but feel respect for the Sentry, not that he’d ever let it show.

“Thank you Jonas, Amarantha will be pleased.”

With that he turned around, hands still in his pockets. He could winnow back but he needed the walk back to his chambers, needed the chill of the mountain to break him out of the implications of his discovery. He felt a tug in his navel, in his very core.

He climbed up the steps into the Court, allowing each step to pull him away from the study and the mortal girl. Amarantha would never get to her, she was in the mortal lands, she would never have to see the inside of this Court of Nightmares and he would make sure of it. Even if it cost him his life.

By the time he emerged from the cells, he was the portrait of indifference, the mask was back on.

#This is my first short story and my first fanfic ever written #Be nice about it pls #rhysand #Feyre #Tamlin #Acotar

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roosterschick · 2 years

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freaks together

pairing: eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

warnings: MAJOR STRANGER THINGS VOLUME TWO SPOILERS, character death, angst (sorta? it’s more bittersweet)

word count: 543

author’s note: ok these two have been living rent free in my brain for over a month now. i am devastated after volume 2 and while anything else i ever write involving these two will be a fix it/them surviving, i needed to write out this word vomit to help myself heal a little. i read over it once after writing it out so please excuse the choppiness/messy writing. i wrote it while crying :):)::):))

“I love you, man.”

“I love you too.”

The words sounded muffled, like he was underwater. He wanted to be strong for Dustin. To reassure the kid that this was okay. It was his year. His life. His choice. He wouldn’t live with any more regrets. No more running. No more waiting for a change. The time was now. ‘86. His year.

And then nothing hurt anymore. A calm washed over him. Then darkness. A black abyss.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warmth. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face. He opened his eyes. It was daytime. The skies were blue, save for a few white clouds. The air was fresh, but still thick with the strong scent of pollen from the spring blooms. He wasn’t in the Upside Down anymore. He was in the woods behind the high school. A picnic table sat in the middle of a clearing. And a girl. Strawberry blonde strands pulled up into a green scrunchie. She sat at the picnic table, hands folded in her lap as she patiently waited.

He took a step forward, eyes glued on her. The rustling leaves caught her attention, and she turned to him. She took him in, that megawatt smile spreading on her face. His heart nearly beat out of his chest as they made eye contact. Blue eyes on brown. It felt like they were moving in slow motion. He couldn’t get to her fast enough. From now on, he’d only run to her. Not away. Never again.

“Eddie,” she breathed, looking up at him. “Hi.” She smiled so wide, so bright, that it made his chest ache. No one had ever looked at him the way Chrissy Cunningham did.

“Chrissy Cunningham,” he murmured, taking her in. He couldn’t believe his luck.

“Been waiting a while?” he teased.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wouldn’t. What else could he possibly want to look at other than the beautiful, wonderful girl standing in front of him. The girl that complimented his guitar all those years ago and planted herself permanently in his brain.

She let out a breathy laugh, looking down at her feet bashfully.

“Maybe. Is that weird?” she looked up at him again, eyes wide and god she was so pretty.

“I dunno. You’re a freak,” he smiled, repeating his exact words to her last time they were in these woods together.

Chrissy giggled, rolling her eyes at the reference.

“Well… we can be freaks together,” she said, reaching her hand out to him. He looked down at her small hand and that ache returned. She was here. She was with him.

Eddie had never been the religious type. He never had a reason to be. He never speculated much about the existence of an afterlife or heaven and hell. But this, he thought, this must be what all those bible thumpers were talking about. Heaven did exist. And he had somehow made it there.

Heaven was as simple as this: a picnic table, a girl, and a promise.

He smiled warmly at her, hoping it would convey everything he was feeling in that moment. Everything he’s felt for years. Hoping the warmth would envelope her, from the tips of her ears to her toes.

He reached out, lacing their fingers together. A promise. “Freaks together.”

#stranger things #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson x chrissy cunningham #stranger things spoilers #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddissy #hellcheer

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brenna · 17 days

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I've got my draft ready to post. Formatting all worked out, art embedded. Watch for it on Tuesday, April 30th! I'm so excited for my entry in the Spring is Here! High Pollen Count! event. *slapping the hood of the draft* this baby can hold so much plot and smut at the same time!

#writing #good omens #fan fic #the number of times I've edited this bad boy #spring is here! high pollen count!#teaser #I'm hyped and i just wanna share that energy #sex pollen #and it's a little scary too I'm told

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sneezyminniejo · 1 year

Note

Could you please write a sneezy sick S.Coups (caretaker the other members of Seventeen)? With the fact that he tries to hide his sneezes and that they’re really soft

Thank youuuuuu

Here it is, Hope you enjoy

Secret Sneezes

Seungcheol had been sick for a couple of days. It was the middle of spring and he had initially attributed his stuffy nose to his rhinitis. Then the sore throat set in. His rhinitis was bad enough that he did occasionally wake up with a sore throat from the post nasal drip, but it normally went away after being awake for a little bit. This time it hadn’t gone away, so he knew that the stuffiness from the previous days was the beginnings of a cold.

Seungcheol was currently debating whether or not he should tell the others that he’s sick. As he was getting dressed, the leader felt a tickle form in his sinuses. "

"Heh-stschh, hih-stngxschhh." He sighed as he sniffled. He really didn't like sneezing, particularly in front of his members. He's pretty sure he's only sneezed in front of the members a handful of times. He sniffled as he decided that he wasn't going to necessarily hide being sick, but he also wasn't going to announce it. He definitely had no intention of sneezing in front of his members. He grabbed some tissues to blow his nose. Then grab some more and shoved them in his pocket. Seungcheol then left his room to join the others for breakfast.

When Seungcheol got to the kitchen and saw the options that Chan and Mingyu had whipped together, he realized he wasn't all that hungry. He settled on a small plate of eggs and some bacon. His stuffiness was worse today than it was yesterday because he found himself practically having to eat with his mouth open.

Jeonghan took note of the leader eating with his mouth open, and quite frankly was a bit disgusted by it. However with the pollen count already kind of high, he couldn't help but feel a bit sympathetic towards the older member.

"Rhinitis bad again today?" He asked as he gently nudged the box of tissues that was on the table closer to the leader.

"Something like that." The leader commented back, congestion clearly starting to settle in his voice. He plucked a tissue from the box and blew his nose again. Another itch was beginning to build and he hoped blowing his nose would keep it at bay until he could get back to his room or the bathroom.

As Seungcheol was finishing breakfast, the slowly building itch in his nose was becoming too much to bear. He quickly excused himself from the table and started speed walking to the bathroom. He unintentionally shoved Soonyoung and muttered a breathless apology before slamming the bathroom door behind him.

The leader found himself turning the sink faucet on with one hand while he hastily removed some tissue from his pocket with the other. He didn't quite bring the tissues to face in time.

"Heh-stschh, hih-stngxschhh, heh-hih-stschhhieghhh." He wasn't sure how successful he was at muffling the sneezes into the tissues and he really hoped that none of his members heard him. He spent a couple of minutes blowing his nose before throwing the tissues away. He then washed his hands before exiting the bathroom.

Seungcheol walked into the living room and saw Soonyoung and Joshua setting up the couch with blankets, medicine, and concerningly the sick bucket.

"Who's sick?" The leader asked as he swiped a hand under his nose. Internally cringing a little at the wetness he felt.

"Uh, you are hyung. You left the table far too quickly for someone that just needed to use the bathroom." Jeonghan said this as he grabbed the thermometer and scanned Seungcheol's forehead, revealing a fever.

"Not to mention you nearly plowed me over in your Haste to get to the bathroom and you immediately turned the faucet on." Soonyoung provided.

Seungcheol apologized as he sat down on the couch. Since he apparently had a fever, his members weren't going to let him go to work. He should tell them that he wasn't in the bathroom getting sick, but also didn't want to suffer the embarrassment of telling them he was embarrassed to sneeze in front of them. He pulled a tissue out of his pocket and blew his nose, again.

Jeonghan, Joshua, and Soonyoung filled the other members in as they finished getting ready. A few of the members had to go in for a schedule, but Jun, Seungkwan, Jihoon, and Soonyoung were able to stay behind and look after their sick leader.Jeonghan had texted their manager, telling him that Seungcheol likely had the flu and would be staying home for a couple of days.

As the members that needed to leave left, Seungcheol took some of the cold/flu medicine that had been put out. He knew it would help his fever, and he hoped it would help with the sneezing and itching in his sinuses. He fully intended to hide in the bathroom or his own room to sneeze if possible. Ultimately Seungcheol decided to go back to his room and catch up on sleep since he was staying home.

Seungcheol slept for around an hour, then sleepily made his way back to the common area. He had just finished walking down the stairs, when he felt an all too familiar burning sensation quickly begin to form in his nose. Based on how intense the sensation was, he knew that he was about to have an extended fit. His breath began hitching almost immediately.

“Hyung, how’re you-” Jihoon couldn’t finish his sentence, as Seungcheol briskly walked to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. Although, he did hear what sounded like a cough from Seungcheol right before the door shut.

“-IEGHH, heh-stshhh, hih-stschhh, heh-stngxtshhh, hih-stschhh-stieshhh, heh-stieshh-istchhhh.” Seungcheol spent a couple of minutes just sneezing openly until he managed to rip off some toilet paper to sneeze into that instead. The fit had been prolonged enough that it eventually threw the sick leader into a coughing fit.

When he finally finished and was able to blow his nose, Seungcheol heard a knock on the door. “Hyung, are you alright in there?” Jihoon asked. Seungcheol grabbed a spare roll of toilet paper before he opened the door.

“I’m fine Hoonie. I’m just going to relax on the couch and watch some tv.” He sniffled as he walked past Jihoon and made his way to the living room. Seungcheol was only a few minutes into whatever was airing, when Jun entered. “Hyung I’m making soup, do you want me to put anything specific in it?”

Seungcheol nodded as he ripped off some squares of toilet paper and dabbed at his quickly pinkening nose. “Whatever you make is fine, just make it spicy please.” The leader had forgotten that his members thought he had a stomach bug, so was a bit confused when Jun met his request with a confused expression.

Jun made the soup as requested and brought it into the living room. “Hyung, I’m not sure spicy food is the best idea, but you wouldn’t have asked for it if you didn’t think you could handle it.” Jun said as he placed the bowl on the table in front of the leader. Seungcheol thanked the younger, then began eating his food.

Jun’s slightly weird comment aside, the soup had the effect that Seungcheol was hoping for. It was only a couple of minutes before his nose started running, a lot. The sick leader found himself sniffling in between bites of soup. However, all the sniffling and loose mucus had a side effect that Seungcheol hadn’t anticipated. He was quickly overcome with an extremely intense need to sneeze that caught him completely off guard.

“Heh-stschhh, hih-stschhh, heh-stieshhh, hih-stieshhh-stngxtshhh, heh-stiengxtshhh.” The sneezing had come on so suddenly that Seungcheol didn’t have enough time to put down his bowl, let alone cover. As a result, some of the soup did get spilled. Seungcheol went to rip some more toilet paper off the roll, but Seungkwan stopped him and handed him a handful of tissues.

“Bless you hyung.” Seungcheol nodded in thanks as he accepted the tissues and very productively blew his nose. His cheeks also flushed a little in embarrassment at the sneezing fit he just had.

Seungkwan helped clean up the spilled soup before joining Seungcheol on the couch. He also grabbed the thermometer to check the leader’s temperature, and was pleased to see that with the medicine he had taken, he didn’t have a fever. Jun, Jihoon, and Soonyoung joined them after they finished whatever it was they were doing.

Over the course of the next couple of hours, Seungcheol’s nose hadn’t been the slightest bit cooperative. He kept having to blow his nose, and was either caught off guard by a sneezing fit, or he would excuse himself to the bathroom to deal with his nose. Of course every time he excused to go to the bathroom, the four members who had stayed behind were getting more concerned. During one of the sneezing fits where Seungcheol had rapidly excused himself to the bathroom, the others returned home from their schedules

Seungcheol returned to the living to find that his group was having a semi-hushed conversation. As soon as Seungcheol fully entered the living room, the conversation stopped and Chan grabbed the thermometer and scanned his hyung’s forehead. At this point the medicine he had taken had fully worn off, so his fever had returned. Although the medicine hadn’t really helped with his nose situation.

“Hyung, we think you should go see a doctor.” Minghao said. This caught Seungcheol off guard, and the extremely confused expression on his told the members that he wasn’t sure why he needed to go to the doctor.

“Kwannie told us how frequently you've been going to the bathroom. If you’re getting sick that frequently, you need to be seen.” Jeonghan said. Jun also apologized for giving him the spicy food that probably hadn’t helped his stomach at all. This caused Seungcheol to remember that all of his members had thought he had a stomach bug and he started laughing.

“I don’t need to go to a doctor. I’m not sick. Well not in the way you’re thinking. It’s just a cold. I hate sneezing in front of people, so I tried to excuse myself to the bathroom before a fit started.” Almost immediately after Seungcheol had finished speaking a residual tickle made itself fully known, and he rapidly turned around and sneezed six times into his elbow.

“I’m sick of being sick.” He complained as he sat down and grabbed some tissues. The members were definitely relieved to hear that he wasn’t actually that sick. Vernon then roped the group into marathoning the How to Train Your Dragon movies. Mingyu went to the kitchen to make popcorn for everyone as Vernon set up the tv.

#seventeen #sickfic #sneeze

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malachitegrey · 1 month

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Spring 2024 Air Quality Forecast

Things are growing and about to bloom in the High Pollen Count area, and late April is expected to bring significant amounts of sex pollen works to the Good Omens fandom, so be on alert!

Keep an eye on the AO3 dashboard for real-time pollen tracking, and your local meteorologists @adverbian, @malachitegrey, @voluptatiscausa, and @vulvnerable will provide regular updates with new works.

If you're sensitive to Good Omens sex pollen, the season is almost here! Remember: April sluts bring May smuts and preparedness is critical for managing nature's whims! Be safe out there!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction

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fantomcomics · 1 year

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What’s Out This Week? 3/29

Spring has sprung, our spirits (and the pollen count) are high, and our 25% Figurine Sale is still going strong til 4/1!

A History Of Modern Manga HC - Insight Editions

The history of manga is inextricably linked to the social, economic, political, and cultural evolution of Japan. Essential to the daily lives of its inhabitants and to its economy, manga is one of the drivers of the international development of one of the world's largest economies. How did the manga market reach one billion copies annually in less than half a century? Who are the major players in this incredible expansion? Discover, over the pages and years, the major events and artists who have marked the history of modern manga in this new, updated and expanded edition.

The Ambassadors #1 (of 6) - Mark Millar & Frank Quitely

Imagine you could gift superpowers to six people. In a world of eight billion, who do you choose? Join six of the greatest artists in the industry for an enormous story about ordinary people from around the world explaining why it should be them.

Big Guy & Rusty The Boy Robot TP - Frank Miller & Geof Darrow

Front and center, America! Here comes action! Here comes adventure! Here comes The Big Guy and Rusty the Boy Robot-a roller-coaster ride through the minds of Geof Darrow and Frank Miller, the tag team that set you reeling with their hard-hitting series, Hard Boiled! Everything you remember about being thirty-eight-years-old and watching monster movies is right here, but with all the magnified detail that you always wanted to see.

Don’t Spit In The Wind #1 (of 4) - Stefano Cardoselli

One man's trash is another man's living. Since earth became inhospitable, humanity escaped ages ago to live in a space station floating above the atmosphere. Now Travis and his crew of garbage men are tasked with cleaning up mountains of toxic waste, working for a company called Atomic Bros INC., to create a "Clear World." But when one of Travis' crew members goes missing near an old nuclear facility Travis' job becomes a bit more complicated.

E-ratic 2 TP - Kaare Andrews & Brian Reber

Recharge complete! The teenage hero with superpowers that only work for ten minutes a day is back to save the world again as he navigates even more pressing perils: young love, bullies, a broken family and the gauntlet that is high school. This time, young Oliver Leif is teamed with a barbarian princess who claims to be from another dimension. Spinning from the pages of The Resistance, E-Ratic combines electric action, teen drama, and pure comics fun.

Everything Sucks: Real Gamer Hours One-Shot - Michael Sweater

Do video games cause violence? No, but they do cause Noah to smell absolutely horrible from playing an MMO for three days straight. Can Calla break the spell, or will she get trapped by the sweaty paws of King Crushskull too? Includes a foil cardstock cover and a sticker sheet!

Fart School HC - Mel Stringer

Mel is excited about moving to Brisbane and starting art school! She imagines collaborating with other creatives, honing her craft, and becoming an accomplished artist. But it turns out that art school isn't quite the same in real life. Can Mel finish college with her love of art still intact?

Festival Of Shadows: A Japanese Ghost Story GN - Atelier Sento

Every summer, in an isolated Japanese village, a celebration known as the Festival of Shadows takes place. The villagers are entrusted to assist the troubled souls or "shadows" of those who died tragically, and to help them come to terms with their deaths and find eternal peace. Naoko, a young girl born in the village, is given a year to save the soul of a mysterious young man. She develops strong feelings for her shadow-a handsome young man, an artist-but he seems haunted by a terrible secret. She has a year to find out what happened to him, to help him come to terms with his past, and if she fails, his soul will be lost forever. As the year goes by, Naoko finds herself teetering between the worlds of the living and the dead. What is the terrible secret that seems to be haunting her shadow? And could she be risking her own life to help someone who has already lost his?

Superstate TP - Graham Coxon, Hellen Mullane & Alex Paknadel

The Superstate is everywhere, and its authority is absolute. Yoga Town is a city divided. While they wait to leave the earth, the 1% can bend reality to their will, they live in a consequence free world where anything goes. Meanwhile, the masses are pacified by a drugged out, government mandated digital dreamscape while they wait to perish on this dying planet. But there is still hope, for angels roam the earth. With their help, maybe some rebellious spirits can start to make a change. Experience 15 surreal and disturbing tales of rebellious fembots, celebrity turkey shoots, violent astral projection and an all-new take on the TV dinner.

Granite State Punk #1 - Travis Gibb & Patrick Buermeyer

Zeke has just gotten released from prison and is now living in the last place he ever wanted to be... his dead parents' house. For years, he tried to drown every ounce of the memories of this place and his messed-up childhood. Zeke is now forced to confront it and the revelation that his past is filled with the occult, punk rock, dark magic, and its connection to New Hampshire's most historic landmark, The Old Man of the Mountain.

I Hear A Sunspot: Four Seasons GN - Yuki Fumino

Kohei Sugihara, college student with hearing loss, and Taichi Sagawa, his ever-optimistic former classmate, met in a chance encounter that ignited an undeniable spark that would eventually blossom into love. Now it's spring and as Kohei nears graduation, his search for a job begins. Meanwhile, Taichi finds himself in charge of someone new at work. Life is busier than ever, but all in all, things seem to be looking up for the pair. That is, until the sudden appearance of Ena, one of Kohei's old flames.

Indigo Children #1 - Curt Pires, Rockwell White & Alex Diotto RADIANT BLACK meets THE DEPARTMENT OF TRUTH in this action-packed sci-fi/mystery epic as journalist Donovan Price hunts down the extraordinarily gifted INDIGO CHILDREN after their mysterious disappearance fifteen years prior.

A Journal Of My Father GN - Jiro Taniguchi

Yoichi Yamashita, spurred by a call informing him of his father's death, thinks of childhood. He returns to his hometown after a lengthy absence during which time he has not seen his father. As the relatives gather for the funeral and the stories start to flow, Yoichi's childhood starts to resurface. The Spring afternoons playing on the floor of his father's barber shop, the fire that ravaged the city and his family home, his parents' divorce and a new "mother." Through confidences and memories shared with those who knew him best, Yoichi rediscovers the man he had long considered an absent and rather cold father.

The Karman Line TP - Dennis Hopeless & Piotr Kowalski

It's all sex, lies and betrayal on a reality show streaming from the International Space Station until the crew receives a message reading "ABORT MISSION AND GET HOME NOW." Things unravel quickly as they find their shuttle damaged and a crew member dead. They'll have to fight to survive and escape... with cameras recording everything.

Kaya Book 1 TP - Wes Craig

After the destruction of their village, a young girl with a magic arm and a fighting spirit is tasked with delivering her little brother to a faraway safe haven. There, he's destined to discover the secret to overthrowing the all-powerful empire that destroyed their home. Starting out on their journey, they'll face lizard-riders, monstrous beasts, and secrets that could tear brother and sister apart.

Lady Baltimore: Dreams Of Ikelos One-Shot - Mike Mignola, Christopher Golden, Bridgit Connell & Abigail Larson

Lady Sofia Baltimore, accompanied by an array of formidable companions, continues her war against the Nazis in an occult alternate Outerverse. High in the frozen Italian alps, a mercenary sorcerer has revealed a dangerous magical artifact. German forces will use it to obliterate Allied forces who stand against them . . . unless Sofia and Imogen can take possession of it first.

Heartstrings: Melissa Ethridge & Her Guitars GN - Steve Hochman, Frank Mariffinno, Manuela Pertega & Kate Samuels

Melissa Etheridge's Heartstrings takes you on a journey through her growth and life as a musician, as it reveals the untold stories behind some of her favorite guitars, each one of them exciting, significant, and dear to her heart and music.

Mister Mammoth HC - Matt Kindt & Denis Pendanx

Mr. Mammoth is the world's greatest detective and the kind of person you don't forget. Being a seven-foot-tall pacifist who's covered head to toe with an impressive collection of horrific scars makes quite the impression. But he might be losing his edge. He can't seem to solve his latest case and he's distracted with a strange obsession with a soap opera actress who doesn't even know he exists. His new case holds clues that might finally unlock the secret of his traumatic childhood. The question is: is he solving a crime-or planning one? Mr. Mammoth is the first-ever original graphic novel from Matt Kindt's all-new imprint, Flux House, which features crime, science fiction, and humor stories, all told in startling and untraditional ways. For Mr. Mammoth, Kindt is joined by internationally acclaimed artist Jean Denis Pendanx, who's making his U.S. debut!

Monster Tag Team #1 - Konstantine Paradias, Gerardo Gambone & Neil Vokes

It's a brand-new series in the vein of classic team-ups and two-in-one comics - this is MONSTER TAG TEAM! Two monsters - one rampaging story - all horror! In this debut issue called "Wolfe And Bat" - mortal enemies and clashing world powers collide in an over-the-top monster battle royale! In a Cold War that's gone occult, the international terror organization WARLOCK schemes to destroy human civilization. Faced with this new breed of unstoppable sorcerous criminal, West and Soviet agencies put their two best creatures on the case: Jesse Walker, a CIA-trained werewolf and Vlad Dracul, KGB's top vampire, team up to destroy WARLOCK's chief Magister before he can unleash Fimbulwinter on humanity. This issue comes with four covers - Main by Copper Age legend Neil Vokes, Corpse Crew homage cover by Buz Hasson & Ken Haeser, Painted cover by Mark Sparacio, and a special 100 copy Century limited edition!

Songs Of The Dead: Afterlife TP - Michael Christopher Heron, Andrea Fort, MJ Erickson & Nick Robles

Bethany is a necromancer and a hero. Along with her companions, Elissar and Jonas, she has finally found the rumored Covenant. Her perilous journey has brought her to the last bastion of the necromancers, but resurging prejudices have them in shambles. Can Bethany unite them in the face of escalating tensions? Or will the coming war shatter all of her dreams for a peaceful future?

Vince Staples Presents Limbo Beach GN - Bryan Edward Hill, Chris Robinson & Buster Moody

“Every kid has the same story. Wash up on shore. Enter the amusement park. Get superpowers. Why are you so different?" Join fan-favorite rapper Vince Staples, Bryan Edward Hill (Batman & the Outsiders; Titans), Chris Robinson (Children of the Atom), and Buster Moody (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) on an adventure into the mysterious Limbo Beach, an island theme park ruled by adolescents with unique abilities! Follow the newest member of the Wunderlosts, a band of misfit teenage raiders, on a journey to discover the truth about the park - and himself - in a tale that is equal parts Lord of the Flies and The Warriors.

Welcome Back, Aureole GN - Takatsu

Bright and sociable Kazu and the sober and serious Moto have been best friends since childhood. Even if they drifted apart in junior high, they still understood one another better than anyone else. But in their second year, Kazu began to think of Moto as more than just a friend. And as much as he wanted to think it was just a misunderstanding, it became clear to him that his feelings were all too real...

WesterNoir GN - Dave West, Gary Crutchley & Matt Soffe

Josiah Black thought that he'd done it all - cowhand, gun slinger, drifter and sheriff - but then he kills Jim Wilson and takes on the role of monster hunter. Monsters that only he can see. They Live meets Deadwood in this tale from the old wild west.

Whatcha snagging this week, Fantom Fam?

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starstruckpurpledragon · 1 year

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So I'm feeling way better today than yesterday, seems pretty clear the allergies are getting to me and hay fever season is most definitely upon me. Lovely.

That said my nose is still stopped up because allergies are obnoxious and the pollen count is so high. And if it's a form of pollen, I will sneeze until miserable for it.

Feels worse than it did this time last year and I've come to realize I'm out of my decongestant spray. So at some point I must brave the world to get more. (Don't wanna go out. But I would like to be able to breathe through my nose again, so... I got a real conundrum here.) But given how early the spring weather arrived this year and how we were having 80 degree weather between freezing cold snaps in the winter, I'm not surprised that the pollen is extra high this year.

At least my oak trees aren't in on the pollen nonsense yet. When they do, though...

#also it's not cotton wood season yet #but i live near a place called cottonwood park #so you can imagine those trees are everywhere and I am allergic to their pollen too #spring is... not the happiest time of year for me that's for sure #but despite how bad my allergies are being this week #i'm glad I'm not actually sick with anything #my sister's birthday is this weekend and I wanna be there #preferably with my nose in working order but I can live with it otherwise

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littleharpethcrossfit · 1 month

Text

Sunday, 14 April, 2024.

Today the coldest temp is 60, while the highest temp will be 80. Nothing but sunny blue skies. Springtime at the Barn can be fantastic.

Warmup

The Admiral Armando once again led the crew with dynamic exercises to get our old bodies lubricated.

Warmup #2

25 Synchronized Push-Ups with a competent leader. Average Dave volunteered to lead us and Admiral Armando counted them off with enthusiasm.

Strength

Bench Press:..........5/5/5/5/5..........(All 70 to 80% 1 Rep Max).

Armando=205 Robert=175 Coach=155 Paul/Dana=145 Dyer=125 Tom=115 Elisa/Kayla=105 Cheri=95 Linda=85 Shannon=65 Warren A/Chris B/Bernie/Average Dave/Ed/Alicia=PJ

WOD

Equipment:

Dumb Bell (50/35/20)

Various ERGs

GHD Machine

Parallel Bars

5..........10..........15..........20..........25

Calories On Various ERGs

Dumb Bell Hang Snatch Left

Dumb Bell Hang Snatch Right

Back Raises

Parallel Bar Dips

Kayla=21:01 Elisa=22:37 Cheri=22:43 Armando*=23:30 Paul=25:02 Linda=25:05 Chris B=25:30 Shannon=26:10 Dyer=26:22 Dana**=27 Ed=27:01 Tom=27:22 Coach=33:30 Robert/Warren A/Bernie/Average Dave/Alicia and others=no posted times

Cool-Down

Alternating Dumb Bell Curls: 10/10..........10/10..........10/10

Notes:

Outdoor CrossFitters are always aware of the weather. Today will long be remembered as having perfect Spring weather EXCEPT that the pollen was swirling down and around like a yellow blizzard.

Ed, with reluctant assistance from Robert, did a superb job of putting the Big Ass Patio Heaters away, and bringing out the 3 Big Ass Fans to be used until Herb complains of the chilly weather in November.

Robert's pre-workout supplemental beverage of Red-Bull + creatine + caffeine + electrolytes + growth hormone + testosterone stimulators + Horny Goat-weed must not be working anymore. He appeared depressed and morose and didn't even have the energy to do the warmup. His absence is excused until Thursday, so hopefully he will come back with enthusiasm.

A delightfully lovely couple wandered through our gate from the Arboretum path. Their accents revealed them to be Polish, and came to Spring Hill via Chicago where they went to colleges. I wish that the Schwartz seniors had been here to talk Chicago-eze with them. I gave them my best sales routine (I've learned from Robert) because they would fit in great here. They don't appear to be regular gym attendees and would benefit from our gangs' friendship. I hope to see them again.

Our Son Chris did his first ever CrossFit workout with us today. In high school he was a Nationally ranked Decathlete, but like many, lost interest in the hard work of fitness. He requested a private workout because he was worried about failure, but he was coachable with weighs and scaling and I thought he did super. Hoping for the best...

Tuesday at 4 PM.

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acornsandoaktrees · 7 months

Text

Into Tall Grass (And Webs)

Squirrels Arc

word count: 1.1K

summary: The princes and Tauriel go where they should not.

glossary:

iônnig = my son

adar = father

trigger warnings: spiders, brief claustrophobic themes

Laerion hoisted Legolas up, grunting under little boots on his face until Tauriel had hold of him.

Finding purchase in knitted branches, Laerion climbed up after them until he too perched on a wide bough crowning the hedge.

Dutiful, Tauriel held Legolas' arm so he wouldn't fall as he peered over the edge, eyes wide with vertigo.

Voices approached the screen of wild plants currently hiding the elflings from sight. Their caretaker's intonation was clear and bell-like amongst them.

Laerion dropped to the bed of vegetation on the other side; grass brushed his waist. Fresh dirt showering from her boots, Tauriel kicked up moss clinging to the branches in her clumsied hurry to descend; trusting his elder brother to catch him, Legolas bravely leapt. Feathers in his arms, Laerion bent his knees to set him down.

Legolas' shoulders matched the height of the grass here, tiny ellon almost swallowed by the forest. Laerion had to search for his hand a moment in the dewy depths so as not to lose him entirely. Tauriel ran ahead, batting away obstructing vines.

Cast by the high hidden sun above the canopy, shadows cooled reasonably the spring warmth. Dew still slicked laden branches, drawing dark streaks on the elflings' tunics as they walked. Though the sky was blue and cloudless above their heads, eternal twilight reigned this side of the hedge, everything caught in a fragile quiet just before birdsong wakes. Flowers quivered expectantly; odd things rustled in bushes.

Laerion escorted his charges deeper within the bounds of the forest, ignoring the wariness swirling in his stomach, warning him to be afraid of the unknown.

Every so often, Legolas and Tauriel strayed from him to examine strange plants. Tauriel chatted to the younger about animal tracks visible in the soft earth. Legolas listened intently to her, though sometimes far-off calls or rustling leaves distracted him.

Caving to their questions, Laerion knelt in the grass to see a grounded bee.

Torn wings working furiously, it struggled in a frenzied buzz of noise. Translucent string clung to its body, matting pinstriped fur and stealing the sweet brazen pollen on its legs.

Laerion's heart dropped into his stomach. He tracked the web up into interwoven arcs wound taught over shrubbery; the strange cloying smell hanging in the air explained itself.

"This is far enough."

Tauriel raised her voice to protest. When Laerion rounded on her harshly, she shrunk back, sullen. Eyes watery, Legolas tugged on Laerion's sleeve.

"This isn't home," he whimpered, "I want to go home."

Quietly agreeing with him, Laerion picked him up. "Come, Tauriel."

The fiery-haired elleth sulked, but waded through the wilted grass alongside them nevertheless. Indignant, she kicked a pebble out of her path. It disappeared into wild ferns and rolled away, catching in webs.

>---|-

They descended in a horrible chittering fracas.

>---|-

"Legolas!" Laerion screeched, kicking desperately in blindness. "Tauriel!"

It took him only a moment to realise his limbs were bound, his body entirely cocooned. Spiders hissed and trees cried in his ears. Huge shadows passed over his veiled vision time and time again.

Everywhere; they must've been everywhere. Laerion screamed for the little elfings again, and this time Legolas whimpered in response.

Wriggling in vain attempts to free himself, Laerion clawed blindly at the webbing encasing his body. So tight it hurt to breathe. Strident shrieks in his periphery, huge legs prodded him back and forth.

As long as they focused on him: as long as they left Legolas and Tauriel alone. A sob escaped him. Those sweet children were going to die and he could do nothing.

Catching on his fingertips, thick string stretched then tore. An opening -- a pale crack of grey light. If he could just reach the knife sheathed at his belt...

Muted sunlight burst across his eyes. Starved of the freshness of the forest, Laerion gasped in stale air. He caught a branch as he began to fall, hauling himself up.

Dislodging lingering webs, Laerion threw up his knife just in time to bury it between the many black eyes of the spider charging at him. Its momentum drove it forward still, pincers relaxing, Laerion's heels scraping on brittle bark.

Others crowded him, hissing vile complaints. Branches groaned under their weight as they bore down upon him with awful speed. Large and looming, the air shivered with their fury.

Raising his tiny blade, Laerion managed to draw in a shallow gasp and swung at the closest spider.

It recoiled with a sharp cry: the sound gurgled then died abruptly as its head flew from its body.

Overspilling with dark tar, the lone thorax tipped forward and crashed through low branches.

Singing righteously, many arrows swept through the gathered spiders, falling like rain into their midst.

Dropping one by one, the beasts' furious racket dwindled until all that remained was the dull anticipatory thrum of the sick forest. It was over in seconds.

Wiping clean her sword on satin robes, the Elvenqueen bridged branches to stand before her son.

Above them, Liatan joined the gathered band of elves, holding Legolas to his chest and Tauriel to his side. Both elflings clutched his tunic, faces hidden, webs clinging to their clothes.

Laerion shirked under his mother's glare. Her disappointment stung.

Thalanes extended her hand. In her open palm, the boy placed his bloodied knife.

"Consider yourself lucky," Thalanes said, a storm on the horizon. She turned away, clutching the knife to her chest.

Another elf placed his hand at Laerion's back, herding him after the hunting band towards warmer shadows.

>---|-

Feathers brushing her ears, Alphes reached up to readjust her slipping crown as she peered around the corner.

Earlier, her brothers had stolen away Tauriel while she had been stuck in the hold of her linguistics teacher. When a great fuss arose outside, he had been gone fetching new scrolls from the library, which quite stupidly gave Alphes the opportunity to slip away. They could never trap her for long.

Now, she hovered at a shadowed nook overlooking the throne room, out of sight of guards that would snatch her up and carry her back to her teacher.

"Iônnig."

An ant far below, the prince turned back to face his father.

"They are only young, and the forest has become perilous. You must be more careful," Thranduil said, rigid. The deep thrum of his voice echoed grandly throughout the cavern.

Laerion dipped into a low bow. "I understand, Adar." Alphes thought his light voice shook just a little. It might've been the hollows of the walls.

#squirrels arc #aaot writing #laerion of greenwood #legolas of greenwood #tauriel of greenwood #thalanes of greenwood #liatan of greenwood #thranduil of greenwood #aaotverse #acorns and oak trees #lotr #lotr au #the hobbit #greenwood kids #tolkien #tolkien elves

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