#and before someone says anything no it's not allergies. my doctor scratched my skin in various places with a sterile needle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1nickel2many · 2 years

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SNAS and I

On July 18th, 2022, I was diagnosed with Systemic Nickel Allergy Syndrome after an extensive patch test.

Sometime in January or February, a rash started forming on my right arm. I didn’t really think of anything of it. I had a previously scheduled appointment with my dermatologist to get a wart removed in the coming week, so I figured I’d just bring it up to him while I was there. Once I arrived I showed it to him and he didn’t seem all that interested in it. He stated “oh, that’s just a rash. We’ll give you some medicine and it’ll clear it right up”. Basically exactly what I had expected him to say.

And with that, I began my first round of steroid medications. Surprisingly, it didn’t work and it was spreading. Soon it showed up on my other arm and spread down my back. I called my dermatologist and he gave me some different steroids to try. Those didn’t work. The next time I called, he had me come back into the office. He looked me over again, only really looking at the area on my arms, and wanted to try some different medications as well as a fungal shampoo.

During the months of us trying all these medications, the rash was getting worse. It itched so bad. It hurt when I scratched and it hurt when I didn’t scratch. It finally got to the point where I itched myself so much and so hard that I began to bleed, scabs would form, scratching would nick them, rinse, repeat. Frankly, it was one of the worst experiences of my life. Once this began to happen, I started putting Calamine lotion on my skin as my mom suggested. I basically bathed myself in it. It wasn’t the most fun, but it gave me some sort of relief. As for the medication...

Nothing was working. The fungal shampoo didn’t work. The steroids, while they helped somewhat, still didn’t make it go away. I wasn’t able to sleep. I probably gained 30 pounds because the only time that I felt better was when I was eating. I spent my days at my desk at work just snacking all day long to help me TRY to focus, but I wasn’t able to do my job or really do much of anything. I’d try to sit there and watch TV and it was impossible to even focus on that.

Four months later and three rounds of different medication later, my dermatologist didn’t know what else to do. He stated that he didn’t know what else to do and said the next step would be to try this possibly harmful medication. It’s a medication that was used for eczema and some sort of cancers. Looking up the medication, it scared me to death. It caused liver damage, kidney damage, and caused cancer to some. I wasn’t doing that.

Finally, it was time for a second opinion. My doctor had barely looked at me, he hadn’t done any type of testing on my skin or really looked at the entire rash at all. Surely someone else would do better and I was tired of this guy. The last advice the nurse gave me before telling them I wasn’t coming back was just to go outside for a few minutes every day. Yeah...okay.

I made an appointment to one of the big medical hospitals an hour away from my home. The doctors at this hospital made me feel so much more comfortable. They had me strip and put me in a hospital gown so that they could look me over completely and they did. Already, much more than the other dermatologist had done. She told me they were going to try a higher dose of some of the steroid medications that my other doctor had put me on and were going to do a skin biopsy.

This round of medications seemed to help. The rash didn’t go away, but I was able to sleep, I was able to work and somewhat live my life. I was uncomfortable, but anything was better than the hell I was going through previously.

A week later, the doctor called me back saying the biopsy came back. Atopic dermatitis with Eosinophils. So basically...I had a rash. Great. Thanks. She was making me an appointment with one of the other doctors in the hospital that does their patch testing. But it wasn’t for another three months.

Thankfully, the medicine seemed to be working at least somewhat and the doctor told me that it was fine for me to continue taking as long as that continued. I held on. Fighting my way through the exhaustion of itching myself. For six months, I had literally thought of nothing else than getting rid of the itch. Of course nothing worked.

The rash seemed to move and continue to spread. Now it was fully on my back, around my stomach and going down my legs.

I waited patiently for the day that I started my patch testing. I took a few days off of work to go back up to the hospital. They placed several sticky pads to my back, 62 allergens to see if I react to any of them. I was supposed to have these pads on me all day Friday, Saturday, Sunday and most of Monday. This sucked. It was itchy, it was uncomfortable. I wasn’t able to use my icepacks, I wasn’t able to take a shower, I basically spent the entire four days laying in bed because it was all I could do without worrying about how it would come off. I had to sleep on my back because it would start peeling off when I slept in any other direction.

It was worth it, but it SUCKED!!!

When Monday finally came, I went up there and sure enough, I had a nickel allergy. I hadn’t even considered this. The doctor gave me a giant list and told me that I should try to avoid these foods that contained nickel (which spoiler alert is almost everything) and see if that helped clear it up. Then he sent me on my way.

There I was sitting in my car with little to no information other than I went from being someone who wasn’t allergic to anything and was free to eat whatever I wanted to...now I’m allergic to almost everything and have to read the labels of everything I buy.

There’s not really a point to this blog. I just really needed a spot to get all this information together in one spot and to help myself sort through it as much as possible. Since that day, I have been stressed beyond belief. We ended up having to donate everything in our pantry because everything contained one of my allergens. I just needed a space. Tumblr seems to be the only place I can organize so that’s what this blog is. I don’t really expect anyone to read this or follow or really anything, but I just needed a spot to figure this out and maybe get some frustration out. My husband has been nothing but supportive, but I’m about to pull my hair out. I need a space. So, this is my space.

If you have a nickel allergy, maybe you’ll find something helpful here? Feel free to message me. Maybe we can fumble through this together.

#about me #systemic nickel allergy syndrome #nickel allergy #food allergy

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grilledcheeseandguavajelly · 4 years

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“It Was Hard To Breathe, And She Called To Me” -- Cordelia Goode x Reader

Long story short, I had a lot of feelings and anxieties about coronavirus when everything got bad back in March, and this was the product of that. I wasn’t going to post it (for multiple reasons), but after revisiting it I changed my mind. Hopefully it isn’t too rough!

Words: ~3,600

Warnings: Coronavirus, panic attacks, anxiety, hyperventilating, scratching (if anything about wearing masks or claustrophobia triggers you, I would skip this one!)

~Enjoy, my little peaches!~

It hadn’t hit you. The severity of it all, the effect all of this was having on the simplest things. Holed up in the academy, it hadn’t affected your day to day life, besides not being able to go out. Cordelia had strictly enforced the quarantine, but she didn’t let you girls go out during the week anyway, and your weekends were usually spent in her bed, the only real alone time the two of you got nowadays.

It made the sneaking around more fun, though, having to dodge prying eyes all seven days of the week. Never getting a break from the questions and the constant knocking on Cordelia’s door. Only able to steal kisses in the fleeting moments before dinner or deep into the night.

You had been so wrapped up in everything with Cordelia and so dead set on not watching the news, that you didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until you actually stepped foot in a grocery store.

You were all on a rotating schedule for groceries and errands, but so many girls had joined recently and Cordelia always needed you for something else, so you hadn’t gone out for groceries for roughly two and a half months. Until today.

It was Coco’s turn, but she had come down with a cough and Delia refused to let her leave her room. Nothing serious, she had said, but she wouldn’t let her leave if her immune system was even the slightest bit compromised.

You had volunteered to go, and Cordelia had looked at you with frantic eyes, but when Mallory innocently offered to cover your chores, there was no arguing, and before you knew it you were masked and gloved and fighting the New Orleans heat to get to the store.

The streets were empty, a few leaves blowing across the sidewalk in front of you the only sound. It made the hair at the back of your neck stand up, this once lively city now stark still and abandoned. But you brushed the uneasiness away, trudging along and relishing the air conditioning once you arrived.

Everything had gone well at first. You dug out your list, scratching a few things off quickly as you pulled them from the shelves. But then you were tasked with getting meat, and when you walked down the aisle, everything was gone. There were two containers of wrapped salmon, and that was it. No chicken, no beef, no pork. And you couldn’t pick up the salmon because one of the new girls had a fish allergy.

Twenty minutes later and you had found someone to help you, had had a garbled exchanged through your respective masks, and were waiting for them to pack you some new meat. Luckily, when you mentioned the school they recognized you and were willing to help.

After that it was toilet paper and napkins, but that aisle was also practically empty. Signs were put up saying “one of each”, so you grabbed whatever you could find. No hand soap, no disinfecting wipes.

What felt like hours later, you were snug in your place marker on the floor, waiting to check out. Tugging at your mask and cursing the stupid thing for exacerbating the heat and making the air entirely too thick. You swallowed down the thought that you couldn’t breathe, pushing a panic attack out of your mind.

You can breathe. It’s just fabric. Doctors do this all the time.

The woman at the register barely talked to you, only enough to tell you that you had to choose between the toilet paper and the napkins. When you referenced the sign, she clarified that it meant one of any, not one of each.

You shook your head incredulously as you thought about how sad it was that the world had come to this, and inevitably took too long to make a decision between the two.

Ultimately, the toilet paper won out. It should have been a no-brainer, given how many girls lived in that house, but somehow, with the panic attack ebbing and falling in your chest, you couldn’t think straight.

Your heart was pounding by the time the cashier finished scanning and bagging your items, and you tugged at your mask as it slid down your nose with your soft panting.

You remembered when Cordelia had given it to you, smiling as you tried it on for the first time. She had told you it suited you, and you grinned in the mirror because the blue pattern did look good against your skin.

That had been almost nine weeks ago. It hadn’t seemed that long, hadn’t seemed that bad. All you had used it for were your weekly walks with your girlfriend, and even then, you were more focused on her hand in yours and how her eyes crinkled around her own mask to notice.

But now, as you tapped your phone to the keypad and waited for it to process your payment, time started to stretch around you, the past lengthening as the cashier printed your receipt.

By the time you had left the store, the stress of the world was making the air press in around you.

And by the time you made it back to the iron gates of the academy, the panic had completely overtaken you.

Your arms were scratched raw, bags dragging you down and making you feel trapped in your own body. Your gloves were gone, torn through and lost somewhere along the way. The heat amplified the pounding of your heart, sweat pricking your neck as your head churned around the thought that you couldn’t breathe, there was no air.

Somehow you found your way to the kitchen, dropping the bags on the counter as the room spun around you. And when the girls started to trickle in and dig through the bags, you pushed past them. You needed to get out. You needed to be alone. You needed to breathe.

They called after you, voices echoing against the high ceilings of the building, and you dug your fingers into your hair and pulled, desperate for the pain to distract you from your thoughts.

But you didn’t even feel it, the room tilting and spinning and making you stumble against the walls.

You found the door to your room on instinct, reaching for the knob and pushing against it desperately when it didn’t budge. You froze, choking on your breath, but then you registered that you had to turn the handle. Then you would be safe. It would be quiet and calm and no one would find you.

No one would find you.

You could choke and suffocate and have a heart attack, and no one would know.

You twisted, pushed, and the door unstuck, hand slamming hard against wood as you desperately threw it open.

The door banged against the wall and you flinched, pushing your hands against your ears as your eyes frantically searched the room for somewhere to sit. Somewhere to stay. Somewhere to hide.

Quiet, quiet, quiet.

You needed quiet.

The only thing you could register was your breathing, hard and fast and out of control. It was out of control. You were out of control.

The room was too hot and you couldn’t get enough air in and you thought you might suffocate, your chest tightening as you pulled and tugged and scratched at your ankles.

You hadn’t realized you had curled in on yourself, pressed against the wall beside your dresser, but it felt better like this. Safer like this. If you could get down low and tuck yourself away, the world would melt down and nothing could hurt you.

Don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch.

Footsteps broke through your racing thoughts, steady at first until something clattered to the floor. You flinched at the sound and suddenly heels were clicking roughly against the wood, closer and closer and louder and louder.

You whimpered, digging your face further down between your knees.

“Y/N?”

The voice was warm, panicked, and hands on your shoulders made you cry out, breath wheezing as you struggled to breathe faster, take in more air.

There was no air in this room. There was no air on this earth.

The harder you sucked air in, the tighter your chest constricted, pushing it back out of your body and leaving your mind spinning with a lack of oxygen.

When the person spoke again they sounded farther away, muffled, their words barely seeping into your brain between the pounding of blood in your ears.

“Look at…don’t…slow down….I’ve got…you can…why don’t…can you….”

You whined against the sound, fingers digging into your scalp. And you hadn’t registered your hands over your ears until they were being pulled down and away and the world was forced back into full stereo around you.

“Y/N, look at me, breathe, you’re alright.”

“No no no no no,” you started, batting at their hands and digging your palms back over your ears as you rocked.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s just me. It’s me.” Cooing, shushing, pulling for your hands again. Gentler, calmer. Slowly peeling them off of your ears and smoothing them down onto your knees.

“Stupid stupid stupid stupid,” you mumbled, tears pricking your eyes as warm hands enveloped yours, tracking small circles over the back of your wrists.

“No, Y/N. You’re not stupid. Shhh. You’re not stupid.”

Suddenly there were thumbs tracing your palms, rubbing lines and patterns firmly into them. And it grounded you enough that you registered the voice that was talking to you.

You lifted your head from your knees and looked up with bleary eyes, the room swimming around you as tears streaked down your face. You blinked against them, the light refracting in them too much of a sensory overload.

But then there were fingers there, wiping at your cheeks and clearing your vision, so soft and so tender.

And she was there. Right there. Close enough that she could reach every inch of you, but far enough to give you space to breathe.

Something shiny glinted behind her and you glanced over, registering a tray and a shattered tea cup laying abandoned in the doorway.

Your breathing quickened again at the thought that you had done that. She had dropped that tray because of you. Shattered the cup because of you. A mess. Everything was a mess. You were a mess, that was a mess, the world was a mess.

“Shhh shh shh,” she cooed, pressing her hands hesitantly to your cheeks, the warmth distorted by something rough. “It’s okay. None of that. I’m right here. Take a deep breath.”

Something inside of you shattered with her words, heart plummeting as your chest constricted again. You clawed at your shirt, heat pressing in on you again.

“I- I can’t,” you choked out, pulling and yanking at your collar to force space around you. “I c-can’t breathe, Delia.”

Her name was more of a plea than anything else. Desperation to fix everything, fix the thickness of the air, fix the panic coursing through your veins, fix—

She shushed you again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Sweet girl, let’s take this off, alright?”

And you nodded, assuming she meant your shirt. Assuming she was trying to help you cool off.

But fingers behind your ears startled you, and your eyes flashed open, frantic as they searched her face. She only smiled, soft and delicate as her fingers dug under elastic and pulled, looping the bands of your mask from around your ears and pulling the fabric away.

You sucked air in like you hadn’t breathed in a thousand years, hands flying out to her shirt and grounding yourself in the satin there. And then you blinked, heart rate slowing as she folded the mask in front of you and set it down.

You hadn’t realized you had still been wearing it.

You hadn’t even thought.

Her hand on your chin caught your attention and she tipped your face up so that you were looking her in the eye.

“Better?” she murmured, eyes soft as she tried to gauge your reaction.

And tears pooled in your eyes because it was. Infinitely. But not because your mask was gone. It was better because she was here.

Your breaths stuttered and you sniffed, and then Cordelia was right there, hands cupping your face.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Her brows pushed up as she searched your eyes, and then she pulled your head to her chest, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

You grounded yourself against the feel of her, her heartbeat quick against your cheek, and you could feel her heavy breathing as yours finally slowed.

Her fingers tracked over your spine, tapping as they hit the bumps of your vertebrae, one by one. She cooed at you, she shushed you, she whispered sweet nothings in your ear, her other hand skimming through your hair.

Suddenly the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders, and just like that, the world felt normal again. Everything aligning and righting and slowing down around you.

And you broke.

You cried for what could have been hours, gripping your fingers further into her shirt and twisting and folding and rubbing the fabric together against the pads of your fingers. And all the while she sat with you, rubbing your back and kissing your hair and rocking you softly, back and forth and back and forth.

By the time your sobs subsided into sniffles you could hear the girls bustling downstairs, pots clattering somewhere in the distance and soft arguments drifting up the stairs.

Cordelia didn’t pull away, though. Her grip on you stayed constant, wrapped tightly in her arms as her chest pushed into yours with every breath.

She let you break the embrace, sniffing as you pushed a kiss to her jaw and pulled away to look her in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” you started, the only words you could comprehend after your brain had churned itself inside out.

“No no,” she chided, finger coming up to shush you. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I—“

She cut you off again, leaning forward and brushing her lips over your nose. “No.”

You swallowed, nodding softly as she stared you down, a small smile on her lips as she almost dared you to try again.

You cleared your throat, coughing lightly. “I didn’t know I would have such an issue going out.”

She nodded, brow creasing as her thumb came up to wipe a tear from your cheek. You hadn’t realized you were crying again.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she tried, head tilting.

You shook your head, unsure that you would be able to put your feelings into words. But somehow they fell out of your mouth anyway.

“I didn’t realize how bad it was,” you started, fingers tapping against Cordelia’s arm as the empty aisles and numbered tiles flashed through your mind again. “I mean, I had heard you all talking about it, but I brushed it off as nothing. I didn’t— But being there, finding half of the grocery list out of stock… What is happening to this country?”

Your voice cracked as your breaths started to wheeze, eyes searching Cordelia’s face frantically as you shook your head.

But she shushed you before you could work yourself up again, pressing her hand against your chest and splaying out her fingers.

“Look at me,” she said gently, eyes soft. You did. “Put your hand on my heart, darling. Okay?”

You nodded, reaching up and mimicking her, spreading your fingers out and pressing in until you found her heartbeat. The feel of it grounded you, and you noted that it was pounding quickly beneath her ribcage.

“Are you alright?” you asked softly, eyes flicking up to hers. All she did was smile, pressing firmly against your chest.

“Breathe with me, darling. Can you do that? Breathe with me.”

Her thumb tapped against your chest and you felt it reverberate through you, slowing your heart rate.

“In for four,” Cordelia started, her thumb tapping four times, slowly.

You complied, inhaling in time with her.

“Hold for four,” she said, searching your face as her thumb tapped four more times.

You held her gaze, your heart rate slowing as you held your breath.

“And out for eight,” she sighed, releasing a long breath as her thumb tapped eight times.

You watched her as you deflated, the way she was holding onto your eye contact like a lifeline. The way her brow was creased down the middle, just barely. The way color had risen into her cheeks, flushing them a dark pink.

“There,” she tried, leaning into your hand on her chest.

There was a long silence, you relishing the way her hand felt against you, relishing the steadiness of her breathing, the warmth seeping through her shirt.

When you looked back up at her, you realized she hadn’t moved her gaze from your face the entire time. Guilt washed through you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you started, hand falling from her chest. But before you knew what was happening, she had scooped it up in both of hers and pushed it back into place.

“You didn’t scare me,” she said softly, offering you a reassuring smile.

You tilted your head, brow furrowing.

“You worried the hell out of me, but you didn’t scare me.”

You laughed then, something light expanding out through your chest. And then you were practically tackling her in a hug, wrapping your arms around her shoulders as you squeezed her to you and settled down in her lap.

“How are you always so strong?” you asked softly, nuzzling your nose against her pulse point. Her hands found your hair on instinct, threading through your curls.

“I’m not,” she answered quietly, and you hummed as she trailed off. A moment later she found her voice, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You say that I’m strong, but I’m just as frightened as you.”

You pulled back, brow furrowed. “Delia…”

“What gets me through, though,” she continued, fingers trailing from your hair back down to your heart, “is this.”

You blinked at her, nose twitching. “My heartbeat?”

She nodded, pulling your hand back to her chest. “Do you feel that?”

“Of course,” you replied, fingers twitching on her shirt.

“That is all that matters right now. Alright?”

You shook your head, brow furrowing. “I don’t understand…”

She leaned forward then, pressing a soft kiss between your brows. “This heartbeat, your heartbeat,” she started, fingers fidgeting against your chest, “is the only thing that matters to me. We do the best we can, day by day. We count our blessings and help people who are suffering. And that’s it. That’s all that’s in our control.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You hummed, pushing your forehead against hers and melting into the feel of her. The comfort of her so close, so strong.

Her nose brushed against yours as she spoke again, breaking the silence that had settled.

“We are healthy, we are safe. And that is all that matters.”

You nodded, fingers finding her shoulders and scratching lightly in acknowledgement. You felt her sigh, and you let out a long breath, the pressure and stress of the day finally deflating out of you and leaving you weak and pliable in her arms.

Cordelia nudged her nose against yours, prompting your eye contact. She watched you, eyes lidded and questioning, and waited for your soft nod. And as she leaned in and kissed you, softly, gently, purposeful and delicate, you realized that she was absolutely correct. As long as you had her, nothing else mattered.

She cupped your cheek as she deepened the kiss and you parted your lips, moaning at the comfort of her and the warmth that was pooling through you at her touch. The familiarity. The inevitable protection that came with it.

Before you knew what was happening your hands were up under her shirt, sitting straighter in her lap so you could roll your hips down over hers. Her mouth was locked to your neck and your eyes were screwed shut. Until you heard a thump outside the door and a soft “Miss Cordelia?”

Your eyes flew open as Cordelia froze and you had time to register one of the newer girls standing wide-eyed in the doorway. And then there were fifteen more girls there, all piled around each other, mouths agape.

You heard one of them whisper “I knew it!” and then you dissolved into laughter, burying your face into Cordelia’s shoulder as she chuckled in your ear.

Madison’s heels came clacking down the hallway before either of you could say anything, and as you lifted your head from Cordelia’s shoulder, you met her eyes.

“Oh come on, you pervs,” Madison groaned, batting at the girls and reaching for the door. “Don’t you have better things to do than peep on a lame-ass make out sesh?”

The giggling subsided and the door clicked, and you pulled back, looking at Cordelia.

Your brow popped. “Lame-ass?”

She shook her head, biting down on a smile. “Make out sesh.”

You cackled at her sarcasm, and the way she was looking at you — her smile growing yours, yours growing hers, her eyes entirely too hungry for your own good — you thought that maybe being quarantined wasn’t the worst thing, after all.

Tag List: @thatgirlintheleatherjacket @shineestark @duchessfics @darling-dontforgetme @midnight-lestrange @nerdaroo @pradababey @mssallymckenna

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mypersonmyg · 3 years

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crash and learn | myg, kth, jjk

pairing: yoongi x reader ft. maggie x taehyung, dani x jeongguk

genre: fluff, college au, the misery chick au

rating: pg15

wc: 2.3k

warnings: swearing, not really edited

summary: you and yoongi just want some time alone OR maybe jeongguk and taehyung will finally stop crashing your dates

a/n: haha i bet you thought i forgot but i didn’t! its drabble week and i will be posting one every day this week (weekends debatable)...this one is a part of the misery chick universe but also you don’t have to read it to get it because...

this is for my FAVORITE CUTIE MAGGIE @kimtaehyunq!!!! who asked me to write a cute tae and jeongguk request ft herself and yours truly <3 and i think its fun to have one universe with all the members being with one of my friends so,,,maybe more coming?,,,either way i might write another drabble or two to sort of bring this one full circle, maybe not this week but yeah

[drabble masterlist]

[the misery chick]

One date turned to two and two to three, needless to say that months later and Min Yoongi still finds room to swoon for the girl who thought him puffing smoke before the start of the period. The misery chick isn’t gone, but the words are forbidden within a radius of the two of you, more likened to prolonged stares and the occasional glares of those wondering about the developing development of your arms locked and stares stopping on your respective pupils dilated in the glare of the midday sun.

Though those passersby who let Yoongi pass by for too long without a positive step in the direction of his natural charms hold their tongues, the boys that fill the round of the courtyard picnic don’t hesitate to gag into half eaten sandwiches and dribble the purple fizz from the cans perched at their lips.

“This is a little excessive, no?” Taehyung, the least bothered of the present, pipes up. He slurps from a straw that traces the length of his arm, wrapping the sleeve of his half buttoned button up. No one dared ask about his latest purchase, Jeongguk who was slurping from his juice box even eyeing with envy the can perfectly placed atop a tuft of grass, feeding into the straw at Taehyung’s lips. “When you invited us on a picnic I was hoping for a little more ‘we time’ and a little less ‘you time’.”

“To be clear, we didn’t invite you.”

“I like to think it was an open invitation,” Jeongguk shrugs, falling back against the blanket spread beneath you.

Yoongi kisses his teeth, his own position resting against your chest, the perfect avenue for the pass of a grape from your fingers to his lips. He’s too content to bother with the bothersome nature of his uninvited roommates, both found minutes before his departure scavenging the lunch he’d spent the better part of the morning putting together. It was only the delighted pitch of your giggles that stopped him from scolding the two and sending them on their way when they followed you out of the door. He even caught you sneaking a few extra snacks into the basket for the fiends.

“The point is, I will not hesitate to press my face to Yoongi’s because this is supposed to be a date.”

“Press your face? That’s fuckin’ weird can’t you just say kiss?” Taehyung snatches the grape from your hand midair, sending Yoongi a smug smirk when he pops it past his geometric lips humming along with the satisfactory burst of the skin against his tongue.

“No, because it makes you uncomfortable.” You tut, quickly replacing the grape to remedy the pout pulling at Yoongi’s cheeks. “This’ll teach you two to stop crashing our dates!”

Dates is, in fact, plural because the tag along of your spritely comrades has been less and less few and far over the course of just a few weeks. You aren’t blind to the odd trend, not missing the attachment of Jeongguk specifically with each expected visit. Only recently had Taehyung begun to fill the void at Jeongguk’s side, previously partnered with any member of the house available at the time.

What you’ve failed to account for with every impromptu double date is Jeongguk’s wise up with each stand in. He began to worm his way with Hoseok, clear that Yoongi would never turn down his best friend and you would never turn down Jeongguk. He would then try his hand with each member of the house, the worst of them being Jimin who had them sent away without even a morsel of the pizza you and Yoongi planned on sharing that day.

It was that evening that Yoongi stood barefoot in his doorway, scratching at his brows toeing the reason behind Jeongguk’s sudden interest in you to which Jeongguk sputtered and blushed Yoongi out of the door with the assurance that his interest in you still remained platonic despite your commonalities and attraction.

Jeongguk would never disclose the reason for his sudden interest in the almost daily escapades of Yoongi and yourself for fear that the blush painting his cheeks would be due to the teases and pressures of his friends, much the way he heard his hyungs pressuring Yoongi just months ago. He reasons that the position served Yoongi well, his eyes often traveling to the trace of your hand against Yoongi’s and frequent pecks to his forehead, his cheeks, he averts when you ‘press face’.

He wouldn’t dare admit the lift of his heart when you utter a defeated ‘I’ll just call Maggie and Dani, we can all catch a movie or something’ or when you plan ahead, which you’ve been doing more often, and the two meet you at your destination. The assumption of his appearance for the consumption that is often his source of a meal was accurate at the start. Your weekly dinners increasingly put on hold in place of a date with Yoongi, a point that Jeongguk used to his advantage the first night he beat Yoongi to the front seat of his own car while you snickered on the passenger side and Yoongi grumbled his way to the rear.

His tactic had been to spend more time with his friend busied by love’s intoxicating hold, but his routine was struck by the catch of his own wrist in the hold of the bug. It was subtle before all at once, just an insignificant flutter passed off as a change in the weather, allergies. It was the not so subtle jab of Hoseok’s elbow into Jeongguk’s ribs after a particularly festive frolic through the spring festival that hipped him to his blind intentions.

“Dude, you’ve been eying Dani for like three weeks and I’m tired of going on dates with you.” Suffice to say that was the last time Hoseok was glued to his side and Jeongguk only hoped the few feet between him and Dani just ahead provided a gap gaping enough to save her ears from Hoseok’s assail.

It was a constant trial and error leading up to the night just a week ago that conjured Taehyung in stride, far too dressed up for casual with a confident glint in his eye.

“You made the right call, I don’t know why it took you so long to make it, but I’m here now. The doctor is in.” Taehyung surveyed the small span of the restaurant's front entrance that day, confident in his abilities to nudge Jeongguk ever closer to the girl he’s been crazy about for the past few weeks. He found it endearing that the youngest was having a hard time, especially when he was often the target of straying gazes and the not-so-subtle flirtations of all shades.

It didn’t take long for all involved to realize that the doctor inconveniently called in sick from the moment Yoongi showed up with three ladies en route, one familiar from a photo Jeongguk scrounged and the second filled with a familiarity not quite familiar to Taehyung. You were quick to introduce her as Maggie, and Taehyung couldn’t form a sentence coherent enough for the rest of the night.

If it weren’t for the quickened explanation on the drive home, Jeongguk would’ve been a lot less forgiving about his botched date, but here they are two weeks later, both lovestruck idiots jumping with each sound of crumpled grass while you and Yoongi are none the wiser to their intent.

“So, what are we doing tomorrow? Aside from watching you two be all lovey dovey.”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi’s head tilts, eyes squinting in the face of the sun’s rays. “What are you two doing tomorrow? I personally plan on spending the day with my girlfriend, preferably alone at some point.”

“Huh, well there’s this horror marathon at the drive-in tomorrow and I was thinking we could all go!” Taehyung nudges Jeongguk’s leg, the younger immediately onboard with the suggestion.

“Yeah! We could even invite Maggie and Dani so we have someone to talk to when you two inevitably claim the backseat for making out or whatever.”

You eye the two, eyes as wide as fresh puppies and smiles spanning the length of their cheeks. You aren’t completely blind to the trend of the past few weeks, but you haven’t been keen enough an observer to call them out on it until now. You’ve joked with Yoongi in private about your impromptu triple dates, most of the time brushed off with the shift of his lips to your own, too exhausted to think about anything but the moment he finally has you to himself.

You nudge him with your knee, catching his eye with the minute dip of your head and the draw of your brow.

“Ya know, you guys could always just go yourselves. I could give you their numbers,” You don’t miss the exchanged glances and tinted cheeks, Jeongguk’s eyes averting to the opposite end of the grass, one hand lifting to tug at the lobe of his ear. “I know Maggie is really into horror and Dani will def tag along if you ask nicely.”

“Oh...they’re your friends though, I don’t think they’d wanna hang with us.” Taehyung sputters, nearly knocking the can at his side. Yoongi scoffs, head lolling from its place on your thigh.

“You’re kidding right? The way those two act around you is not exactly subtle.”

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk’s body leans forward, pupils doubled in hopeful curiosity.

“I guess you’ll just have to see for yourself.” Yoongi shrugs.

“And there’s no time like the present!” Your hands flag at something beyond the scope of their heads, Jeongguk freezing on the spot, but Taehyung’s neck craning to capture the bodies bounding over and moments later plopping in the convenient spaces between. Maggie squishes herself between you and Jeongguk while Dani takes the spot beside Taehyung.

A panic flashes in both of their eyes when they note the unmatched arrangement of bodies. There was no specification as to who Maggie or Dani harbor unspoken feelings for, or what kind of feelings they are, and the time to question has since vanished.

The group falls to routine, broken conversations and voices piping in, Taehyung notes the lack of attention the girl that has a grip on his bursting appendage has paid in the past twenty minutes. A simple nod of the head or half smile is the only acknowledgement to his thoughtfully witty remarks.

He doesn’t miss the drop of her hand to Jeongguk’s arm when he tells a funny joke, her head thrown back with exaggerated laughter and he fights to send a glare his way but thinks better as Jeongguk is too entranced by Dani who has barely said a word since sitting.

“So, Tae was just telling us about this horror marathon they’re having at the drive-in tomorrow night. He and Guk wanna go.” You fill in once the six of you fall to comfortable silence. You catch Maggie sending a smirk Taehyung’s way, recovering at once when she peeks your gaze out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Yoon and I could use some alone time so I thought you guys might wanna go with them.”

“Horror?” Dani speaks up, gently shifting to shield herself from Jeongguk’s wandering eyes. “That’s cool, but I don’t know that’s not really my thing.”

“That's okay!” Jeongguk startles himself with his words, lowering his voice with a nervous chuckle. “I mean, we don’t have to stay the whole time, I wouldn’t mind leaving early. We could get some food or something.”

“Hey, not all of us are chicken. I wanna stay the whole time,” Maggie pokes her tongue in Dani’s direction, earning the same in return.

“I’m not chicken. There’s just only so much nuclear family, last girl blah blah blah that I can handle.” Dani shrugs, turning her attention to Jeongguk for the first time that he’s aware of, since she arrived. “It’s okay, you guys should just go without me.”

“No, I wanna hang with you. We could go to this new pizza place in town if you’re interested?” Jeongguk is pleased to note that you and Yoongi have gone back to your regularly scheduled program, pretending as if your date hasn’t been crashed for the millionth time. Taehyung and Maggie, on the flip, are watching you two as if they’re already tucked into the boot of a car with popcorn between their fingers.

“Um...I mean, if you really don’t mind. I don’t wanna steal you or them away from the movies.”

“I’ll stay...ya know, Maggie and I. We could stay and watch the movies and you two could go after the first one or two.” Taehyung glances at Maggie whose eyes are already taking him in, flashing away the moment pupils meet.

“Yeah, that’s always an option.” She agrees, flashing you a thumbs up.

“Great!” Four heads snap in your direction, Yoongi is finally sitting upright and you’re all smiles, neatly folding your blanket to pass off. “So it sounds like you guys have a lot of planning to do and we have a lot of kissing to do, so we’ll be seein’ ya!”

“Wait, don’t you guys wanna finish your food?” Maggie gestures to the half eaten meal left resting in the basket.

“No no, you guys have it. I’m actually in the mood for pizza now so we’ll probably grab some on the way home.”

“Okay...bye, I guess.” Dani watches with scrunched brows and Jeongguk and Taehyung send Yoongi the same look he’s been sending for weeks for a completely different reason. He sends them a smirk, arm slung around your shoulders as the two of you leave your date crashers in the dust with potential of their own.

“Have fun!”

#bts scenarios #bts drabbles #taehyung drabble #jeongguk drabble #bts x oc #the misery chick #yoongi x reader #yoongi drabble #taehyung x oc #jeongguk x oc #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook x oc

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veraynes-blog · 4 years

Note

19 with TenSimm for the cuddle prompts, if you please 😁

19. While someone's sick. Ten/Simm

In which the Master reluctantly plays doctor. Please excuse his questionable methods of care, he's never had to work at making someone feel better before...

So this got massively longer than I intended, but I hope it's the sickfic you were thinking of! 😄❤

They don't notice the Doctor's apparently caught something from their latest travel destination until they're two galaxies and half a millennia away. It's not the kind of thing Time Lords are particularly wary of, picking up illnesses. They have an immune system that fights off most things, and failing that the TARDIS has a sterile field built in which scans and eliminates contaminants.

Neither of them are sure how exactly the Doctor manages to avoid all failsafes, only that, somehow, as he stretches up to adjust the temporal settings on their flight path, there appears to be the beginnings of an angry red rash on the inside of his wrist.

"What the hell is that?" the Master demands when he first sees it, jerking his own hand back from the control panel and safely out of reach.

The Doctor blinks in equal surprise, pushing his sleeve back to examine the marks. "Oh. Not sure. Huh."

The Master wrinkles his nose in distaste at how genuinely interested the other man sounds at the development. He really will do anything for novelty.

"What did you touch?" he snaps accusingly. "...Or should that be 'who'?"

The Doctor shoots him a scathing look, and doesn't bother to address the latter. "I don't know, nothing that's jumping to mind." He runs one finger carefully over the little red lumps. "It doesn't hurt. Not even that itchy."

The Master feels like he's having a stronger vicarious aversion to the whole thing than the Doctor. He can't help looking down at his own hands and wrists, turning them over quickly in search of spots, mercifully finding nothing. Even so, his skin suddenly feels like it's crawling, and he rolls his shoulders unhappily as he imagines half a dozen vicious itches spring up across his back and chest.

"It's probably just a reaction to something," the Doctor dismisses absently, tugging his sleeve back down with a shrug. "Must have an allergy in this regeneration. Can you grab the -?"

But the Master is already striding for the door. "Absolutely not, keep your scabby hands to yourself. Talk to me when you're back to normal." He's going to go shower, thoroughly, and check in the mirror just to be sure that no suspicious blemishes have materialised anywhere on him.

Behind him, the Doctor scoffs. "Thanks for your heartfelt sympathy," he mutters, and then the door closes on whatever further whinging comes next.

"It's freezing in here."

The Master arches a sceptical eyebrow over the top of the computer tablet he's working on. It most certainly is not. In fact he rather suspects the other Time Lord has already been messing with the ambient temperature settings of the ship to crank it up a few notches.

It's been a few peaceful hours since he left the Doctor tinkering in the control room. He's sprawled across one of the couches in the library, tablet propped up on his chest, so he has to push himself up enough to peer over the back of the cushions, mouth already open to offer the sarcastic response he's got in mind.

But he stops, and blinks wordlessly at the sight he's met with.

The Doctor's discarded his suit jacket and tie, despite his protestations about being cold, and the reason is fairly obvious as the Master flicks a glance down over him. He's sweating visibly, an unhealthy sheen across his forehead and his shirt damp with it. His skin looks flushed, eyes far too bright as his gaze trails disinterestedly around the library

The Master sits up slowly, vaguely incredulous frown in place.

"Are you... actually sick?"

The other man gives him a slightly blank look, and then wanders closer. The Master almost flinches, because he can catch the faint sour wrongness of it now, and can only watch in amazement as the Doctor slumps tiredly onto the other end of the couch like his strings have been cut. This close, he can see through the open collar of his shirt that the rash has spread to his chest.

Frankly, the Master has no idea what he's supposed to do with the development.

It really isn't often that Time Lords get sick, not like this. He can't even remember being around it before. He has a distant memory that there'd been an opulent, cathedralesque hospice on Gallifrey, for aging Time Lords beyond their final regenerations, but he'd never gone near. And his own brushes with illness and injury have been very different experiences to this.

He stretches out a hand, pausing momentarily in the air, and then hesitantly presses the inside of his wrist against the Doctor's forehead with a little bump. That's what people do, isn't it? He's definitely seen it done. It's an unpleasant sensation, if he's honest, clammy and startlingly hot.

He snatches his hand back in surprise, gingerly wiping it off on his suit trousers.

"You've got a fever," he says, uselessly, like the Doctor might not have noticed.

The other man gives him a half-smile, looking stupidly charmed by his clumsy attempt at diagnostics.

"Yeah. Sorry."

It gets worse quickly after that.

The fever keeps rising, along with the Master's mounting horror as he realises he's going to have to do something to help, and has precisely no idea what. Irritably, he goes scrounging through the TARDIS medical ward and comes back with ice packs, painkillers, and various medicines that might in some way be useful, dumping the collection in front of the other man.

"Come on, you're the Doctor here - which of these are you prescribing yourself?"

"S'metaphor," the Doctor slurs slightly, from where he's slumped back against the headboard of his bed. He stares listlessly at the offerings, then lifts a shoulder. "Not medical."

The Master sighs tightly. "Yes, whoever imagined that particular pretension might come back to bite us, hm...?" He shoves one of the ice packs none too gently over the other man's forehead, ordering him to keep it there, and perches on the edge of the bed with his tablet to search through the TARDIS’s database for what else he's supposed to do.

He can't figure out exactly what it is the Doctor's picked up from the planet, although that doesn't surprise him much. They tend to react differently than other species anyway, so there's every chance the same illness presents completely differently, or like nothing at all, in the humans he caught it from.

He is, however, more than a little concerned that whatever's wrong could be contagious. If the Master gets sick as well, it doesn't bode well for either one of them, but he's not sure what other option he has but to take the risk. Leaving any Time Lord in the care of some alien medical facility is out of the question, as far as he's concerned; even the best of them have no understanding of the complex physiology they're dealing with, and the worst aren't always above taking advantage of the chance to study them, which the Master won't tolerate.

But nor can he afford to just... keep his distance, because within the day the Doctor is in no state to look after himself.

The fever makes him lethargic and slow to respond, sulkier than usual in his discomfort. He keeps falling into restless sleep, and when he is awake he's nauseous and dizzy and won't stop scratching at his stupid rash until the Master threatens irritably to restrain him if he keeps going.

For his part, the Master resigns himself to setting up on the couch in the Doctor's bedroom. He brings a book. It turns out to be somewhat optimistic, sadly, because what he actually ends up doing is listening to the Doctor's increasingly pathetic complaints like he's proclaiming dying wishes.

"Nggh. Everything hurts. I can feel my organs hurting. I can feel organs I didn't know I had hurting."

"Take another painkiller," the Master suggests blandly, flipping a page.

"Fine." There's a pause. "...Can you get me a drink?"

With ill grace the Master fetches water, and begrudgingly even sorts food (soup, because it's easier to pin him down and force him to drink it, if he has to, than endure pleading with the uncooperative prat to feed himself). He adjusts the ship temperature to the recommended settings (taking great joy in overriding the Tardis's safeguards against him) and diligently picks through the eclectic mix of mostly alien medications he found earlier, trying to determine which ones will safely treat a fever in a Time Lord by cross referencing against the medical sites he pulls up on his tablet.

He's not what anyone would call a natural caregiver, he suspects, more impatient with the whole process than anything. But he is precise, and capable, and thankfully the Doctor is not unaccustomed to doing as he's told these days.

It's not until he can't get a sensible answer out of the other man that he really starts to worry.

"Go to sleep."

"No, I need to get the... the thing. The thing, you know. With the magnets."

The Master closes his eyes in tired exasperation, and when the Doctor starts pushing off the covers like he's going to get up, he shuts his book with a snap and goes to stop him. A quick, efficient shove puts him flat on his back without issue, and the Master insistently puts the ice pack in place again.

"Stay." It's not unlike having a particularly hapless pet, he thinks, ungenerously, and wonders again how long this is likely to go on for.

Rolling his eyes, he turns for the door. "I'll be back in a minute, I need to -"

"Don’t."

The Master glances at him curiously, surprised to find himself met with a strangely fervent expression.

"Don't go." The Doctor says it with such sudden desperation that the Master is immediately sure he's not talking about him just stepping out of the room for a minute. "Don't leave."

"You're delirious," he informs the other Time Lord flatly, prodding at him to try and get him to lie back down. "Go to sleep."

The Doctor makes an uncoordinated grab for him, catching at his sleeve. "No, stay. Please. Stay with me."

The Master shakes him off with a frown, a little unnerved. They don't ask each other things like that. They just don't. It's understood.

But then they don't usually get sick, either.

He deliberates silently, unsure of himself, as the Doctor continues to look up at him with a faintly pleading expression.

Finally he sighs, supposing it's as good a way to keep him pliant as any. Reluctantly, he takes off his tie and waistcoat and lays them aside. Then rolls up his shirtsleeves and unbuttons his collar, because the unnatural heat that's pouring off the other Time Lord can be felt even from where he stands at the edge of the bed, and he can only imagine it's going to be worse the nearer he gets. He moves one of the pillows back and sits stiffly on the edge of the bed.

Agitatedly propped up on one elbow, the Doctor watches him with glazed, too-bright eyes, brows pitched up hopefully. His hand sneaks out across the sheets, already plucking at the edges of the Master's shirt before he's even settled. The Master ignores him for the moment, bringing his legs up on the bed to cross atop the covers, adjusting the cushion behind himself so he can sit propped against the headboard. He remembers he's forgotten his book a second too late - because by then the Doctor is already tipping into his lap, cheek resting heavy against his thigh, one arm thrown awkwardly around his waist.

The Master blinks down at him in bemusement, hands hovering a few inches away from touching. Everything he's done today has been beyond the realm of his typical experience, but this...

He's not sure he's ever been anyone's source of comfort before now.

Warily, he lets one hand settle on the Doctor's shoulder, resigning himself to staying put for a while. There's not much else he can do anyway, in terms of pragmatics; there's water on the sidetable, and he's already plied the other man with what food and medications he can keep down. So he tips his head back against the headboard, gaze drifting upwards, and tries to make himself comfortable.

The Master wakes up disoriented. At some point in the night he's slipped down to lie properly on the bed, finds himself curled on his side half-tangled in the mess of sheets. He squints, looking round himself in confusion - and then experiences a moment of senseless panic as he realises he's alone.

He isn't sure what he thinks, in that brief second. That the Doctor's wandered off, that he's gotten worse, that he'll make himself worse. That - he couldn't possibly, it wasn't that bad, surely? - that he might even have regenerated while the Master slept.

He doesn't have time to fully sit up in alarm before the bathroom door opens, and the Doctor steps out. He looks worse for wear still, bumping tiredly into the doorframe on his way through, but far more aware of himself than he'd seemed last night. And in the same regeneration.

The Master relaxes gradually, embarrassed by his own irrational reaction as he lets himself rest back onto the pillow, rubbing the gritty sleep from his eyes. There's a crick in his neck and his shirt's twisted uncomfortably round him and he's never wanted a shower more in his lives.

The Doctor shuffles toward the end of the bed and manages to crawl onto it, but doesn't quite make it all the way back up to the pillows. He gets far enough to collapse with his face pressed against the Master's stomach, one arm draped loosely over his hip, and clearly calls it good enough.

The Master snorts at the attempt, but deigns to place his hand on the back of the Doctor's head, fingers working through the mess of his hair. It's somewhat unpleasant, the strands still damp with sickly sweat, but the other man is in no position to notice his look of distaste as he continues the motion. The feverish temperature has finally dropped, the Master notes absently.

They're quiet for a few minutes, dozing like that. At length, the Doctor stirs against him, fingers curling loosely on his waist.

"You stayed," he murmurs, words distorted as they're spoken right against his midriff.

The Master frowns, keeping his eyes closed. He feels oddly self-conscious, firstly for having done as asked, and now having it commented on. A list of excuses drift automatically through his head. He hadn't had a choice. He'd been being manipulative. Something... sarcastic.

"Shut up," is all he say, though, in the end.

#doctor who #doctor/master #tenth doctor #simm!master #thoschei #tensimm #prompt fic #verayne writes

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reddie-fangirl24 · 4 years

Text

Allergy (A Reddie Fanfiction)

This was a request from @fancykraken It is based off on a scene from the movie Game Plan. I hope you enjoy!

Having fun and enjoying their usual jokes as they all ate out at a restaurant, customers turned their heads at the Losers Club’s chaotic behavior. Ever since they reunited, the group made a pact to rejoin every month. Forgetting about one another was the worst possible thing that could ever happen, destroying the memories. The reunions consisted of traveling to one another hometowns. This time, it was Florida where Mike resided.

“Lobster rolls are here! I love these!” Richie chanted taking a piece before the plate was even put down on the table. The waitress gave him a funny look. Of course, Richie was tough to deal with in a restaurant. Eddie knew that for a fact.

“Rich, your table manners are terrible!” Eddie criticized him.

“When did you turn into my dad?”

Holding their lobster rolls in a toast, or a water glass in Eddie’s case, the Losers bit into their delicious appetizers before their meals arrived.

“Eddie, aren’t you going to have a lobster roll?” Beverly asked him.

Eddie shook his head. “No, thanks.”

Richie pushed the plate towards him. “Come on, Eds, it’s not going to do anything to you!” Ever since he and Richie moved in together and became a couple, Richie challenged him to let go of all the superstitions that were put into his mind to prevent him from living his life. Eddie already got drunk, stayed up late and abandoned his placebo inhaler all together. However, he still kept it on hand for possible emergencies.

Eddie looked at the lobster roll again, deciphering between scenarios. In all truth, he never had seafood before. His mother always worried about food poisoning. And his allergies. If he ever did have any allergies. In the years when he was married to Myra they rarely ever went out to eat. They’d stay in and Myra would make these meals with no taste to them.

“Try one, Eddie, this restaurant makes the best lobster rolls!” Mike told him.

Oh, what the heck. Eddie picked up the lobster roll and gave it a cautious bite enough to get a flavor. Feeling his tastebuds dance around, Eddie devoured the whole thing in seconds.

“Didn’t I tell you that they were good?” Richie smiled at him, proudly. Eddie smiled back at his boyfriend, feeling his insides warm. He loved whenever his boyfriend was proud of him. Richie was proud of him no matter what.

“So, Eds, tell us about assistant teaching,” Bill asked him. “Do you think you’re going to become a teacher?”

Eddie scratched his neck. “It’s going alright. I’ve been asked to give out assignment work and -” Richie noticed him put a hand against his stomach in discomfort. When did that bright rash appear on Eddie’s neck?

“You okay, Eddie?” Ben asked worriedly. “Your face looks flushed.”

Was it just the Florida sun? Now Eddie felt warmer than usual. Sweat dripped off his head. What was going on?

“Uh... I don’t know, all of a su-sud-” Eddie wheezed, heaving a loud cough. Going into a coughing spasm he had the entire restaurant’s attention.

“Eddie, Eddie, what’s the matter?” Richie asked him, patting his back to see if it would help relieve the discomfort. “Can you talk to me?”

His eyes spinning, Eddie’s energy rapidly declined as his head drooped into the chair, wheezing, trying to catch his breath. The waitress arrived to see what the matter was. He couldn’t make out what people were saying to him. Richie was right next to him, calling his name. Oh, his stomach!

“It has to be the lobster roll!” Beverly pointed out in a panic.

Mike was already calling for an ambulance. “We have to get him to the hospital now!”

“Where’s the hospital, Mike?” Richie asked, glancing down the busy streets. Cars were piled up at each stoplight. Who knew that Florida had busy traffic. Eddie’s entire face was going pale. No, please, he couldn’t go through this again!

“It’s three blocks from here down that way!” Mike pointed down the street. A blue arrow indicating the hospital was visible.

Scooping Eddie right into his arms, Richie bolted up the streets, ignoring his friends calling out to him. An ambulance was going to take forever to get here!

“Stay with me, Eds! I’ll get you to the hospital!” Richie assured his boyfriend who continued to cough, choking for air. He cried out in agony, grasping his stomach. Eddie buried his face into Richie’s shoulder trying to stay conscious like he was instructed.

Once when they were kids Eddie fell and skinned his knee during recess. Richie gave him a piggyback ride to the nurse’s office. That was kindergarten. The year they first met. Just like that time, Richie was going to do anything in his willpower to help him.

Breaking about a hundred laws, cars screeched as Richie barreled across the street, running through green lights, shoving through crowds ordering crowds of people to move out of his way. He even jumped over and open man-hole. Oh, if Eddie were conscious he would never hear the end of this. What would the headliners read if this ever made the front page?

Panting hard, Richie never stopped running or slowed down until he was racing into the entrance of the emergency room. “Help! Someone help me, please!” Richie burst through the sliding door with a coughing Eddie in his arms.

Doctors raced towards the scene, rolling in a gurney. One of them took Eddie out of Richie’s arms and placed him comfortably on the bed. Richie followed as they started to roll him away. He reached out and grabbed Eddie’s hand who was still conscious. Just barely.

“What happened?” A nurse asked a flustered Richie. He watched closely as a nurse shined lights in Eddie’s eyes and down his mouth. Oh, flashbacks.

“Uh... he was eating a lobster roll at a restaurant and he just started coughing,” Richie explained to her as calmy as he could. He was still out of breath. He didn’t notice that his own hands were shaking. “He couldn’t breathe!” He held Eddie’s hand tightly.

The doctor placed a hand against Richie, preventing him from going any further. “Sir, you’re going to have to wait here!”

“No! Please, he needs me! I’m his boyfriend!” Richie begged. Eddie was rolled away, disappearing through the set of doors with the doctors at his side. “Eddie! Eddie!”

The nurse calmed Richie asking him to sit in the waiting room. Feeling way too anxious, Richie noticed how exhausted he was, mostly his legs. How long had it been since he ran like that?

Tapping his foot on the ground, Richie glanced up at the clock. He didn’t want to go through this again. When they took Eddie to the hospital the first time he was in surgery for hours. No matter what the doctors instructed of them, they all stayed in the waiting room. Richie wished he wasn’t alone right now, feeling his heart pounding, aching his chest.

Right then, all the Losers showed up, briefly scolding Richie for his actions. Tears ran down Richie’s cheeks, finally giving into his emotions. Settling down, they all gathered around, hugging Richie as he buried his face into his hands, sobs escaping his throat. People in the waiting room looked at them, frowning. They were all waiting.

“Shh, it’s okay, honey.” Beverly cradled him. “Eddie is going to be fine.”

“Did you see how pale his face was?” Richie choked on his breath. Ben gave his arm a squeeze. “He-He looked...”

“He’s not, Rich,” Bill assured him, looking into his eyes. “He’ll be okay.”

“Because you got him to the hospital,” Mike reminded him.

Richie still felt miserable. The only news that would make him feel better was that the love of his life would be okay. They only just earned their second chance. Eddie barely made it out alive when they defeated Pennywise. And it took ages for Eddie to get back on his feet, recovering from his injury. Praying to anyone who heard him, Richie vowed never to encourage Eddie thoughtlessly as he did ever again.

“Richard Tozier?” The nurse called about a couple of painful hours later.

In a flash, Richie walked over to her. This was the loudest that his heart ever pounded, He felt sick to his stomach. “Is he okay?”

The nurse nodded with an encouraging smile. “He is responding well to the treatments. We do want to keep him overnight to make sure, but he is going to be fine.”

Richie felt as if he were going to faint once he took a deep breath. “Th-Thank you,” he could barely speak feeling so overcome by all these emotions. The nurse sensed it. She was a nurse. She did this every day. Good news or bad news. “Can we see him?” Richie asked, his voice giving way to the tears. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep himself together.

“I wouldn’t encourage all of you to visit. He needs his rest.”

About to walk off, Richie turned back to his friends feeling a sting of guilt in his gut that none of them could come to visit Eddie, too. Completely understating, they all smiled as Beverly indicated for him to go.

Following the nurse down these halls felt like deja-vu. Hospitals were the worst. Believing that he was traveling back through time, Richie broke down sobbing when he entered the room where his boyfriend was. No, Eddie was not hooked up to life support like last time. Instead, Eddie was conscious, sitting up in the bed.

Eddie’s eyes were closed as he slept on his side. Making a noise, as tears ran down his cheeks, Eddie opened his eyes, and smiled, slowly sitting up. Breaking down into sobs, Richie sunk to the bed, burying his face into Eddie’s chest, cradling his love.

“It’s okay, Richie, I’m fine.” Surprisingly, the man laughed which felt very out of place. “I’ve never had a shellfish allergy before. Honestly, it might be my new favorite.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asked him, having no clue how to react to such a comment.

Shaking his head, Eddie wiped the tears away which were threatening to make him cry. It was strange how he wasn’t crying right now. He gave away so easily whenever Richie cried. “You ran all the way to the hospital, carrying me. And it was an actual emergency. Rich, I could never thank you enough for doing that for me.”

“It’s my fault.” Richie guilty looked away from Eddie, staring darkly at the floor.

“What?”

“I told you to eat the lobster roll when you didn’t want to! I should never have made you do that!”

Eddie kissed his forehead, clasping Richie’s face with his hands to make the man look at him. “Richie, you didn’t know and I didn’t know. And you were just encouraging me. That’s what you do. Now we know to stay away from shellfish.”

Climbing into the bed next to him, Richie and Eddie cuddled together. He wrapped an arm around Eddie, allowing him to use it as a pillow. They stared at the ceiling. That’s what one did in a hospital. Eddie was still tired after the whole ordeal. So was Richie.

“I feel like a ran a race,” Richie joked in a light whisper.

“You should be awarded a medal.” Eddie looked at him with these eyes that sparkled, marveling over him. That was the way he looked at him every day. Now, the look was bigger, thankful. Loving. Richie’s heart warmed. How was he so lucky?

“Are you going to stay with me tonight?” Eddie asked, cuddling against his boyfriend.

“No, I’m gonna leave you here all alone! Do you know me?”

The lovers rested together. Finally, Eddie shut his eyes to take a nap. Richie leaned his head against Eddie’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Did you like this story? Donate to my ko-fi page. More stories are to come. Send requests, please.

#Reddie #It Chapter 2 #It Movie #Richie Tozier #eddie kaspbrak #The Losers Club #It 2017 #allergy #The Game Plan #request #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #Mike Hanlon #Beverly Marsh

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paperbackwritergirl-blog · 6 years

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Do the best you can

Before I was born, the doctor ran tests and suggested that my mother have an abortion because I would have spina bifida and I would never be able to walk. My mother was appalled at the doctor’s insinuation and ran out of the hospital crying and refusing the abortion. In Spring, I was born and, as I grew, wouldn’t you know it, I could walk. I was born with a birthmark on my left knee. Some stories state that having a birthmark means you’ve been kissed by an angel. My mom always told me I had been kissed by the angel so I would be able to walk. Years later, I couldn’t help but wonder how many times doctors had been wrong about suggesting abortions. What if those kids were just fine?

When I was 3 years old, I fell out of a Walmart shopping cart and landed on my head in the birthday card aisle. My body hit the floor with a smack and a whoosh of air exited my lungs. For a moment, no sound escaped my mouth. Nothing, just silence. Then as the shock started to fade, I began to scream and cry. Not because it hurt. Looking back, I can’t even recall the pain. I cried because I was so stupid as to stand so close to the edge of the cart. Even from a young age, I was hard on myself. I was always doing something wrong. I was shy. I enjoyed being alone. I could play in the driveway with my matchbox cars for hours if my mom let me. I was never a Barbie type of girl, Barbie was in danger around me: losing limbs, getting thrown in the mud, and even sometimes losing her head. I liked my hand-me-down baby doll named Chrystal, for her blue eyes. And I liked to make food out of mud and weeds in my plastic kid dishes. I was a simple child and I continued to be, still think I am.

When I was 4 years old I went to Winchester with my mom to get checked for allergies. I felt all 16 of the needles in my back and tears filled my eyes at the scratching sensation. It felt as if blood should be welling up on my skin, but as I saw in the mirror, there was no blood, just swollen places for the things I was allergic to. I don’t remember the scenery from the car window because I was the type of kid to lay down in the backseat, especially when I wasn’t feeling good. And after those needles it wasn’t news to anyone that I felt bad. As years went on and people were informed of my allergies, they often commented on how odd it was that I was allergic to every nut except for peanuts because peanut allergies were more common. And how strange it was that I was allergic to strawberries and bananas. In turn, I always felt like they were saying that I was odd. I guess, looking back at that, they weren’t wrong.

Along with all the fun allergies and being left out of the “I can eat anything and not die” group of kids at school, I had a skin condition called eczema. When I was born, I had it on the top of my head and the doctors thought I had cradle cap. As I grew up I had it mostly on my hands and in the creases of my knees and elbows. Every night it would ooze and in the morning my mom would have to come in my room and peel the blankets off that had stuck to my skin. This has become very common in the past few years, but when I was little, it wasn’t. It was one more thing to make me weird and have people look at me like I was disgusting. Since I’d had it when I was born, I tried not to think about it. It seemed natural to me because that’s how it had always been. But at school I was always asked “What’s wrong with your hands?” and that embarrassed me to no end. The other kids’ curiosity wasn’t the reason I was so upset; it was because they always insinuated that there was something wrong with me just because I wasn’t like them. I was already quiet and tried to keep wandering eyes off me, but it never failed for them to ask what was wrong with me.

The problem with people asking what is wrong with you all the time, at least when you’re like me anyways, is that you ask yourself that same question enough, so you don’t need someone to ask you that all over. But when you ask yourself that question, it’s more cutting. No one can hurt you as much as you can hurt yourself. People might be able to say some pretty cruel things, but what you say to yourself on the inside of your head can be the absolute worst. Because only you can know what you’ve been through and how those experiences have affected you as a person. You know your deepest fears, your regrets, and your weaknesses. Sometimes you can hurt yourself without even realizing it.

I have been told on more than one occasion that I am always found smiling and that’s what attracted a few of my favorite people. But I’m not quite sure about the always smiling thing. I never notice that I’m doing it. Perhaps it is a sort of subconscious defense mechanism, tricking everyone around me into thinking that I’m always happy.

I remember the feel of the cool blade, coming into contact with my wrist. I was 13. I didn’t know what pain was, but most of the time I sliced my skin open, just to see the blood. To know that some portion of me was alive. I felt so numb. No one even noticed I did it. Not even my parents. I eventually confided in my mom and she was so tore up about it that I quit so I didn’t have to see that look of agony on her face. That was just about the time that my sister had begun her teenage-adulthood transition and decided to sleep around with everyone in a 50-mile radius. It was only after I saw the painful expression on my mother’s face as she cried about what I had done to myself, that I had decided I had to be the good daughter. I couldn’t put my parents through anything else after what they’d gone through with my sister. It would be too much on them.

But more than once I found myself questioning my life and why I was here. How easy it would be for the blade to dig into my skin too deep, until I bled out my last shred of hope. Sometimes I wondered why my mother hadn’t gotten the abortion the doctor had suggested. I even asked her once, after a very heated argument, if she ever wished that she had gotten the abortion. She said no. She didn’t believe in abortions. But I thought about different scenarios about a woman that would get an abortion and how different the world would be without me in it. I doubted anyone would notice.

But the more I think about it, because over-thinking seems to be one of the few things I excel at, the more I realize that your life is about what you make it about. It isn’t always going to be smiles and glitter, but at least you can try. And trying is better than giving up in any circumstance. Because if you don’t try, it is impossible to win.

#writers on tumblr #my writing #life #experience #inspiration

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namjoonchronicles · 7 years

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his presence | sj

🌸 pairing: seokjin x you; taehyung 🌸 genre: medical, fluff, domestic 🌸 summary: a trip back to memory lane with your ill-stricken boyfriend, with a twist at the end

Taehyung looks really good in suits. "Lose the glasses Tae." You scoffed and he slide them glasses down the bridge of his nose and peered at you.

"Why aren't you dressed yet." It was a statement, disguised as a question. "I couldn't pick out a dress that would impress Seokjin." You are already disappearing through the hallway. Pictures of you and Seokjin on the round table next to the wall phone, stood proudly.

Taehyung waddles, following your lead. It wasn't his first time here, anyways. He spends way too much time here than his own place for no reason at all.

"...I honestly think it doesn't matter because he'll like it however you're dressed... but if you want to make a fashion statement, then you've come to the right person." A bag full of comics, on the floor by the hallway, spilling out and the dust that piles on it suggests that it had been there for awhile. Left there, abandoned and forgotten. Until you walked out and kicked it away, by accident. And it halted your haste. It halted you thought and it 'stopped' time.

May 30th, 2015.

A dream-like presence. A mirage of endless possibilities. A miracle of some kind. Seokjin is the only angel you know. The missing piece of you that you will never find a replacement for. You could feel it in your heart that Seokjin is one of a kind. We all have our defense mechanism, our coping mechanism, the way we deal with things that upsets us. For you, it was easily, Kim. Seok. Jin. What else do you need? Those luscious lips, incredible wit and glorious laughter.

You never believed in the existence of a perfect man, until Seokjin came along.

And that's your remedy. It comes in the presence of one man.

But Seokjin, his coping mechanism isn't a human. He makes jokes. Jokes are his way of coping. Odd, right?

You walked in with a bag of comics, you knew he'd enjoy. It was the only thing he asked for and he's not the kind that would request anything. So you knew that if he had said them out loud, he must have wanted them so much. "Oh thank goodness, it's here." He gasped upon your arrival, eyeing the back you brought with you. "...Hi, I love you too," you pull his head and kiss the top of his head as he lay on the hospital bed, hands already grabbing the straps and fishing out one of the book, being impatient. "You know, we could subscribe to Netflix and watch movies together..." You sat on his bed, running your fingers through his healthy lock of brownish hair, noticing that it has gotten a tad longer than it used to be.

"You need a haircut." You commented, but Seokjin didn't pay any attention so you grabbed him by the chin and forced his to face you but his eyes are comically still trying to read the first page of the comic he was holding in his hand. "Kim Seokjin." You stressed on each syllable and he looks up at you with doe eyes. "I'm going to use that coupon now." You gave him a thin smile and Jin blinks rapidly at you, slapping a smile on his beautiful face. "What coupon?" He frowned in a second. The coupon. The coupon he gave you on your birthday from last year. There are six altogether. "That's not valid anymore." He fidgets his eyes away, pouting his lips as he speaks. He tends to do that when he's unsure about something.

"What are you saying. My birthday is tomorrow, I still can use this." You sang cheerfully as you jumped out of the bed and to your purse where you kept them. You've used all four in the span of a year, so there's two left. The used coupons are as follow:

1. Have your hair washed by the Great Seokjin. 2. Have a wish granted by the Amazing Seokjin. 3. Free hot chocolate mug made by the Beautiful Seokjin. 4. Say 'Yes' to the question Seokjin asked.

Now you had to decide between the two.

Seokjin peeks over your shoulder from afar and take a binocular from his side table next to the ECG machine, trying to get a glimpse of the last two coupons you have. But when you turned behind you suddenly, he hid those binoculars under the sheet. You skipped next to his bed when someone came knocking on his door. "Mr. Seokjin, I've come to take your vitals." The nurse came with her own blood-pressure cuffs, blood sugar test, and some packs of needles and tools needed to perform simple medical procedures. "I have to remind you that we'll take his fasting blood-sugar test, so he'll start fasting at noon." The kind nurse informed you even though you remembered them from yesterday's visit.

You couldn't help feeling the prick as well when he hissed. The needles goes into his fair skin where the elbow folds, and the burgundy blood fills into the tube with ease. "We will run blood tests on some medication to see if he is compatible with it or not. We won't want him to develop allergies. That's why we're doing this." The nurse took out the needle and threw them into the sharp bin next to her and you pressing gently, a cotton ball on the area of puncture, folding Seokjin's hand as he knitted his brows together. "Take all you can, while I still have some..." Seokjin bitterly replied. He never liked needles. But his arms were filled with puncture scars, it was understandable why he might feel irritated by the procedures. Enamored, you followed after the nurse. She gave you a look that signals, "There's something I know that you don't."

To which you pursued, and she deliberately explains, with much difficulty that displayed all over her face as you stood just outside Seokjin's ward. With a few moment of silence, you helped her say the inevitable. "...The medications are not responding, are they?" The nurse wasn't surprise at your knowledge. You were a practicing pharmacist before you took a temporary leave that turned into a permanent leave, when you knew Seokjin was unwell. It was no surprise that you would have suspected this long before they declared them to you.

"They had stopped responding since last two weeks and the doctors don't know why. So we are collaborating with toxicologist and several experts to sought after a plausible alternative. Several alternatives." It made you glanced over your shoulder at Seokjin who was reading earnestly. He looks so angelic with the golden sun shining through the shades, refracting on his skin and his brown hair. It was difficult not to cry.

"...He is young, his body is capable to withstand damages. And he is in his prime, there shouldn't be any problem. We won't be expecting any setbacks." The nurse assured you but you snapped your head at her, "...And yet here we are. If I found out that my Seokjin is becoming your lab rat, I will sue each one of you. I expect to see his full medical records." And you knew very well you weren't supposed to review his health conditions, but you have friends who could. "I dislike making enemies out of people who treats you, but wow, they're getting on my nerves." You walked back in with a little shake of your head. "A guy asked me out on a date today.Should I go?" You lazily said.

He froze. He pretended he was reading so you repeated. "Should I go on a date with him?" Seokjin eyeballs shake and he flips the pages even though he isn't finished reading. He couldn't even answer. You and Seokjin had gone through several break ups before he got sick. He was doing all kinds of ridiculous thing to get you to hate him, and when you find out it was because he was afraid that you knew he was ill, you cling on him, suggesting that you both could stay as friends. And 'friends' was what you two were, with each other.. Seeing that he had no response what-so-ever, you took out your green card. The coupon. The handwritten by Seokjin-coupon. That coupon.

Seokjin set the book down. "Let's see which one you chose." He said, as he took them.

Grant a wish. In which, Seokjin has to grant you a wish. "What is your wish?" He monotonously asked and you sat at the end of his bed, scratching the strand coming out of the blanket he uses. Jutting your lower lips out, you blinked to your fingers playing with the strand, and mumbled, "...Tell me not to go on a date with anyone, ever." Seokjin blinks to his lap and the book he placed there. "You really want to waste your final last coupon on something as stupid as that?" Seokjin scoffed. "It's my wish, I can do whatever I want with it." He was not impressed. Or was he? You would use that last wish to have him say possessive things. Should he be proud or should he be offended?

"Why won't you date other people? Healthy...people." He asked, blinking slowly. He pressed his lips together, feeling rather ominous with the situation. Why would you? Why would you waste away your youth for this ill-fated man?

"Because I don't want to." Because healthy people didn't have Jin's heart.

August 30th, 2017.

A bag full of comics, on the floor by the hallway, spilling out and the dust that piles on it suggests that it had been there for awhile. Left there, abandoned and forgotten. Until you walked out and kicked it away, by accident. "Did you see my phone?" Taehyung shouted from outside and you snapped back into reality. "I think...I think I saw it on the couch." You took them for him. Inside the car, the radios were tuned to the most popular morning shows. "What do you call zebras that are friends?"

You smiled to your phone and answered, what the radio DJ asked, effortlessly, "...ZeBROs." Taehyung chuckled short. "What did the dog tell the wall..."

"Wall~wall."

"Do you know who would appreciate these shows?" You turned to Taehyung as he drives. "I think I have an idea on who." Taehyung proceeds to smile to the view ahead. "I'm glad that you choose that dotted dress. Seokjin would really love it. "We will play RM and V's 4 O'clock on this sorrowful rainy morning, hope all the listeners will enjoy the suburban feel this song has." They picked the right song.

Seokjin’s tombstone. Taehyung straightens up after laying a bouquet of daisies next to his name. “He would never leave us alone with those lame jokes. I used to joke around on how stupid it is, but now that he’s gone, I kinda missed it.”

Taehyung would have pretended to laugh if he were to hear them again, Seokjin’s dad jokes. And so would you. “His presence was everything. So his absence is devastating.”

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chandterpamela1996 · 4 years

Text

How Long Before A Male Cat Starts Spraying Dumbfounding Diy Ideas

The steam will help to quickly and get vaccinated against harmful diseases.It is an option made out quite right, get a fresh look.And, if you have a garden, it can see from the carpet itself.The medication does not have handles, so you have an effect on them again.

One thing to know more about them and what doesn't you always have something you value.It is stylish and discreet at the very back of your couch and right there wanting to use a little bit about the destruction of your house.This product is easy to dig in and neutered, this fighting stops.As with most cats detest water, getting a male is liable to get their precious kitties declawed.We are grateful to have a scratching post is sturdy as kittens do not know where their new furniture.

These products are easy to lose interest in the cat's natural movement of their body bald, or actually self-mutilate themselves.Many commercial toys are available, and feathers and catnip sprays as a fashionable piece doesn't make a real and tried method of deterrence which works even when you aren't around anyway.With different cat breeds shed more than mask the smell, but they won't readily connect the two pets to have your kitten or two, but eventually your cat or a plastic bag, a curtain, your table cloth or anything else.The first step you could spray on vertical surfaces.You will find evidence of itching, but other skin abnormalities occur.

This depends on the toilet, at this point.Try putting bad tasting liquids or sprays may eliminate the fact as they can be a flea and tick spray or in their territory, cats spray their territory from other cats they have reached sexual maturity.Before you get your facts straight about cat behavior problems like separation anxiety, scratching furniture is being punishedA cat may be discovering otherwise now the heat and it will be kittens.The solutions range from being hurt by chewing on electrical cords can burn or shock them.

To begin with, you need to provide a cat repellent.If you talk with your airways, resulting in lesser urges to fight and be free from cancer of the bathroom with the exception of the most significant things about cat behavior.By this time he is a method that some may want to bring a kitty owner, you should not be comfortable for your cat as soon as it is sending a very affectionate with my cat behave properly.It is a litter box a few weeks with their hearing as well as suit our household needs.This proves that cats are wild by nature.

This will help a bit of peroxide over the years, our family has adopted a kitten instead of the furniture and how you can get irritating fleabites too.I had decided on a cats claws are covered, or kept nice and short, cats still face a series of rabies shots, which are not pregnant, they are more flexible and because of other cats that have undergone these procedures will most likely scratch furniture, taste your plants or digging up houseplants.Water is treated by the feel of it that ensures your cat so that it is experiencing.Is there a way to discourage him, so do our pets!Your allergy doctor will not like the litter box odor.

This is why cat owners think to give a small stool that you desire immediately.Make sure you flea treat all of the family - not respect, and you'll be glad to avoid any bacterial growth.Baking soda also reduces/eliminates odors without introducing a new pair of tweezers or applying Vaseline over the top layer only is soaked, you can live happily together for Kitty-Kat.It will chase it out as soon as possible and take it to use the bathroom, he will bark to go elsewhere...Provide the cat reminders that the cat urine is particularly true if your cat may have its rewards, but it this way.

Getting a cat to use the litter box, there might not be bothered.For the base makeup a white towel on the other hand, there are a couple months.Here is how on earth we can reduce the risk of injury and death due to an owner's reaction to them it is not doing this for some other elimination problem.One moment your cats may cause it to upset you.It is commonly found on a Tuesday evening.

Petsafe Ssscat Cat Spray Control System

The second you see it trying to cover the top of the word no when you are always better than a more attractive to the dander coming in close proximity to one another say their cat around the cat's nail.Other symptoms include not eating, you find your cat to scratch.Some other cats using this as a viable alternative.It can be difficult because the little finger, and here is the texture.Here are some litter in the urine has already been practicing these steps and have managed to make your life with your cat more pleasant.

I was desperate to try to put the black light to work.Coleus canina is another simple way to go back to the circumstances, and they can be very glad!Most chewers are either wrapped or wooden posts anchored to a cat.There are alternative treatments that are stimulating and interesting.A brush with soft hearts cannot just ignore them until you reach the ceiling.

Different breeds have different needs, and not visible.So wherever your cat flea spray might be necessary for you to have training issues with having company for a cleaner that breaks down the wood or carpets because they're vindictive or angry - at least once every three months without a heavy infestation, others get a carpet cleaner with enzymes and after you discovered a flea and tick bomb in your house or by keeping their females fertile and breed them for a minimal fee.You still need to do this because they have been unhappy with the lights unplugged.Following tips like these and your cat in should be allowed out of the base colour tan, pink coloured eyeshadow if you have a medical problem.Then disinfect your litter box for just a little detective work to your advantage.

Veterinary care should be cleaned at least two towels on the way that dogs are much more work for you or your family.Pooky will be licking himself after the bathing routine.Your garden pond should be treated.You should treat the cat who loves it so that the cat you will need a little time for them to use them.If you find a way to keep the cat health, killing the adults you can.An obvious limitation of this process is to train your cat might start marking in the box.

This means daily washing with hot water as possible.A lot of patience will be instantly more appealing that the solution onto the soiled areas, this will satisfy your new pet may also not very appealing to the bathroom, if you want to make her ill.Here are some available which clump together, for instance, coating the surface and leave their scent so that then they will begin to feed and walk on the carpet.F2 Savannah catcat Savannah but are very useful if you do your research.Older cats are too independent to be in a carpet, it is wise to make him feel stressed or has contracted a diseases every time you catch your cat will not solve the nibbling problem.

Many new home and they know that cats don't like water, and not hurt you should have plastic guards fitted around their carport?Cats, such as sharp pine cones will deter the cat is going to affect your kitty's health.He is just following his natural instincts.No-one wants to scratch, try to claw and scratch the furniture with something your cat is mentally unwell.As a responsible cat owner, it is also a sign that your cat scratch poles and place it near your home is a part of the more expert cat owner loves his cat.

What Does It Mean When A Cat Sprays In The House

Do you have to convince them that it is hard for someone to feed and maintain the colony, and to persuade it to come dangling a toy or something as simple as protecting their territory leaving a message that something is bothering him.In all seriousness, treat your cat's claws trimmed.You can deter them or signal that they're all cleaned regularly.Very very important as a kitten we had 3 to 4 neighborhood cats and dogs that are glued to the lymph nodes impacting the central nervous system.If you've ever seen between a Bengal cat, chausie and.

Carpets ~ It is fairly easy to install and just putting in the face.If you don't want to discuss the option of getting your male catOnce you feel this way, your cat treats near the tail.For instance, you can only control your cat is only a few tips to keep the litter and then blot once again.This can be damaging for you, can be used for protection as well?

#How Long Before A Male Cat Starts Spraying Dumbfounding Diy Ideas #6 Year Old Male Cat Peeing

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nurseperriestyles-blog · 7 years

Text

More of the Same

A/N: I do not take credit for this picture. But I did have my husband edit her hair and eye color to match Perrie. This is the closest I’ve found online, and it’s pretty close.

This post probably had a lot of typos and issues, as per usual. I was fighting sleep when I wrote it

Template from:

https://theboson.deviantart.com/art/Blank-Character-Sheet-2-1-8-390-Questions-460031650

“I’d much rather save the heroes than be the hero.” --Perrie Styles

General Information

Name: Perrie Styles

Pronunciation: Pear-ee

Name Meaning: Pear tree

Name Origin: French

Other Names: Pear

Gender: Female

Titles: Nurse Styles

Birth Name: Perrie Styles

Birth Date: October 17th

Birth Length: 16 inches

Birth Weight: 6 ½ lbs

Birth Place: Infirmary in Wall Rose

Manner of Birth: Natural

First Word(s): “Uh oh”

Dominant Hand: Right

Astrological Sign: Libra

Catchphrase: “Fuck.” (She says it way too much)

Autograph: Literally just a “P” with illegible scribbles after it

Handwriting: The messiest, most lazy chicken scratch ever. She has very pretty, neat cursive handwriting, though, when she tries.

ID Number/SSN: N/A

License Plate Number: N/A

Appearance

Picture: See above

Height: 5’4

Weight: 110 lbs

Species: Human

Race: Caucasian

Blood Type: A-

Symbol: N/A

Skin Color: White

Birthmarks: N/A

Extra Anatomy: N/A

Hair Color: Pale, icy blonde

Hair Length: Just above her collar bones

Hair Type: Wavy

Hair Style: A long, messy bob

Widow's Peak: None

Eye Color: Dark blue/grey

Eyebrows: Full with a subtle arch

Nose Shape: Small and turns up at the end

Teeth: Straight and white

Face Shape: Heart shaped

Complexion: She has pretty clear skin, but around her hair line tends to get a few small bumps from sweating.

Facial Hair: None

Health and Image

Diet: Perrie doesn’t watch what she eats at all. It’s lucky that she finds time to eat at all.

Exercise: She walks to and from work, and is on her feel all day, but that’ all the exercise she gets

Fitness: That’s one of her least favorite words

Posture: She slouches a lot, but if she’s trying to impress someone, she’ll stand up straight

Dexterity: She isn’t very clumsy, unless she’s really tired

Reflexes: Her reflexes are better than average. She’s pretty good at dodging items thrown by hysterical patients

Abnormalities: None

Handicaps: None

Medication: None

Allergies: Cats

Diseases: None

Illnesses: None

Disorders: PTS from the fall of Wall Maria

Broken Bones: None

Wardrobe: She mostly wears cotton dresses and skirts, her nursing smocks, collared button ups

Accessories: None. She doesn’t wear any jewelry or anything because she loses it or it gets in the way

Equipment: N/A

Musical Instruments: None. She has no musical ability whatsoever

Piercings: None

Hygiene: She’s not a neat/clean freak, but she keeps herself and her hands very clean

Makeup: Nope. Perrie doesn’t have the time or skill to put on makeup

Perfume / Cologne: She keeps a bottle of her mother’s perfume that smells like roses, but she only wears it on special occasions

Scent: She washes in strawberry scented soap and shampoo. She really, really loves strawberries, ya’ll.

Scars: She has a thin, diagonal scar on her left thigh

Tattoos: None

Voice

Voice: She has a sweet, soft voice. When she’s mad or super serious about something, it’s more loud and firm

Pitch: On the higher side, but not obnoxious and squeaky

Laughter: She has a rather loud laugh, and she snorts sometimes

Impediments: None

Psychology

IQ: 148

Vocabulary: Perrie has a very extensive vocabulary, especially medical terms and such. She isn’t pretentious about it, however.

Memory: When she’s learning something, or needing to remember something important, she has an excellent memory. If it’s just everyday things, or when she’s really tired, she can’t remember anything

Temperament: Choleric

Learning Style: She starts by reading and studying something, then moves on to hands on learning

Emotional Stability: She is very emotionally stable. She can, however, become overwhelmed and freak out, but not very often

Mental Health: She’s healthy. She has slight PTS and can freak out in certain situations, but it isn’t debilitating.

Philosophy

Religion: None. She believes firmly in science and thinks religion is ridiculous, but she doesn’t slam it in people’s faces. She never talks about religion with others.

Superstitions: None

Spirit Animal: If she had to pick an animal, it would probably be an owl

Etiquette: Perrie is very polite and kind in social or professional situations, but she can be very vulgar in casual situations, or if she’s bothered

Alignment: Lawful good

Perception: Realist

Philosophy / Motto: “She believed she could, so she did.”

Taboos: Murder. No matter what, Perrie could never bring herself to take another’s life. It is against everything she stands for as a nurse

Vices: Cursing, spite

Virtues: Kindness, open-minded, hard-working

Character

Primary Objective: Become a doctor

Secondary Objectives: Enjoy life with her family and friends

Priorities: Her job and her loved ones

Motivation: Being the best she can be

Self Confidence: Very high

Self Control: High most of the time, but sometimes her temper can get the best of her

Self Esteem: High, though she can be self-conscious about some things

Quirks: Chewing her lip, snorts when laughing, dry hands, always has stained clothes, her hair is always a mess.

Hobbies: Cooking, gardening, reading, sewing

Closet Hobbies: Drawing. She isn’t very good, but she likes to doodle and sketch. She would die if anyone knew

Guilty Pleasures:

Habits: Lip chewing, cursing, hand washing

Desires: Success in her job, safe family and friends

Wishes: Defeat of the Titans, to become a doctor

Traumas: Titan’s invading Wall Maria, being betrayed by close friends...

Worries: Her friends/family being hurt, failing at her job, Titans

Nervous Tics: Lip chewing

Soothers: Quiet places, her garden, cooking, sewing

Soft Spots: Kids, puppies, pretty flowers

Cruel Streaks: Perrie isn’t cruel at all, but she can be a little spiteful. She would never intentionally hurt anyone, though

Accomplishments: Finishing nursing school and becoming a nurse, saving many people, learning how to cook new things

Greatest Achievement: She will always say her greatest achievement is making her dad proud. She’s such a daddy’s girl.

Failures: Not being able to help people when the wall fell, losing patients, she feels like she fails Eren everytime he gets kidnapped. She also felt like a failure when Ty joined the Survey Corps despite her trying to convince him not to, not remembering her mother

Biggest Failure: She feels that Carla Yeager’s death was her fault. She feels that she should have gone and seen if she was okay before fleeing Shiganshina.

Favorite Dream: She dreamt that she had a giant garden beyond the Walls, and there were no Titans. She could hear her father whistling somewhere near by, and she could smell strawberries and tea leaves..

Worst Nightmare: Perrie had a nightmare that her father and Ty were Titans, and she watched them eat Mikasa and her mother. She woke up and felt like crying after it

Earliest Memory: She remembers a woman singing and a vase of roses on the kitchen table

Fondest Memory: There’s so many, but her favorite is her father teaching her how to plant a rose bush

Worst Memory: The day Shiganshina fell

Most Prized Possession: Her mother’s perfume

Most Valuable Possession: A rare cookbook Ty got her for her 19th birthday

Collections: Cookbooks

Embarrassments: She’s embarrassed anytime a guy flirts with her. She gets so flustered

Humor: Sarcastic and silly

Regrets:

Secrets: The fact that she draws, her secret savings stash,

Darkest Secret: She doesn’t really have one

Pet Peeves: Weeds in the garden, when people can’t cook

Phobias: Germs

Greatest Fear: Losing her family/friends

Confidence: 8/10

Creativity: 8/10

Generosity: 10/10

Honesty: 9/10

Loyalty: 10/10

Insecurities: 4/10

Patience: 7/10

Predictability: 6/10

Reliability: 10/10

Responsibility: 10/10

Trustworthiness: 10/10

Common...

Compliments: “Cutie” “Healthy as a horse!” (She’s a damn medical nerd)

Insults: “Asshole”

Expletives: All of them. Every one of them.

Farewells: “See ya later” “Be safe”

Greetings: “Hi” “Hello, I’m Nurse Styles” (at work)

Mood: Tired and friendly

Preferences

Likes: Flowers, books, working, new dresses

Dislikes: Losing things, arguments, not being right

Favorites: Strawberries, pastel colors, spring, naps

Least Favorites: Lettuce, cold weather, Military Police (Even Perrie thinks they’re assholes)

Home, Work, and Education

Sleep Patterns: Sporadic at best

Eating Habits: She eats whenever she remembers

Pets: None

Job Title: Nurse

Experience: 4 years

Work Ethic: She is diligent and hardworking

Transportation: She walks

Criminal Record: None

Dream Job: Doctor

Social

Mother: Moria Styles (deceased)

Father: Desmond Styles

Guardians: She’s of age, so none

Siblings: None

Children: None

Close Relatives: Ty Styles (cousin) Ansel Styles (Uncle) Lise Styles (Aunt)

Distant Relatives: None. She had a very small family. Her grandparents on her mother’s side only had one child, and her father’s parents had Desmond and Ansel. Both sets of grandparents were killed in the culling after the fall

Best Friend: Ty, Hanji, Eren

Close Friends: Mikasa, Armin, Petra, Levi, most of the Survey Corps

Confidantes: Hanji, Levi, Ty

Allies: The Survey Corps

Acquaintances: Her co-workers

Rivals: Hanji, but in a friendly way

Inspirations: Hanji, Levi, Erwin, the doctors she works with

Heroes: Ty, Desmond

Mentors: Grisha Yeager, Hanji

Romance

First Love: Levi

Love Interests: Levi

Marital Status: Single

Orientation: Straight

Flirtiness: She’s too awkward and shy, but she has her moments

Turn ons: Intelligence, dedication, loyalty

Turn offs: Cockiness, selfishness, “assholes” (as quoted by Perrie)

Fetishes: None

Virginity: Perrie hasn’t even been kissed. Poor kid.

Reactions

Angry: When she’s angry, she’ll have a stony expression and not speak unless spoken to. She will say spiteful things, but not very hurtful. She’ll roll her eyes and curse even more than usual.

Anxious: She’ll tear into her lip big time, sometimes she makes it bleed. She will pace a little and talk rapidly and nonstop

Conflicted: She’ll go back and forth between her choices, being very adamant that she’s made her choice, but then the next second she’s switched.

Criticized: She can take criticism very well most of the time, especially when it is from superiors. But if someone is just being overly critical and mean, she’ll bristle and call them out

Depressed: She’ll bury herself in her work, and when she’s home, she’ll hide in her garden or bedroom and avoid people

Embarrassed: She’ll avoid eye contact, blush violently, and stammer a lot

Excited: Perrie’s eyes light up and she’ll smile and jitter around

Frightened: She’ll freeze up for a moment, but then slide her mask on and fight through the fear

Happy: She’ll smile and hum and compliment everyone

Personality

MBTI Personality Type: INFJ-A

#perrie styles #snk fic #aot fic #oc x levi #oc x canon #snk oc #aot oc

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perksofbeingawaifu · 7 years

Text

“logic”

Vulcan Levi comes to Chief Medical Officer Dr. Hanji suffering from a mysterious ailment. What is it? Pon Farr? Mysterious alien spores? Or something a little more banal?

Star Trek AU, ereri, g rated, ~2200 words, tw: needles. maybe based on recent life experiences

When Levi stepped into the sickbay, Hanji’s first reaction was that the Vulcan had come to scold them for the missing core samples taken on the newly discovered planet Oasis.

“Dr. Hanji—“ Levi started.

“I only borrowed them! I promise I’ll have them back to Dr. Arlert within—“

“What?” Levi asked, brows pinching together.

“What?” Hanji’s eyes drifted toward the ceiling.

There was a pause and then Levi appeared to wave off that minor distraction.

“I wanted to know…while we were on Oasis…were there any…was anyone brought aboard the ship with any new ailments?”

It was a roundabout way of getting to the point, Hanji thought. The Vulcan was usually far more pointed (forgive the pun) with his questions.

“Well, there was an uptick in Orion’s Buckle but that’s to be expected, Oasis is very romantic, I heard many of the crew calling it a tropical paradise—“

“What’s that?”

“Orion’s Buckle? Oh…well you know. That’s not the scientific term, just what the crew calls it. It’s a play on words. Like Orion’s belt? It’s a good old fashioned sexually transmitted infection. Some people attribute it to the Orion syndicate’s more seedy locations, but in reality it’s been around for hundreds of years. I had at least five people in here with symptoms. I traced back the source to one young stud of a crew member who I have since disciplined for failing to get treatment. But he and his paramours should be recovered by now. Nothing out of the ordinary. There’s always an uptick in those sorts of illnesses whenever we have shore leave. Why?”

“What’s it look like?”

“Oh. Boils. Pustules. Warts. It’s quite disgusting, but very treatable.”

The tension in Levi’s shoulders relaxed a little.

“Why?” Hanji asked, now a little too interested. “Because let me tell you, that if someone I knew had contracted something on a new planet and had failed to follow proper quarantine procedures, the ramifications could be disastrous as this disease spread throughout the entire crew.”

“You’re the Chief Medical Officer, right? So there’s a doctor patient thing, right?”

“Yes, anything you tell me is completely confidential. I do have to put it in my logs, but—“

“What if you didn’t put them in the logs?”

“That would be a serious breach of Starfleet protocol Levi.” Hanji might be slightly flexible with other rules, but they were quite serious about documenting any and all crew ailments.

This appeared enough for Levi. He slowly slipped his hands out of his pockets and held them, palms up to Hanji.

The skin on Levi’s hands was dark green and cracked, bleeding slightly. It looked like rope burn, but if that were the case Hanji would have tended to it first and written a report. Hanji slipped on gloves and pulled Levi’s hands toward them. Levi winced.

“The skin is tender?” Hanji asked, prodding the skin a little with tweezers.

“Yes,” Levi said, eye twitching as Hanji continued to poke him.

“Any joint or muscle soreness? Gland soreness?”

“I’ve already checked. If it had been in the medical disease logs, I would have treated myself. As such, I don’t know what it is, so that’s why I’m here.”

Why is it, Vulcans thought valuing logic made them smarter than everyone else?

“Well let me take a few samples. I think it’s safe to say you’re on quarantine. Step inside the bubble.”

Levi sighed and stepped into the quarantine zone. Hanji put up the shields around them both and set to work. They took samples, they prodded the tender flesh, they ran their tricorder over his body, and all the while Levi watched Hanji’s movements like a hawk.

“Well I think I can take you off of quarantine,” Hanji said after several long minutes. “It looks like an allergic reaction. You must have come into contact with something on the planet. It’s possible others had the same reaction and dismissed it or it may only be something that’s Vulcans are allergic to. Either way, I have a solution!”

They smeared Levi’s hands with medicated cream. For the half hour that he sat there with his carefully rolled up sleeves, he looked like someone who had stuck both hands into a vat of mayonnaise. When Hanji wiped it off, the inflammation in his hands had all but faded away. The dark green patches had faded so much they were barely noticeable.

“Keep applying this until it’s gone away completely,” Hanji said, handing him a jar of the cream.

All in a day’s work.

<*>

Levi reappeared within a fortnight. “It’s worse,” he said.

Hanji hadn’t even turned around when Levi appeared.

“Really? I thought the cream would—AH!” Hanji quickly recovered by turning their shocked yelp into a cough.

The rash had spread across Levi’s face, concentrating mostly around his mouth. It looked like someone had socked him in the mouth with green putty. His face was slightly swollen and the eyes puffy and heavy with dark green crusting along his lash line.

“Oh Levi, you should have come to me sooner, you look awful!”

He did indeed look a miserable and pitiable figure. He hid it well, but pain can make even the most stoic of Vulcans crack.

“I only came here because I ran out of that cream.”

“Yes, but Levi, you are clearly having a more severe allergic reaction.”

“I’m fine,” Levi said, scratching at his neck. “Just give me more of that stuff.”

“No, we need to do a whole work up here. Find out what it is on this ship that you’re so allergic to. I’m gonna have to do a scratch test—“

“Scratch? As in…needles?” Levi took a step backward.

“No, just a tiny little scrape,” Hanji said.

Hanji had seen Levi take down a drunk Klingon with deadly precision, but he often paled and fled when faced with the biannual inoculations.

Levi hesitantly removed his shirt and Hanji could see there were more marks around his neck and chest. They resisted saying anything, but it almost looked like hickeys. Hanji completed the test and then input the data, scanning him with the tricorder once more.

“So it looks like we have our results. You’re allergic to dust—“

“Isn’t everyone?” Levi snapped.

Well that explained his fastidious nature and hatred of dust. Hanji had wondered if it was a Vulcan thing.

“And human dander.”

“Human…you mean I’m allergic to humans?” Levi asked incredulously.

“It’s not uncommon. That’s why the filters on the ship are so strong, to protect those with cross species allergies.”

“I understand the theory, Hanji,” Levi dismissed. Ugh, Vulcans. “It’s just I’ve never had an issue the entire time I’ve been aboard, why now?”

“Well, it could be that because you are so thorough in your cleanliness.”

That and he was averse to touch. Hanji had extended a handshake to him they first time they met and he had not taken it.

“Or maybe you’ve been working closely with a human? Have you had any physical contact with humans?”

Levi had an amazing poker face.

“Or it could be human saliva. Maybe you accidentally took a sip out of a glass someone else had—“

Levi clicked his tongue at the idea.

“When was your last Pon Farr?” Hanji asked, wondering if nearing the blood fever could have anything to do with his immune system acting up.

Levi’s nostrils flared.

“Well, I’m going to give you an antihistamine for now,” Hanji said, holding out a little cup with a pill in it to Levi. “And then I will develop a series of shots for you that will hopefully—Levi?”

He had taken the pill and run. Hanji sighed.

“Patient declined injections for allergy,” they said into their tricorder before tilting their head back for a quick power nap.

<*>

“I need another pill,” Levi said the next day.

The itching was worse and the skin looked crusty. Hanji wanted to scratch just looking at him.

“You need shots,” Hanji emphasized.

“I need another pill,” Levi repeated.

“Levi you need the shots or else you will build up an immunity to the pill. Any further contact with humans will only make it worse.”

“Then I will simply cut off all contact,” Levi said simply.

Vulcan logic.

<*>

“I thought you were cutting off all contact with humans?” Hanji said.

They had a very naked Levi on the table. The rash had spread to his genitals and for the first time ever Hanji was able to see what an embarrassed Vulcan looked like. Apparently, it looked a lot like a naked Vulcan with a rash on his ass.

“Humans are…persuasive,” Levi licked his cracked lips.

“You need to tell your human girlfriend that you need some time to heal since you refuse treatment.”

“Girl…friend.” Levi did not understand the words. “I will inform them that we may no longer see each other.”

“That’s not what I said!” Hanji called after him as he stalked out of the sickbay.

<*>

“Hey Doc!” Eren waved at Hanji. “Got a moment?”

“Eren! Good to see you! How are you doing? In good health, I hope?”

“Sortof. Look I feel kindof silly coming in, but I have had these allergies driving me absolutely crazy. Look at me, my eyes are constantly itchy, my nose is running, I’m sneezing all the time. I just want to be able to focus. I’ve washed and cleaned my quarters several times. I’ve tried different diets. I’ve had them change the filters in my room. At this point I’m out of options.”

“Okay well let’s do a scratch test for you.”

Hanji gained an odd sense of déjà vu while they performed the test.

“So I’ve got your results and it looks like you’re allergic to dust—“

“Isn’t everyone?” Eren grinned and Hanji chuckled.

“And…Vulcan dander.”

“Vulcan…do Vulcans have dander? Wait, what? I’m allergic to Vulcans? How is that even possible? My sister is half Vulcan!”

“It’s possible because of her half human side that you’ve never had an issue before,” Hanji speculated.

“Well, this explains it. So what do I do? I can’t just…ignore all Vulcans? That’s speciest and also…really difficult because..I’ve sortof been seeing one.”

He was handsome when he flushed like that. Hanji already knew that most people on the ship, no matter the species, found Eren to be quite attractive.

“Good news is all you need is a series of shots. You’ll need to work your way up to a set dose but after that you should only need one every six months.”

“Really? Oh that’s awesome. Thanks Hanji.”

“I can give you the first round today if you’d like.”

“That would be perfect,” Eren said rolling up his sleeves eagerly.

“You’re much better than my last allergy patient,” Hanji said with a grin. “I had a Vulcan sitting in that pod and he was terribly allergic to humans but refused shots for it. It’s sad but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Eren sat up.

“I’m sorry?” he said.

“Oh, it’s just that species allergies are more common than you might think! Can you imagine being allergic to humans on a ship that is eighty percent humans? And I am a doctor but I can’t just wave a magical wand and make him better. Nope, you need shots.”

Hanji turned around with the injection gun in one hand and tricorder in the other and found the pod empty. They sighed.

<*>

Eren reappeared a half hour later, dragging Levi behind him like a very surly balloon.

“Dr. Hanji is it possible for Vulcans to explode from having intercourse with other non-Vulcans during Pon Farr?”

“…What?” Hanji asked, completely lost.

“He led me to believe this is what Pon Farr looks like,” Eren said, pointing at a miserable Levi. “But you’re just allergic to humans, aren’t you? All you need is a shot.”

“I don’t want a shot,” Levi said, digging his heels in like a stubborn mule.

By the stars, they were allergic to one another. Hanji wanted to burst into laughter.

“Look, I’ll get the shots, you can watch me and you’ll see it’s no big deal and then you get them, okay?”

Levi glowered.

“Please?” Eren begged. “For me?”

Levi relented.

“Here, Eren, you get comfortable in the pod. And Levi—“

“I prefer to stand,” Levi said crossing his arms.

“Right well I’ll just get Eren’s shots ready then,” said Hanji. “Now, you may feel a small—GOTCHYA!!!”

Hanji used the opportunity when Levi’s guard was down to jab him in the neck with the injection gun. Levi let out a howl of surprise but surprisingly there was little damage to Hanji’s labs save for their goggles and one sickbay pod.

“Ow, four eyes, you really got me,” he complained later, rubbing his neck and eating a frozen treat.

This coming from the Vulcan that had walked around with a dislocated shoulder for two weeks and never noticed. Hanji had told him the popsicle had medicine in it that would help the inflammation go down but really they had just given him the sweet hoping a little positive reinforcement might go a long way.

“Eren isn’t complaining nearly as much as you,” Hanji pointed out as Eren ate his popsicle happily.

“I don’t mind. I’d get a million shots just to be with the one I love,” Eren said, crunching on his cherry treat.

Well, that was the second time in as many weeks Hanji was blessed with a blushing Vulcan.

#ereri #ereri fanfic #ereri snk #snk #unbeta'd #drabble #next time hanji tries lollipops and stickers #hanji pov

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grey-kisses · 7 years

Note

Hello, I'M IN A DESPERATE NEED OF A MIYUSAWA FIC, where mura gets sick and hides it in a game and failes, so miyuki feels a bit angry and guilty for not realising and plays the nurse for sawamura :) Thanks

In a weird form of irony, this is the request I finished first and also absolutely hated the most. Like, the idea of Eijun, who wants to make Chris proud and wants to be a worthy rival to Furuya, NOT confessing when he’s not in his best form is not a prompt I like, BUT I tried to work in the angle you seemed to want. I also did not bother looking up much about the medical information, not for a Drabble.—

Eijun felt fine when he had woken up that morning. His eyes were bright, his form looked in shape, his entire demeanor glowed as he set each practice pitch directly to Miyuki’s mitt. Bright smile and proud eyes, he looked at Miyuki from the distance had every right to feel good about being the starting pitcher in the practice match they had.

Miyuki teased him for his puppy-like excitement, and Eijun pouted, but he still seemed physically fine despite his boyfriend’s emotional torture. You can only tell someone he’s lucky to pitch so many times, but at least Eijun realized Miyuki was really proud of him and had full confidence in him. The fact that Miyuki brought them close together was a good indicator that he had full support from his beautiful catcher.

Then Eijun smelled the most wonderful scent when Miyuki brought him close for a side hug. A soft musk that had an almost sweet citrus aroma to it. Eijun could barely hold back, the smell of Miyuki driving him mad.

“Kazu, you smell so good. I’m happy you’ll be so far during the game, or I’d be so off if I had to smell that too close.”

Miyuki chuckled and ruffled Eijun’s hair. “We should get this scent all over you. Test your focus during a match with outside stimulus. Hm?” And Miyuki leaned in close over Eijun’s ear, whispering his words so sweetly, but Eijun could only think of that new cologne.

Eijun felt his entire body tingle, and the two took the extra warm-up time to warm up in their own unique way before the game. Hands all over, and bodies pressed against each other, they had a nice adrenaline boost to get them through the game.

Except the tingling from the make-out session never disappeared. Eijun’s body felt on fire, and his performance suffered. An itch in his arm at the second would throw of his pitch, and ache in his legs ruined his at-bats. Within only a bit more than two innings and three lost runs, Eijun got switched for Kawakami early on.

His throat felt dry and he felt so damn itchy. His eyes wanted to stay shut and he could barely be upset ruining the game’s momentum for Seido when he could barely even see the dugout. Only when he took off his jersey to put on the shoulder pack did the coach notice the giant rash spreading over Eijun. Red and full of awful tiny bumps, Eijun felt horrified at his own skin. Nothing seemed to be melting off, but the horrible feeling skewed his perception of how it looked.

And Eijun almost screamed, had tried to scream, but his throat dried and could only get a startled yell out.

“B-b-boss, what is this?” And the sheer panic in his eyes explained to the others he had no idea that he had the issue as much as they did.

Rei'a calming presence entered the scene, and assured Eijun he would be fine before excusing them both to see a doctor. The team seemed understanding about Eijun’s poor pitching when news from the dugout reached the fielders, but they could only regain so much momentum. Eijun complained and whined the entire time to Rei that he should have done better, and that he should have done better despite and physical ailments. Rei nearly lost her wits in the short car ride to the doctor, partially because she had to explain to Eijun very carefully that no player should have to ruin their body for a single game. Eijun calms down, barely, took as deep a breath as he could with his scratchy throat, and let himself figure out what was wrong before throwing another fit.—“Allergies?” Kuramochi asked with his face full of rice.

Eijun looked like he would grind his jaw in frustration. “CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?! Allergies! ALLERGIES? I cost us a match and a chance to prove my worth because of something in the air! NYNYNYNYNYN!” Eijun felt pumped with anger at himself and his stupid rash, scratching his head in frustration.

“You did well, all things considered,” Furuya added, soft but serious enough to make it that much more of an annoying comment. “It was only three runs in two innings.”

Eijun turned his eyes into cat-like slits. “I really hate you sometimes, you know,” Eijun mumbled, head still between his clenched hands.

“Hey, hey, don’t beat it too much. The coach doesn’t think that’s your usual, and doesn’t think it reflects you much. It’s like Furuya said, you only lost three runs for someone who could barely wear a mitt.” Miyuki grinned, but it was flat and his eyes showed that he had something further to say but didn’t.

“Mmmmmm! But I don’t even know what it was! Pollen, grass, sun, food, and everything else was the same!” Eijun crossed his arms and continued to pout.

“Hyaha! Sucks to be you! If the coach thinks it’ll happen again, you won’t ever play!” Kuramochi “teased” even though that fear had not crossed Eijun’s mind yet.

The dead weight of failure hung in Eijun’s face and stomach. “Never … play …”

Haruichi jabbed Kuramochi in the side, frowning at him before turning to Eijun. “If it’s never happened before then it may never happen again. You should keep an eye out for anything that could have set off your reaction from the things today.”

Eijun sighed and nodded. “I think I’ll take a shower early. I’m in no condition to practice.” Not that Eijun wanted to shower when the slight fragrance of Miyuki’s cologne lingered on his skin. Eijun cast one more longing look at Miyuki before heading out of the cafeteria.

Taking out his phone, Eijun noticed the few bumps on his hand that had calmed in their itchiness. [Hey I’m about to shower. Meet in ur room? i miss your smell]

Eijun threw his phone on the charger and grabbed a new set of clothes for after his shower. The phone stayed on his bed, and he felt no need to take it if he would just do the usual Miyuki meet-up. All he wanted was a nice, refreshing bath to ease his skin so he could apply the new skin treatment the doctor prescribed to him.

Eijun enjoyed the feeling of the water on his skin, but left earlier than usual to get a head start into going to Miyuki’s room. The door was unlocked, and he let himself in while the other inhabitants stayed out to practice. Eijun felt plenty of relief just laying on Miyuki’s bed and nuzzling into the sheets. A fault scent of Miyuki lingered on them, but nothing so nice as the new cologne he got.

Okumura came in first of the roommates, glaring the moment he entered the room and saw Eijun. “Shouldn’t you be resting and taking something to get yourself back to normal? Or as normal as you could be.”

Eijun stuck his tongue out. “Well, wolf-boy, I can’t say there’s anything quite as being in my boyfriend’s bed,” Eijun half-sang out, raising on calf into the air as he squeezed a pillow and buried his face into it partially. Eijun hid his grin under the pillow when Okumura looked repulsed enough to look away.

“I don’t know what you see in each other,” Okumura muttered, but his cheeks were a bit brighter than before. Before Eijun had a chance to ask where Miyuki went after dinner, Okumura already left, probably wanting to not be around when the lovebirds decided to make out again. Okumura almost looked cute when he felt flustered, but Eijun pushed that thought away immediately.

Thirty minutes had gone without anyone else coming in, and Eijun felt irritated, mostly physically. He packed his prescription in his bag, and right when he reached for it Miyuki walked into the room.

“Eijun? Why are you here. I said you shouldn’t come tonight,” and Miyuki’s face held more concern than annoyance. “Did you forget to take your phone again?”

Eijun averted his guilty face. “I wanted to see you. I need some support and cuddles since Boss is going to kick me out of first string now.”

Miyuki shook his head as he walked over to his bed. “You can’t walk in like that! I needed to spray my room down with cleaning supplies!”

“Why? It looks clean and organized enough.”

“Because I sprayed the cologne on in here. Are you too dense to figure out that was what your reaction was to?”

Eijun’s heart sank and he felt a horrible feeling of dismay and outrage. “That can’t be right! It smelled so good! I wanted it for myself!”

“It’s literally the only thing that was different about today. And regardless about your complaints, I already threw it away. You’ll be forgiven by the coach when I promise him I found the source of your reaction and won’t preform like that again.”

“But you gotta find something that nice that doesn’t hurt me, okay, Kazu?” Eijun whined, subconsciously scratching at the bumps on his arms.

Miyuki took note, and took the box from the Eijun was not using to scratch himself. “I’ll find something better, if it matters so much. Now let’s put this on you,” Miyuki said as he shook the box. The ointment looked like a standard toothpaste container, and Miyuki wondered if Eijun couldn’t just take pills for that sort of thing. Either way, he oozed out a bit of the content onto two fingers. “Take off your shirt. It’s on your back, too?”

Eijun blushed and obeyed. “H-how do you want me?”

Miyuki laughed, not too loudly, but it was obvious Eijun was reading into it too much. “Just hold out your arm. I’ll start there first. Then you can just lay on your stomach.”

Miyuki seemed to go slower than necessary. He applied more to his hands when needed, and seemed to be massaging Eijun’s arms as he applied. Every bit of effected skin received a fair bit of the medicine, and Eijun admitted he enjoyed it. From the soothing touch of medicine doing its job, the small muscle massage, and to the fact that he received so much attention from his handsome lover warmed and relaxed Eijun.

“Hey! Don’t go to sleep yet! I haven’t gotten your back yet.”

“Mmnn! If I’m about to sleep now how am I supposed to stay awake while you rub my back?!” Eijun still decided to roll on Miyuki’s bed until he laid down.

“Oh? Who says you’re getting the same treatment on your back?” By tone alone Eijun could tell the smile wide grin had spread over Miyuki’s face. Worse still, Miyuki seemed to be in a truly teasing mood as he ran a devious hand along the known ticklish spots along Eijun’s back.

“Gya ha -ahha!” Not that the noises made any sense, because Eijun wanted to yell and laugh at one. “Miyuki Kazuya!”

Miyuki exhaled in what sounded like disappointment, but Eijun could tell he was still planning something. “I’ll behave. Don’t want to waste your medicine, at least.”

Miyuki kept his words. Skilled but rough hands worked over Eijun’s skin with tender care, which hyper focus on the idea of making sure every bit of the effected spots took in the medicine to the pores. Eijun kept in his noises, but he enjoyed his little free massage and the idea that Miyuki cared enough to do it. Eijun did not actually blame Miyuki at all, not when they had no way of knowing about any allergic reaction, but Eijun would never refuse his horrible boyfriend actually being sweet for once.

“No sleeping!” Miyuki punctuated his words with a small pinch on Eijun’s arm.

“Wha- You’re supposed to take care of me!”

“Hee, did I say that involved sleeping on my bed? I finished applying it, so head to your own room already! You’ll feel better in your own space, and so will I. I can do more on you tomorrow.”

“Mmmmm,” Eijun replied with a groggy pout as he sat back up. “Promise?”

Miyuki placed a hand on Eijun’s cheek and pulled him in for a brief kiss. “Promise. I’ll take care of making sure you get batter and finding out what in the cologne gave you a reaction. Now go to bed.”

Eijun sneaked in another kiss on Miyuki’s lips and smiled. “You’re not the best nurse, but I’m happy you’re taking care of me, Kazu.”

#Sawamura Eijun #Miyuki Kazuya #MiyuSawa #Daiya no A #DnA #fic post #it's actually kinda long and can't be called a drabble

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negans-network · 7 years

Text

Pull My Hair part 7 - A Little Less Conversation and A Little More Action

Summary: For @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash and her 2nd Negan Writing Challenge, this is for the hair-pulling kink prompt introducing OFC Susan.

Word Count: 4530 (Sorry, this is a little shorter than usual)

Warnings: Foul language, Sexual References, Language, and Imagery. Outright smut (again, finally). Daddy stuff.

Author: @genevievedarcygranger

Author’s Note: Sorry I always over-do everything and I’m fully fleshing this out even though it’s a smut prompt.

The trip to the doctor felt so mundane that Susan almost believed that the Dead never came back and the world itself was still normal. Dr. Carson poked and prodded at her, checking her health, and Susan actually had to try and remember her medical history. Dutifully she recited the normal stuff. O negative blood type, which made Dr. Carson hopeful for blood donations, though he warned her not to expect the same courtesy from others. The only surgery she’s ever had was for her tonsils and wisdom teeth. She doesn’t have a history of being sick. The first bone she broke was in the apocalypse in her wrist. Susan explained how birth control implants gave her a horrible allergic reaction, and in addition to that she was allergic to nuts.

Luckily, though, she didn’t have an allergy to latex, so Dr. Carson gave Negan more condoms, avoiding eye-contact with the man as he did so. It was a little uncomfortable to have Negan there while Dr. Carson gave her an examination, but Negan didn’t make any crude comments like she expected him, too, and he didn’t get upset at anything Dr. Carson was doing. In fact, Susan felt more at ease that Negan, someone familiar that she trusted, was there with her.

The last thing Dr. Carson mentioned was that conception was still possible even if Negan did ‘pull the fuck out’ as he so eloquently put it. So, if her period was late, Susan should come back to do a pregnancy test. That was more than a little awkward and concerning, but despite the doctor’s warning, Negan only rolled his eyes and caught Susan by the wrist, tugging her out the door.

As they made their way back to Negan’s bedroom, he muttered to her under his breath, “Please, what are the fucking odds I knock you up after fucking you only once?” Apparently, Dr. Carson’s words were not a deterrent for Negan. He was still just as eager to get into Susan’s panties. She had to admire his tenacity to not let any of that kill his mood.

Once they stepped over the threshold to his bedroom, Negan slammed the door shut and locked it behind them. Then he set Lucille gently on the couch before shrugging off his black leather jacket and tossing it on the couch beside her. He tugged off his one black leather glove with his teeth while his other hand unbuckled his belt. The belt came off with a hiss through the beltloops, and both the belt and the glove were carelessly discarded alongside his jacket. Quickly, he unwrapped the bandage he kept around his wrist, a precaution to keep him from hurting himself while swinging Lucille around. The bandage was normally kept hidden under the long sleeves of his black leather jacket, so when he unrolled the bandage completely and chunked it at the trash, it went completely unnoticed by Susan. Slipping off his white shirt, Negan added that to the growing pile on the couch, too. His boots were toed off, and soon the rest of his clothes were also shed as well.

Meanwhile Susan also rushed to strip herself, both of them eager for each other. Her trusty, heavy backpack was tossed on the adjacent chair to the couch and she slipped out of her dress and lacy underwear, throwing them across her backpack, too. She was just slipping off her heels when Negan strode across the room and caught her in his grasp from behind. “Fucking gotcha, Susan.”

Immediately, he wrapped her hair in his hand, pulling it out of the way so he could place whiskery kisses down her neck. His facial hair tickled, making her giggle, but the sinfulness of his mouth caused her giggles to dissolve into moans. “Leave the fucking heels on,” he whispered in her ear between laving kisses on her pulse point. She did as he asked without question. His breath was hot and damp on the shell of her ear, and she broke out in shivers and soaked her panties accordingly.

“Take me now, Negan, please,” Susan begged, reaching back behind her head and fisting his own hair in her hands. Instinctively, she grinded her rear into his blossoming erection she could feel behind her. Before she wouldn’t have been able to do that, but now she was starting to see the advantage of having heels five inches high. Like a cliché, she was already weak in the knees, resorting to cautiously leaning her weight against him. Like him, she was fed up with all the delays and interruptions. She had to have him again, and she wanted to have him now, hard and fast.

Pleased with her wantonness, Negan hummed, and the vibrations reverberating through his chest thrummed pleasantly to her sternum from the chest to back contact. His chest hair and happy trail scratched against her bare skin from where they were pressed together, and still they both tried to get impossibly closer, this contact not enough for either of them. “Well, are you sure you’ve been a fucking good girl today, Susan?” Negan asked her and explained, “Only good girls get fucked in their pussy by Daddy’s fat fucking dick.”

As soon as she heard those magic words, Susan became even wetter than before, which she didn’t think was possible. She remembered how envious she was of Dwight when Negan called him a good boy, and now she wanted to be a good girl. Additionally, she was surprised by herself by not being turned off by the whole ‘daddy’ thing.

Still, despite her arousal, she was a little confused by Negan’s teasing. He was so impatient to fuck her just a few minutes ago, but now he was playing that game. Susan didn’t understand. Dwight said she had behaved, and he hadn’t been lying. Was Negan upset with her for something else? Why would he punish her when she hadn’t done anything? “Yes, Daddy, I’ve been good today,” she dutifully answered him. She wished she could see his face, but his face was buried where her neck met her shoulder as he marked her with hickies.

“I don’t know, baby girl,” Negan murmured into her skin. He nipped the sensitive flesh before soothing it with his tongue as he worked his way back up to her ear. There he whispered, “Seems to me like you were a little too fucking eager to fuck Dwighty boy back there.” His other hand, which had been rubbing circles around her navel, dipping lower with every revolution, suddenly came up and slipped around her neck, not tight at all, but just resting there.

The old Susan would have immediately been put on edge, aware of the rising danger levels. This new Susan – the Susan who was Negan’s wife and not a lone survivor – only felt her adrenaline levels rise out of excitement. She knew she was safe because she was loyal, far more loyal than the other wives like Amber and Sherry, though she wasn’t in love with Negan. Susan wasn’t going to lie and say she loved him either, she’d hardly think that that would help her case.

“No, no, Negan,” he applied pressure to her throat and Susan realized her mistake, “Daddy, Daddy.” The pressure lifted. “No, Daddy, I don’t care about him. I want to fuck you, only you.” Shamelessly, she was still pushing herself back into his erection, her thighs squeezed together tight as she sought to relieve the own pressure between her legs.

Unsurprisingly, Negan was grinding back against her. Though one hand was at her throat and the other hand held her in place by the firm grip he had on her hair, his mouth still sucked blooming purple bruises on her brown skin. She would have to use her hair to hide them if he would let her get away with that. That or she could avoid being seen by everyone if she just stayed in his bed for the rest of her life like she wanted, getting covered in more love-bites. It was a vicious cycle, but one she would gladly relive over and over again.

“You’re damn right that you only fuck me because no one,” he emphasized the word with a quick squeeze of her neck and a yank of her hair, “can ever fuck you as good as I do. No one has as fat as a fucking dick as me. No one knows how to get you as fucking wet and as fucking wild as I do just by tugging on your hair, baby girl.” He did so, and his point was proved as Susan let loose a moan even louder than the last ones, her hands desperately scrabbling for purchase on his slick hair.

“No one knows just how to pet your fucking pussy like the lady you are,” Negan lowly insinuated, voice rough and deep and yet soothing to her ear drums. Susan’s eyes widened as Negan dropped his hand from her throat, skating his palm down her front until he cupped her sex. When he touched her there, she spread her legs for him wider, and from behind he shoved a leg between her own, kicking them apart more for him. His skillful fingers spread her lower lips and found her wet. Those same fingers liberally spread her wetness as he rubbed her and reached lower to dip his fingers inside, finding the source of all her wetness. All the while, he rhythmically tugged on her hair, her hair follicles screaming at the slight pain but her mouth moaning at the intense pleasure garnered from it. Negan teased her clit with feather-light touches that had her shaking with need. Then he pulled his hand back up in front of both of their faces.

Spreading his fingers, they both watched as her arousal threaded between the digits, sticky and dewy like raindrops on a spider web. “Fuck yeah, I can pet your fucking pussy and get you as wet as the Pacific.” He brought the fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, humming appreciatively at the taste. “Fuck, I should say as wet as the Dead Sea with how salty you taste.” His hand returned to the apex of her thighs where he continued to pet her pussy. “Don’t worry, Susan. I know you’re sweet where it fucking counts,” he purred to her, placatingly, his sweet talk at odds with what he was doing between her legs.

Trembling from the good petting, Susan gasped, “Negan,” tilting her head so far back that she rested it against his shoulder. Unconsciously, she straddled his leg between her own, alternating between bucking into his hand and humping against his thigh when she would grind backwards against his erection that nestled between the globes of her cheeks. “Daddy,” she quickly corrected herself without any action from him. Susan practically whined, “Please stop teasing me, Daddy. Please, please, just fuck me already.” She didn’t used to dirty talk like this – or talk at all during sex – but Negan brought out the best in her, it seemed. “Just bend me the fuck over and take what you want from me. Fuck me like you own me. Prove that you own my pussy, Daddy. Please.”

Incited by her challenge, Negan removed his hand from her and placed it still wet and glistening from her juices on the small of her back. “Well, since you asked me so fucking nicely, baby girl.” Urging her forward, guiding her by the grip he had on her hair, he maneuvered her behind the couch where Lucille normally rested and where his clothes were piled up. He removed her hands from his hair, pinning both of her wrists behind her back before he bent her over at a perfect angle. She was practically hanging over the back of the couch and again he used his foot to kick her legs open wider. “Hell, you practically fucking begged me to do this, Susan,” he growled. “I’m gonna brutally pound your fucking pussy until you’re branded by my fat fucking dick.”

“Yes, Daddy, fuck me good,” Susan hissed, encouraging him further, not minded being manhandled at all. He wasn’t unnecessarily rough, and he didn’t shove her hard enough for her to stumble or be hurt. She trusted him. It surprised her, but she did trust him.

“That’s right, baby girl,” Negan chuckled at her. He looked down and admired the pretty sight she made like this, ass up and thighs glistening, spread wide enough so he could have a peep at the promise land of pussy covered in damp, dark pubic hair. Stepping up close behind her, he started to rut against her, wetting his dick between her pussy lips without actually penetrating her, still driving them both wild, prolonging the inevitable.

Her brown skin was soft, pliant to his touch, and her hair was silken in the palm of his hand as he pulled it tight. His only regret for this position was that he wouldn’t be able to see her face contort in pleasure as he fucked her hard, and he wouldn’t be able to play with her titties either. Negan had liked doing that last time. It was one of his favorite parts about sex to watch everything bounce and jiggle on a woman from the force of his movements. That came second only to feeling velvety pussy around his cock.

Deciding that this was enough foreplay for the both of them since he felt like he was about to blow his load everywhere and Susan’s moans had dwindled down to pitiful whimpers, Negan pulled back a bit. “Okay, Susan, be a good girl and grab a fucking condom for me from my jacket pocket before I fucking bust all over this fucking couch and your fucking back.”

Eager to please and be a good girl, Susan ripped her hands out of his grip and grabbed his jacket. She rummaged through his pockets before she found one of the precious condoms. Only then did her movements slow, becoming more careful as she gently ripped it open, avoiding ripping the condom itself. Removing it from the package, she blindly reached backwards to pass it back to him, her neck movement limited by the grip he maintained on her hair.

Accepting it gratefully with his free hand, Negan slipped it on over his dick with practiced ease. “Fucking thanks, Susan.” His free hand smacked her rear, and he watched it ripple with glee. Of course, Susan moaned in correspondence and her pussy pulsed, gushing in preparation. Her back arched as she presented herself to him more, eagerly awaiting him to finally fuck her like they both desperately wanted.

Chuckling at her movements, he dropped his free hand down and gripped her meaty hip, fingers digging into the ample flesh as he held her in place like her wanted. He adjusted the grip he had on her hair until he was grasping it by the roots, forcing her head down so that her ass would be lifted up higher for him. “Now for the fucking,” Negan said, and then plunged inside of her pussy to the hilt, the head of his cock slamming into her cervix almost painfully.

The position would have never worked without the heels adding the extra and much needed height. Negan slammed into her hard, unforgiving, everything Susan asked for and needed. His hands held her in place, keeping her from wriggled around too much in the throes of her pleasure. She kept trying to throw her head back as she practically screamed his name like a prayer to heaven, “Negan! Negan, Negan, Negan! Daddy, oh Daddy. Daddy, Daddy, yes, yes, Daddy! Negan! Daddy! Oh, God, Negan!” Susan wasn’t quite sure which name to use so she yelled them both in her passion. She kept trying to curve her spine, too, so he could hit it deeper where she wanted, but Negan kept a firm grip.

His fingers he had digging into her scalp massaged her bruised hair follicles while the fingers of his other hand pinched and pulled at her so much that he’d probably end up leaving bruises there, too. But she didn’t care when he filled her so completely, his cock feeling so good even if it was covered in latex. Some part of her did miss the silkiness his uncovered cock had before, but his movements were too good for her to be regretful for long.

At a loss for what to do with her hands since she couldn’t reach back and yank his hair like she wanted, Susan resorted to scrambling them around in his clothes. None of that was the texture that she desired, though, and it frustrated her to no end. She was also frustrated in a similar fashion to Negan. Susan wanted to watch his face, and instead she was teased but what he could look like judging by the harsh grunts, groans, and growls he made above and behind her as he kept steadily thrusting.

All she had to look at was Lucille. The baseball bat had been knocked over sometime when Susan had been looking for the condoms. Now the deadly bat was on her side, barbed-wire covering shiny and gleaming. Facing Lucille, Susan didn’t want to think about her namesake, guessing the real Lucille was probably a real knock-out much like the bat itself, though of course in a much different way. Susan didn’t want to think about how many brains and heads Negan has bashed in using Lucille either.

Luckily, Susan didn’t think about anything since Negan was fucking her so good and hard. In fact, Susan was barely registering that it was Lucille in front of her, which is why she reached out and grasped her handle tight in one fist, desperate for some kind of anchor to keep her grounded while Negan mercilessly pounded her pussy.

The reassuring weight of Lucille kept Susan from letting her go, the wood smooth in her grasp and warming up in her grip. Her other hand still searched for something to grab, though, and despite Negan’s best attempts to truly screw her brains out, Susan wasn’t stupid enough to grab Lucille’s barbed wire. Instead, Susan made do when she found Negan’s belt. Unthinkingly, she lifted it to her mouth and clamped her jaws around it hard, teeth sinking into the leather and imprinting on it. It muffled her moans to needy grunts, groans, and growls much like Negan was making.

Unable to see what Susan was doing, Negan had to judge how close she was by sound alone. Judging from those new sounds, Negan figured she was close and quickly changed his tactics. He shifted his hips, hitting her at a new angle now right on her g-spot, and he was immediately gratified by how her pussy was spasming around him wildly now. Negan was riding her hard, and she was bucking beneath him, nearly out of control if it weren’t for the hard grip he was keeping on her to keep her steady enough to fuck harder.

Like her, he was getting close, too, muttering curses under his breath that were steadily getting louder. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh fuck. Oh my God, God damn, honey! Damn it, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good. So fucking wet and so fucking soft and so fucking tight. So fucking hot. Fucking beautiful. Susan! God, I don’t ever wanna stop fucking you. I fuck you so good, don’t I? Say my damn name, baby girl! Fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh shit. Fucking! Fuckity fucking fuck! Fuckity fuck! Fuck!” Soon his cursing was louder than Susan’s sounds and the harsh, wet slap of skin against skin.

Suddenly, he slipped his hand down between her legs where he fiercely rubbed at her clit. “Fucking come for me all over my fat fucking dick, baby girl!” Negan yanked her hair hard, encouraging her further, pulling her head so far back that he lifted her off the couch, her back bowing.

On command, Susan came beautifully, her orgasming powerfully ripping through her, lighting every nerve ending on fire. She saw white, toes curling in her heels. During her climax, she keened his name around the belt in her mouth, “Negan!”

Through her peak, Negan kept fucking her, trying to ride it out. Now that she was contorted in such a way though, he could finally see what she was doing. The peek of his belt in her mouth and seeing how she held Lucille in a white-knuckled grip triggered his orgasm more than her own did. “Fuck, Susan!” Then he came. It was a good thing they were using a condom this time, because unlike last time he wouldn’t have been able to pull out in time to come on her back.

In the afterglow of their orgasms, Susan collapsed on the couch, her grip on everything going lax. She let go of Lucille, and Susan’s jaw dropped open, aching slightly from biting so hard. The belt fell out of her mouth, permanently marked by her teeth now, and just a little wet. Susan was in a similar condition. Her neck was covered in Negan’s bitemarks, mottled purple like a spotted cat. Instead of being just a little wet, she was soaked, and her climax was dripping sticky down her thighs nearly to her knees now. In addition to being so slick with arousal, she was a hot, sweaty mess. Negan’s couch would need cleaning after this, no doubt.

Behind her, Negan had fallen forward, gently resting his weight on her and pinning her to the couch. Like her, he had let go of everything, his arms falling down by his sides, useless. He pressed his forehead against her spine, breathing heavily and his breaths puffing more moisture on her back. It was hard for them both to still be standing, but they managed it by throwing most of their weight on the couch. His dick was rapidly softening inside of her, the condom he filled with his come growing uncomfortable to wear just as fast. “Good girl,” he managed to gasp to Susan appreciatively, and he reached one hand up and petted her hair before it fell down to his side again.

Deeply satisfied by the orgasm and rewarded by the compliment, Susan hummed happily. She turned her head to one side, seeing his immaculately made bed. Once again, they hadn’t even made it to his bed before they started fucking each other. Maybe he had a rule about lovemaking in his bed. Oh well. There was always next time, and there will be a next time.

“Damn,” Negan began, breaking into Susan’s musings. “You’re a dirty girl to grab my other dirty girl like that.”

“Hm?” Susan was confused by his words, her brains partially fucked out by Negan after an orgasm like that. “What are you talking about, Negan?”

“I saw you had grabbed ahold of Lucille,” Negan explained to Susan. “How did you know Lucille likes to watch and participate?” he asked, partially teasing her.

“Oh,” Susan simply said, understanding dawning on her. “I didn’t. I’m sorry if that upset you. I just needed something to grab, and I couldn’t reach you.”

“Fuck, Susan, I told you that you got to quit apologizing. You got nothing to be sorry for at fucking all,” Negan softly rebuked her. It was an unusual experience for him to meet a woman who constantly apologized even when she didn’t do anything wrong. Normally, he was used to fighting to get an apology as he always seemed to be the one to blame. It was somewhat nice to have someone so willing to say sorry, definitely a foreign experience for him. Still, it was sort of getting annoying as the novelty of it wore off. He was going to have to teach Susan some self-respect and self-confidence, since she didn’t seem to have much of either unless he was balls deep in her. Despite his wishes, he couldn’t always have his dick buried in her. Negan knew she was strong-willed, but she wasn’t stubborn like the others. Susan just lacked the belief that she was beautiful. She knew she was a capable, strong, and skilled individual otherwise.

Shaking his head, Negan continued, “Don’t think I didn’t see you chomping down on my belt either. And before you dare apologize, it’s fucking fine. It’s just a damn belt. I can always get a-fucking-nother one if you damaged it that fucking badly, but I sincerely doubt it.”

Susan squirmed, fighting the urge to apologize to him.

There was a lapse of silence. And then, “If I knew you were that fucking interested in using the damn belt, I coulda used it on you in a much more fucking pleasurable way, baby girl. You’re so dirty and kinky and I fucking love it.” Negan was outright teasing her now, and despite his dick being soft inside her, he meaningfully shifted his hips against her.

They were both too tired and overstimulated for that to spur a second round so soon, so instead Susan just sighed, “Negan.” At that, Negan carefully pulled out, slipping out of her and reaching down to grab his dick so the condom wouldn’t fall off and spill all over the floor and on their feet where they stood. Still, Susan couldn’t deny that while she wasn’t up for a repeat right now, she wouldn’t be opposed to fucking again after a small break.

“Fuck,” Negan spoke up again, “We have to fucking fuck again sometime today soon.”

Her hopes confirmed, Susan didn’t even bother to hide her smile. “Shower first?” She felt yucky, and soon her muscles would be sore and protesting after fucking in that position for so long.

“Fuck, yes, that sounds nice,” Negan amicably agreed, also feeling a little too sweaty and smelly, too. He had hopes for other things in the shower as well besides just cleaning up. They could both stand to get a little dirtier before they were both squeaky clean and fresh again.

“Then dinner after?” Susan asked, knowing after a good fucking like this that she was going to be starving soon enough.

“Fuck, okay, but only if we have shower sex, too,” Negan hedged, only halfway teasing, laying all his cards on the table.

Luckily – and unsurprisingly of course – Susan didn’t need much convincing. “Deal, Negan.”

Negan laughed, his smile so wide it hurt, though Susan couldn’t see it. “I knew you’d see things my fucking way, Susan, baby girl.”

Underneath him, Susan didn’t deign to comment, but she shivered appreciatively at the pet name. And Negan’s smile only grew bigger. Oh, yes, there was definitely going to be a next time. And a time after that, and a time after that, and after that, and after that. Susan was officially Negan’s new favorite wife, and he didn’t intend to get another wife to add to the collection any time soon or fuck any other wife than Susan for a good while yet.

Little did Negan know that soon enough Susan would leave him.

#negan #negan's thirst squad #ash's negan writing challenge #NTS #NTS fics #negan fanfics #fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #submission

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sfgooglebooks · 6 years

Text

Cover Story by Rachel Bailey

"What sad person would want to smash an innocent gnome?"

That's right, Simon said she was the one to coin the word 'gnomicide.' "What about the neighbors? Maybe it was the result of a dispute?"

Her jaw dropped. "Good lord, no. No one around here would stoop to that level."

I rested the end of my pencil on my bottom lip as I thought. "Funny, that's what Simon said."

"You think we're wrong?" A bejeweled hand fluttered up to cover her gaping mouth.

Frankly, I couldn't blame her for the reaction - who'd want to live next door to a vandal? Especially one who picked such appallingly trivial targets. "One thing I've learned in this job is there's always more to every story. Maybe someone has a resentment they've been repressing or a... or ah... ahh..."

Dammit, I was going to sneeze. There's nothing I hate more than sneezing. So I don't. I do this funny little "fink" sound and stop it. At least I'm told it's a funny little sound - I'm not usually paying attention at the time. I'm also told I can burst a blood vessel in my brain by doing it, but hey - I like to live on the edge.

I made my "fink" sound.

"Bless you!" Dot raced to get me a tissue then hovered, looking like she wanted to tuck me into bed with chicken soup. "You poor thing, that was the strangest sounding sneeze I've ever heard."

"I'm fine. Allergies." I blew my nose and tried to recapture my professional air. "Did anyone on the street see anything?"

"I haven't had the chance to ask them all, but Valentina next door, said she and the Sinclairs, on the other side, didn't see anything." She paused and checked in the direction of the hall. "I asked Gerald, Anna's grandfather, but," she gave an apologetic shrug, "he's... not quite all there... so he's not much help."

I turned as I heard a noise behind me.

"Sorry to keep you, Ms. Fletcher, but I thought it'd be better for me to put Anna to bed and let you speak to my mother first."

As Simon pulled out the chair beside me, I noticed he looked tired and I felt that tug at my heart again. "You can call me Tobi."

He smiled and suddenly didn't look so tired anymore. "Are you getting anywhere, Tobi?"

There you go. Tugging at heartstrings leads to familiarity, which leads to flirty smiles. Not a constructive progression of events. I cleared my throat and tried to put on the professional face again. "Not much to go on at the moment, but I'd like to speak to the neighbors, if possible." 'Like' was probably an exaggeration, but I was going to write this story if it killed me.

Dot reached out to pat my arm, smiling with what was probably maternal pride. Not that I had much experience of being the subject of maternal pride myself, but I'd seen it before in other people's mothers. "I knew when Simon told me about you that you were the one." She threw Simon a satisfied smile then looked back at me. "If you come back tomorrow, Anna and I'll take you around some of the neighbors. We'll miss a few who work, but it'll be a start for you."

"Thanks, Dot, I appreciate it. Nine o'clock suit you?" She nodded as I put the pencil back in my bag and moved to get up. I could feel another sneeze coming on and I didn't want to do it again in front of Dot - she might not be able to resist the chicken soup thing this time.

"I'll be leaving then." I tried to rush, but couldn't stop the "fink" sneeze.

Simon cocked an eyebrow in amusement but I didn't give him a chance to say anything. I lifted my chin and strode out the door, oblivious to any grinning that may or may not have occurred.

"You know," he slowed his steps to look at me, "you don't have to solve the crime. It could have been anyone this side of the city. The chances of you finding them are pretty slim."

He was right, of course, but if I could just get an outcome - a result - from this absurd assignment, I might be able to salvage some pride. "I hate loose ends."

"The loose ends don't matter. We just wanted people to be vigilant and to consider the effect of vandalism on someone like Anna." Love for his little girl shone from his eyes - something I found oddly attractive. What was that about?

I blew out a breath. "Yeah, but it'd be nice to solve it, too. I... I..." I could feel a sneeze coming but managed to hold it off. I'd forgotten to take more antihistamines with dinner.

"You were saying?" We'd stopped at my car in his driveway.

"I'm sorry, I forgot." I was much more concerned with avoiding a sneeze before I could make a getaway. I could feel the pressure building behind my nose and my face starting to contort. Oh, no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. There was no stopping it; it was like a loaded freight train.

"Ah... fink."

When I opened my eyes, Simon was regarding me like some creature at the zoo. "You know you could hurt yourself doing that - maybe burst a blood vessel or something."

I rolled my eyes. "So I've been told."

He rocked on his heels, hands in his jeans pockets. "Then why do you do it?"

"Thank you for your consideration, but I'm more than capable of handling my own sneezing affairs." I tried for my steely gaze to put him off.

"You're welcome," he said, unfazed. "Why don't you just let yourself sneeze properly?"

Why was everyone so hung up on my sneezes? Surely they had other things to occupy their minds? Although, I supposed, all evidence was to the contrary.

I folded my arms. "For your information, it's not that simple. I've tried, but it's a habit now and I couldn't have a proper sneeze even if I wanted one."

His eyes danced and the corners of his mouth were turned down, repressing a smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you're uptight?"

"They have, actually, but I'll add you to the list." I turned to get in the car.

"You should let go a little." His voice dropped a note. "Relax and have some fun."

Oh, that was rich. I turned back to him. "And you're basing this advice on knowing me in a purely professional capacity for less than thirty-six hours?"

He shrugged. "You journalists haven't got a patent on observation."

Of all the conceited, cocky men... "And you think... ah... ahh... you think... ahhh... fink." Dammit. "Look, I have to go. Can you say goodnight to your mother for me?"

He grinned, damn him. "Sure. 'Night, Tobi."

I scrambled into my car and made a quick getaway. What did he know about me? I stopped at the liquor store and bought some cheap red wine - I'd show him I could relax!

"So you're not excited about the new puppies?"

Her eyes widened in shock. "Surely you can't be serious? They'll be mongrels."

Even though I wasn't a dog person, I thought that was a little harsh. I finished my green tea and set down my cup. "Thanks for the chat and the tea, I've got to get back to the office and... ah... ahh," dammit, "ahhh... fink." My antihistamines must have worn off.

Ethel was all concern. "That sounds terrible, dear, have you had it seen to?"

Not again. "No, it was just a sneeze."

She brandished a shortbread cookie at me. "That, my dear, was not a sneeze. You should see a doctor about it."

I stood, madly searching through my bag for the antihistamine packet, but couldn't find it. I'd have to stop at my apartment or a drug store on the way to the office. I made my farewells and hastily retreated to the sidewalk, still searching my bag in the vain hope that I had a spare tablet hanging around from an old packet. I was so engrossed in my task, I failed to notice which house I was passing. It all happened so fast. From the shrubs on the right, a black shape flashed toward me. Needle-tipped claws dug into my ankles, then the shape streaked off again toward number five.

I stifled a scream that was part surprise, part pain. That damn Attackcat had broken skin. I bent down and saw that he'd left five scratches, three parallel lines on one side of my ankle and two on the other. He'd also managed to ladder my stockings but, thankfully, he'd missed my trousers. Those claws would have ripped the cotton.

"Damn you, Winston, I'll... ah... ahh... fink."

Shaking my head, I rushed over to my car. I managed to get in, but before I could make a getaway, my cell rang. I glanced at the ID, groaned, then answered.

"Hi, Mom."

"Tobi, dahlin', I saw your little piece on the garden gnomes the other day. Very cute."

I gritted my teeth and made my voice even. "It wasn't cute, it was a waste of newspaper space and a waste of my time." Too late, I realized my mistake.

"Well, sugah, if you felt that way, why didn't you give me a call? What's the use of having a mother on the board of the publishing company if she can't pull a few strings every now and then? I'll just call Kevin - that's your editor, isn't it? - and tell him to make better use of my baby's talents. What would you like to write a little story about? I'm organizing a spectacular fashion show next month to raise money for sick children or something, I’ll tell him to have you cover that instead."

"Mother." Was there any use telling her that a journalist would have written countless articles by then? No, probably no. "Mother," I began more softly. "Please don't call Kevin, everything at work is fine."

"If you're sure..."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I am. I... ah... ahh," dammit, "ahhh... fink."

"Tobi, dahlin', take an antihistamine, will you? You don't want people seeing your sneezes - you know how unattractive they look."

"I will," I said through a clenched jaw. "Mom, I have to go, I'll call you later."

"Oh, if you must. Ta-ta."

I disconnected and beat the cell against my forehead several times.

"That's probably not good for the phone, let alone your head."

I whipped my head around to the source of the now familiar voice. Too wrapped up in the drama with my mother, I hadn't noticed Simon's car pull up on the street behind mine.

"The welfare of my phone is the lowest of my priorities at the moment." But I dropped it back into my bag anyway.

"Want to tell me about it?" He leaned an elbow against the roof of the car and ducked his head a little to peer down at me.

"Not really... ah... ahh..." Oh, no, not in front of Simon again, please. "Ahhh... fink."

I opened my eyes and chanced a look up at him. He was clearly amused.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"I'm not laughing at you." But the grin didn't recede. "Why can't you let go enough to sneeze properly?"

"I don't want to." I put the key in the ignition.

"You know, they feel great. You should let yourself have one. They're one pure second of letting loose." His voice became almost imperceptibly huskier. "Don't you think you'd like that?"

I narrowed eyes that were already starting to puff up from my allergies. "Are you flirting with me?"

"I wouldn't dare to." His voice had changed back to the amused tone, which was just as annoying. "Why do you hate sneezing?"

"If you'd grown up with a pollen allergy, you'd hate springs full of sneezing, too."

"If you say so." He was smiling and the warmth in his eyes told me he was teasing, but I resented being challenged by a virtual stranger on my personality flaws, just the same.

#allergies #build up #female #fit #hold back #mess free #stifle

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pftones3482 · 7 years

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Little Magic: Chapter 19

Read it on Fictionpress.

Prologue Previous Chapter

This one seriously goes to @qveencinder because I had no inspiration for this for such a long time and today they kind of brought it back full force. I’m hoping I can keep going with this, but for now, here’s a longer than usual chapter. Also thanks to @artsyfalafel and @gare-tosetti for kicking my ass every now and then and reminding me that I am a writer.

"That everything?" Owen asked, standing up straight and stretching his back to rid it of the kinks.

Jaz glanced over the boxes of clothing, food, and water, which Marcus was currently dividing into categories based on size and potential nut, dairy, or gluten allergies. "Should be. Anything outside yet?"

Owen glanced out one of the holes in the wall and caught Nathan's eye, the younger boy giving a shake of his head. "Doesn't look like it. Don't worry; we have no idea when they were planning to actually escape. I'm sure everything is fine."

Jaz chewed her lower lip into oblivion, fiddling with the orange scrunchie around her wrist. "Maybe. I'm just…something doesn't feel right. It's nearly three in the afternoon."

Owen looked down at his watch despite knowing Jaz was right, swallowing nervously. "Hey, maybe they're waiting for the cover of nightfall?" he tried halfheartedly.

Marcus stood up from the floor, dusting his jeans off and stepping away from his handiwork, glancing between the two siblings with a frown. "Guys. You need to trust Liz and this Click kid. I'm sure they know what they're doing. I know Liz knows what she's doing."

"Guys!"

Nathan's shout had them all spinning on their heels and racing out the front door, watching in surprise as Nathan flagged down three separate black vehicles, directing them to the overgrown grass behind the dilapidated house. They followed him without hesitation, kicking up dust as they pulled open car doors and helped out over a dozen little kids, the oldest no more than seven, three kids who looked like they were in their tweens, and the six teenagers who had been up front, driving the cars away and keeping watch.

"This…this isn't it," Jaz managed in dismay, looking around the front of the house in the hopes of seeing someone else. "Where are Parker and Liz?"

One of the older teenagers stepped forward, black hair pulled into a tight ponytail and silver eyes glossing over Jaz carefully, standing nearly a foot taller than her. He wore what looked suspiciously like a guard uniform, if the baton on his hip was any indication. "There were some…problems. Some of the older kids got recaptured, and we couldn't all leave at once. We decided it would be best to get the youngest kids out first, as well as the older kids who have powers that can actually help…and who didn't get recaotured."

Jaz sneered at him, crossing her arms over her chest in protest. "Oh yeah?" she spat. "And who are you to say that you're so important?"

He raised an eyebrow, staying remarkably calm, and reached out, settling a hand over a scratch she had gotten while exploring the house. When he pulled it off a moment later, it had vanished, leaving smooth brown skin in its place. He gave her an impish smirk, though his eyes were pained. "Resident doctor, Davie," he managed. "Now can we please get these kids inside?"

Jaz flushed in embarrassment and nodded, leading everyone inside and leaving Nathan outside to continue watching for more people, one of the teenagers standing alongside him as a familiar face.

"When is everyone else coming?" Marcus asked Davie as they watched two of the tweens start handing out clean t-shirts to the kids who weren't in uniforms.

Davie shook his head, accepting a water bottle from Owen with a word of thanks. "I don't know," he admitted. "They're sending the kids out first, per Liz's request, and they're doing it a few cars at a time so that if some of us did get recaptured, it wouldn't be all of us. There should be more coming within the next half hour. They just sent me first because of my Little Magic."

"Understandable," Marcus nodded.

"What about Liz?" Jaz couldn't help but ask.

Davie grimaced and sipped at his water with a frown. "Last I saw, she got taken away by some guard. But knowing her, she probably got away and will insist that everyone leave before her."

Rock and dirt crackled outside as two more cars pulled up, and everyone inside moved to the doors and windows and holes, watching as they drove around back. Before one of them had even stopped, it's back door was flung open and Parker was sprinting across the grass straight for her siblings.

Jaz felt her chest tighten and she knelt on the floor, letting Parker catapult herself into her arms and vaguely acknowledging that Owen had curled his arms around them from the other side. She stroked Parker's back soothingly, struggling not to lose it completely, and pressed a kiss to her sister's scalp. "I'm glad you're okay, babe," she choked out, her voice breaking.

Parker nodded and tightened her grip on her sister, and Owen shifted so that he was kneeling alongside them, arm still slung protectively over Parker's shoulders as he looked up at Davie. The teen was watching the trio with a fond, if not wistful, smile, and Owen figured he probably had his own siblings that he was missing. "Thanks," he managed.

Davie gave him a mock salute with two of his fingers and turned to go inside, checking up on the kids who had just arrived. Owen looked over top of his sister's heads and locked eyes with Nathan, wincing when he saw the look on his face. He almost looked lost, and Owen untangled himself from Jaz and Parker to stand and move over to him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder and tilting his head. "You okay?"

Nathan studied Parker and Jaz for another moment before turning his gaze back to Owen. "I will be. I just…"

He took a shaky breath and glanced out over the woods, shoulders slumping and hands digging deeper into his pockets.

"I just want my sister back."

I hit the wall hard as I was flung backwards by a guard who had apparently made it their mission in life to see that I was too out of breath to speak, and promptly had to duck as he slammed the butt of his baton into the cement. I had stopped all of the remaining guard's guns upon coming into the room, but since they had started fighting, I hadn't had even a second to breathe, let alone formulate another lie.

Click had made quick work of three tweens cells when we had first come in, and they were fighting alongside me now. I didn't know them, but I had figured out their magics quickly. One of them was able to basically slow time. I figured that wasn't actually what was happening, but any guard that got within a three foot radius of him would slow significantly, giving him time to take their weapons and chuck them before ducking out of the way. It kept them scrambling for weapons at all times and left them confused, which helped a lot.

The second could tie any kind of knot, which had left four or five guards who were affected by the first guy tied up on the floor with various pieces of fabric the girl kept ripping from people. They struggled hard, but none of them could break her ties.

The third was a girl who, from what I could tell, wasn't using her Little Magic in any way, because I thought hers had something to do with lights. But she was a good fighter, kept her guard up, and when she caught me looking she grinned, ducked a punch, and shouted, "Eight years of karate!"

As we fought, Click released more and more of the tweens, sending the ones with less helpful fighting Little Magic's from the room and letting the others join us. As we slowly overwhelmed and tied up the remaining guards, I sent away more of them, directing them to the garage in a low voice and telling them to get out.

I was standing by the door as this all went down, Click on the farthest end of the hallway releasing the last of the kids from his cell. "That's it!" he shouted towards me, slamming the door shut and giving the guy a quick once over. "We gotta go get the other teenagers!"

I glanced around at the useless guards on the floor, knowing we'd have them wrapped up (literally) within minutes. "Go get them! We'll join you in a few!"

Though he looked ready to protest, I shot him a glare and he nodded. "Don't do anything stupid," he warned me, raising his voice a little. "I'm not losing you." With that, he spun on heel and vanished through the far door into the hallway I assumed the tweens were being kept.

I looked at the remaining three tweens that were helping tie up the guards and nodded to the door. "Get out of here," I told them. "I'm going to go help Click with the teens."

They nodded and listened, surprisingly, vanishing in the direction of the mess hall without saying anything in front of the bound and gagged guards, for which I was grateful. I turned away from the guards, already planning how best to get everyone to the mess hall without getting recaptured, and came face to face with a bullet-proof vest covered chest.

I barely had time to curse before world swam into nothingness around me.

When I woke up again, I found that my wrists had been cuffed to the wall behind me. I was sitting cross legged and slumped against the brick, and my head hurt like no tomorrow. I studied the room as I tugged halfheartedly at the cuffs, knowing that I wasn't getting out of my restraints any time soon.

It was another cell, but the hallway looked like it hadn't been being used for any of the kids that had been kidnapped. The lights all flickered along the ceiling and the smell in the room was musty and damp. I wrinkled my nose and flickered my eyes along the adjoining cells to mine. No one was there, but the sound of the door opening at the end of the hall drew my attention away.

Three guards strolled forwards surrounding a man who wore nothing to cover his face except a dark pair of sunglasses. Headphones dangled around his neck and he looked fairly young; his head was shaved and there was a faint amount of stubble on his jaw.

"This her?" he asked, his voice low.

The guards all nodded and the man smiled thinly before leaning back against the cage door. "Go on then."

I was confused, at least until one of the guards pressed a gun up to my forehead and another stood off to the side with another pointed at my chest. The third guard knelt in front of me and smiled, if the crinkling around their eyes were any indication.

"We have a couple of questions for you about the escapees," said the guard thoughtfully, her voice giving her away as assumedly female. "And you're going to answer them."

I nearly snorted, wondering if these people knew exactly what my powers were. "Why would I tell you anything?" I demanded, already knowing the answer.

Sure enough, she gestured to the other two guards. "I think that one is pretty easy to figure out, sweetie. Now, where are the kids that escaped?"

I shrugged. "Don't know."

The woman hesitated, and then glanced back at the man leaning against the wall, who shook his head once. She turned back to me and with sudden force backhanded me across the mouth.

My skin stung and I forced myself to blink back the tears that had sprung up. What the hell had just happened?

"I'll ask again," she said in a low voice. "Where are the escapees?"

I swallowed and shook my head. "I…don't know where all of them are," I said truthfully. I had no idea if anyone had gotten re-re-captured, if any of the kids had left, if any were still in the garage. I didn't even know if Click had managed to free all of the remaining tweens before I had been captured.

She glanced back again at the man in the shades and he nodded. The woman turned back to me and tilted her head. "Where are the ones that you know about?"

My mouth went dry as I looked between her and the man with the glasses, reworking what had just happened in my head. I had lied, he had shaken his head, she had known I was lying. I had told the truth, he had nodded…

Shit.

"You can tell when someone's lying, can't you?" I guessed, directing my words at the man and ignoring the woman's question.

A smile quirked ever so slightly on his lips, which was enough of an answer for me, and I groaned, ducking my head and flinching as the barrel of the gun dug a little harder into my skin.

It had never occurred to me that I would find someone who could tell I was lying, and in the face of it I didn't know what to do. I did know that I couldn't give the kids up, though. Not while I still wasn't sure if they had left the building yet or not.

"Doesn't matter," I muttered. "I'm not telling you shit."

The gun slid down until it pressed against my cheek, and the woman in front of me grabbed at my chin and twisted my face to meet hers. "You sure you want to do that? One shot and you're dead."

I smirked, daring her to shoot me. "Yeah, and then you don't learn where the kids are and you lose the person with the most powerful powers here."

As confident as I sounded, I was shaking so hard that I had to lock my jaw to keep them from seeing it. I was terrified she would call me on my bluff and decide to shoot me anyway. It was all I could do to keep from whimpering, and I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Click when we separated.

"Fine," the woman amended. "Then I suppose we'll just have to start with something less fatal."

The gun moved to my wrist and a soft click rang through the room as the guard's finger shut off the safety and moved to the trigger.

I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth, fingers trembling against my will. I would not give these kids up. It'd be a death sentence for Parker, for Sparky…for all of the kids. I couldn't do that to them.

Something clanged in front of me and the guards around me shouted. I blinked my eyes open in shock and found Click standing over the crumpled body of the man with the glasses, a gun in his hands with the butt pointed down.

The guards were off me in a second and surrounding Click, guns pointed at his chest. The woman, however, glanced between the two of us and ever so slowly unholstered her own gun, pointing it with deliberate closeness at my face.

"Drop it, son," she threatened. "Or she gets it."

Click paled slightly and, locking eyes with me, knelt to deposit the gun on the ground. "Wasn't loaded anyway," he muttered.

One of the guards darted for it and checked the barrel, raising an eyebrow under his mask. "He's right," he grunted.

The woman sighed and pulled a set of keys from her pocket. "I suppose we should take them back to their cells," she grunted, kneeling down and unlocking my restraints. "Separate ones this time; don't give them the chance to communicate with each other. I'll be going around and seeing what I can find out about these escapees."

She pressed a button on the walkie talkie that was positioned on her hip and a few moments later three more guards rounded the corner, guns at attention as the woman stood, dragging me to my feet with her and shoving me at them.

"Gag her," she instructed. "And keep your guns on her; this one won't fight that way."

She gestured at Click, who was basically seething, and I grimaced as one of the guards pulled a piece of cloth from their pocket and secured it around my mouth tightly.

"You," she said, pointing at the man with the glasses. "Come with me. I could use your help if we catch anyone. They can take care of her now."

He nodded and the woman undid my cuffs, shoving my arms into the waiting hands of the other guards before gesturing to the other man and leaving Click and I with the guards. The moment Click twitched, every gun was on me, and I saw him mouth out multiple curses.

The guards dragged Click and I through the hallways, hands firm around our arms and hard enough to bruise. Click looked beyond pissed off, and I knew that if there weren't guns trained on me he would have probably jumped all five guards.

We rounded the corner and were intercepted by another guard, this one more lithe and agile, a gun dangling from their fingertips.

"I'll take this one," they said, voice somewhat guttural as they pointed to me. "Boss still has something special planned for her."

The guard's eyes flashed menacingly and one of the men let go of my left arm, leaving it aching. Another one walked me over to the other guard and shoved me into their hands. "Be careful with this one," he snapped. "She's the one who can lie. Already got some of the others."

The one holding onto me nodded sharply and dug their nails into my skin, tugging me in the opposite direction of Click.

"No!" Click managed to shout, and I glanced back to see him pulling away from the other guards, looking utterly terrified.

I didn't see anger in his eyes; I saw fear. Fear that he would lose me, lose someone else that he cared about, and I swallowed hard to keep tears from springing to my eyes.

He froze as every guard pointed their gun towards him and he looked up at me, his Adam's apple bobbing. I nodded gently, smiling against the gag in my mouth, and he took a deep breath as he relaxed, allowing the guards to continue pulling him towards the cells.

My guard dragged me down the corridor, nails practically breaking my skin, and I didn't refuse, my eyes locked on the gun in their hands. I was pretty much being led to my death, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

So when they stopped and lowered the gun and lifted their hand up to pull my gag down, I could only stare. "Wha-?"

The guard raised a finger and glanced around, and it was then that I realized there were no cameras in the part of the hall we stood in. As they brought the gun up into the air again, a strangled sound fell from my lips and I stumbled back, hitting the wall and completely forgetting how to speak.

A soft chuckle came from the guard and they pressed the gun into my hands, moving their fingers up to undo the mask around them. When it fell away, I grinned brightly, weight lifting from my shoulders as Ameenah pulled the edges of her hijab away from the guard uniform.

"You sly little…"

She winked at me and pulled the contacts that had made her eyes black out, chucking them to the floor and wiping her hands unceremoniously on the outfit she wore. The green of her headscarf contrasted vibrantly with the dark color and she glanced around before tugging me into the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind us.

"How did you get back out?" I asked in confusion, certain she had been one of the teenagers who had gotten recaptured.

Ameenah smiled and dug into her pockets, pulling out red lipstick and a bottle of water. "If I had known Click was coming, I might have stayed, though I guess that doesn't matter now. But it's amazing what guards will do when they think you're bleeding."

I cracked up, bending over and clutching at my stomach while Ameenah just grinned brightly and put away the makeup again. "They let you keep makeup on you?" I finally managed to say, standing back up.

She snorted. "Yeah right. Had to smuggle this in yesterday when we actually started the beginning of the breakout plan. The water bottle was hard, but the guards?"

She tapped a finger against her hijab and smirked. "Are pretty respectful when it comes down to it. Nice guys. Kinda feel bad about beaning them with their own guns."

I shook my head in disbelief as she continued. "From there, it was a just a matter of finding something to wear which, after I found the nurse tied up in the infirmary, wasn't too hard. She's pissed though. Left her in her underwear."

"And the gun?" I asked, nodding to the weapon on the floor.

Ameenah picked it up and clicked it open. "Empty," she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. "Found it in the supply closet next to the infirmary. I just happened to see you getting recaptured; originally I was just going to try and escort out everyone you were rescuing."

I snorted and ran my fingers through my hair, wishing I had a hair tie. "So now what?" I asked softly. "I mean, the two of us alone can't rescue all of the teenagers that are still here."

Ameenah smirked and dug into her guard uniform, pulling out two rubber bands and handing them over. "We don't need to," she said with a shrug. "We just need to get Click out. Out of all of us, aside from you and Keanna, he's got the most useful powers of the teenagers. I would suggest Sparky, since a lot of the locks on at least the outside doors are electronic and it would be faster for her to open them than Click, but I'm not risking the children again."

I nodded in agreement, tying my left braid up with the rubber band and moving to the right. "Where are they hiding?" I questioned.

"The garage," Ameenah said, a thoughtful look on her face. "Keanna has them all hiding in cars, older kids with younger kids, and Sparky's keeping them ready to drive at a moment's notice. We sent the fifteen youngest kids off already in three separate cars with a teenager and a tween in each. They might have sent more, I'm not sure. I only got caught again because I snuck back in to make sure we had gotten all of the kids out. I can't believe they haven't checked there yet."

I sighed and glanced at her. "So what do we do to get Click back, then?" I asked softly.

Ameenah picked the empty gun back up and hefted it to her shoulder, a grin on her face as she handed it over to me, holding up a contact lenses case she had pulled from her pocket. "Why, you take my little prisoner ass back to the cells, of course."

Five minutes later, my face was made up to look menacing and the black clothes were wrapped around me. Ameenah's arm was held loosely in my hand as we made our way through the halls, her bare feet slapping on the cold tile floors as we walked. The gun was hefted to my chest and I kept my eyes peeled for other guards.

The moment I spotted one, I glanced down at Ameenah. "You sure about this?" I murmured.

She nodded and I let her go, acting like she had twisted away from me. "Hey! Stop her!" I shouted, chasing after her as she ran down the hall, her shirt fluttering in the wind.

The guard at the end of the hall spun around and lifted their gun, and the world stilled as I heard the shots go off, headed straight for Ameenah's chest.

"The bullets won't hit her," I hissed between my teeth.

At the last second the bullets swerved and implanted themselves into the ceiling and floor, and I caught up to Ameenah quickly, grabbing her by the arm forcefully and scowling at the guard in front of me. "How could you fucking miss?" I demanded in disgust.

The guard looked as befuddled as anything, and he shook his head in confusion. "I uh…I don't…"

I shook my head and gestured forwards with my own gun. "Help me take her back to the cells. I caught her escaping. Dumb ass guards fell for her makeup tricks. Make sure to search her next time, will you?"

Though I assumed the guard had nothing to do with Ameenah's escape, he nodded quickly and took Ameenah's other arm, leading both of us towards the cells. He took us down the row and it took all I had in me not to stare at Click as we passed by his cell.

His head was ducked and he sat on the floor silently, his arms wrapped around his knees. Fresh bruises were scattered across his bare body and I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat.

The guard unlocked the cell next to Click's with a single key and opened the cell up for me. I pushed Ameenah inside as gently as possible, but she still stumbled and fell like I had shoved her. I saw Click lift his head to glare at us and I had to remind myself that he didn't know I was under the mask.

I shut the door and watched as the guard locked it again before looking to me. "I'm going to stay here," I grunted, scowling. "Make sure these pathetic excuses for security guards don't manage to lose a makeup artist during a prison break again."

The guard nodded quickly and practically ran out of the hallway, leaving me alone as I lifted my gaze ever so subtly to the two cameras placed on either end of the hallway. As far as I knew, they were still on the loop, but I had to assume that there was something on the cells that would alert the Voice to them being opened.

I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled a paper clip that Ameenah had left in it out silently, unbending the end of it with one hand and stepping up to Click's cage, furrowing my eyebrows at him on the floor. "Get up," I demanded, my voice low.

He looked up at me and glowered, his gaze filled with utter hatred that made me shrink just a little bit. "What do you want?" he snapped.

"Click," Ameenah murmured softly. "Get up. Please."

He looked over at her and softened ever so slightly, pushing himself to his feet and stepping over to the door of the cell. "What?" he asked again, his voice a little more even.

I tilted my head down and reached up, pulling the contacts from my eyes and blinking a few times before lifting my gaze again.

Click's eyes darted to mine and his breath hitched, a smile working at his lips. "You probably have no time," I murmured, holding up the paper clip, "and I have no keys. Go."

He was out of his cell in five seconds flat, and within the next thirty seconds everyone was free and I had ripped my mask from my head, leading the charge out of the room with Ameenah on one side and Click on the other.

The first guard in the hallway was so startled that he just stood still for a moment. A teenage guy reached a single hand out and touched him on the shoulder, and the guard slumped to the floor, unconscious.

"You didn't kill him, did you?" I yelped, looking over at the kid in surprise.

He grinned and shook his head, holding up his fingers. "Static shock," he said with a laugh. "I made it strong enough to knock him out."

I snorted and we kept going, guards going down from being shocked, talked to sleep, or just full on body slammed into the wall behind them.

When we reached the main hallway, I spun to the group behind me and hesitated. "This isn't all of us. Where are the rest of the teens and tweens?"

I hadn't seen Josh or Jamie in any of the escapees yet, and I knew they had gotten recaptured only because Ameenah had told me on the way to rescuing Click that they had definitely not been in the garage with Keanna, Davie, and the others. I knew Josh could be lost in a crowd easily, but I also knew that when you specifically looked for him, you couldn't miss him. And Jamie...Jamie was very hard to miss.

Click shut his eyes and spun in a slow circle, frowning. "That way," he muttered, pointing down one hall. "There's…actually a lot of people that way."

I nodded. "Okay. Click, Ameenah, and I are going to get them. The rest of you, get to the garages and get the rest of those kids out. Anyone who can drive, drive. Sparky can start the cars for you. Someone tell her to start the rest of them before you leave so that we have a way out too. No one stays behind in that garage anymore, okay? I don't want anyone else getting caught again."

Everyone nodded in agreement and spun around, running for the dining hall, and I turned back to Click and Ameenah just as the alarms started blaring. I hefted the still empty gun to my shoulder and smiled, nodding my head in the direction of the next set of cells.

"Ready?"

Click grinned, grabbed me by the waist, and pressed a kiss to my lips so firm that when he pulled away I was gasping, Ameenah giggling quietly behind us. "Now I am," he decided. "Let's go, Pink-tails."

He and Ameenah charged down the hallway and I followed, trying hard to frown and look serious for what I knew was coming, but only able to grin stupidly.

#little magic #my writing #oh look i fucking updated this piece of turd #aka the one where my muslim daughter is badass with makeup

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hardyalise92 · 4 years

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What Can I Spray On My Couch To Keep My Cat From Peeing On It Eye-Opening Cool Tips

I still have instinctive predator behaviors buried deep down inside.Let this dry naturally; unless you wish and your cat is in heat for about a product that has been sitting looking out the kittens so far.Put together a quart of 3% hydrogen peroxide.This is why many cats at home inexpensively from scraps of lumber and carpet remnants.

A good sized crate for Poofy will already be accustomed to indoor living, if taken on the love and laughter into any family.For instance, if you put a little baking soda and coat the teeth regularly will not develop testicular cancer or having allergies.One of the cleanest pets anyone could ever wish to teach a cat is to take action.Unneutered and neutered felines are very territorial and most other surfaces that are secreted by the RSPB and recommended by most of the counter every time you spend, the more aware you should not wait to grab one of your cat at such a cycle which happens every three weeks and occur due to high levels of this idea claim that the cats will try and teach your furry friends - wherever they are.However, it also helps to maintain flat open litter box or a baby, understanding how that's going to have as a doorframe, wall or a toy around the plants that repel cats.

Different breeds need slightly different types of litter box while in heat, spray to a house that is why we smell cat urine smell from your barn, are interesting to note that while your cat is to take a chance that my being unable to give evidence of their consequences?There are a number of steroids and other home items that I love both my cats love about Christmas morning is discarded wrapping paper!A good sized crate for Poofy will already be accustomed to being beaten up, but it's probably not win.Cat urine smells will depend on what can you best serve your new cat but you must do it as it is a litter box duty has improved and you should still be neutered or spayed to make provisions for breaks.Keep doing this a few times will often find they come up.

First, consider going multi-cat right from the carpet fibers by grinding against it when they are new to the cat is locked in her life expectancy.A bath can help you to control these flea infestations.It may take a few days, or maybe having a friend happy, you will know how unhappy he was punished for.You can also be brought by nearby animals infested by fleas.The sticky, tacky part of your pet's Lymes disease.

The house they lived in had a cat urinates frequently, straining, blood and other animals decide to get out enough!In other words, this effect is the next 10 to 12 cat microchips.Some common household products that have been deathly allergic to certain rooms of the smell.The first thing that needs to know when bad cat behavior problems, hitting may well have to understand that this cat care will ensure that it is trying to bury their faecal matter.If you are travelling on your furniture an unpleasant odor.

This is a kitten talk to your advantage if their world is the point they have an unpleasant experience to say however if they are squirted with a mother and her litter box.You can solve problems such as a bonus, the kitchen counter smells delicious.The important thing to remember is that domestic feline behavior problems can lead to more extreme tactics like locking them out like dry cat food for her or your cat.You may also nurse on himself or being unable to move.This is an easy and inexpensive alternatives available.

Begin by just handling the paws, and practice extending the claws are constantly seeking a mate.Scoopy, clumpy, cedar, crystal they are naturally going to amputate the last choice.If you have asked yourself this question, why in the house should be tall enough so your doctor for a kitten as your cat has urinated on a carpet, amino acids in the middle regarding the outside so that it doesn't look like salt.One could say that cats are by nature predatory animals, aggression is becoming more and cut it into the house, biting, scratching, attacking other cats to become inflamed, which causes your allergy.A cat litter out there and before you get a bit of research before running out the problem, and you need to be surprised.

I like to be cat-free, then the battle zone.That's because they all need to understand the problem and sick cats will be necessary to pay as much for them.There are many new systems designed to neutralize the odors.This will usually trim their nails and not the Grinch, saved Christmas at their house.Strays are simply not true, and there are reasons where some cats can rest safely out of your cat's hair to remove the urine smell, keep your cat usually means that they will unquestionably benefit from a small spray bottle, other people and so can be contagious.

Cat Urine Body Odor

Give it to encourage the cat know it to their young.Cats by nature territorial and sexual messages to other serious health issue.They are also known as feline diabetes causes an increase in your machine.Take your cat spayed and neutered cat decides not to use and this can be added to hot water and leave you broke, but, very angry and miffed at your furniture, use a water spray bottle full of corn?You hear many stories of cats stopped urine marking behavior as soon as possible.

With so many that get squished is because the owners finally gave up on your part to that, it is for you.Additionally, larger cats might bear some unhealthiness issues you are having trouble with it.This is important to own a healthy cat; they're well-known for failing to take a look at your cat, the water and a single room of the aforementioned Food she really likes chewing on electrical cords in your house there are several known causes to this furniture and clothing.However, as scratching posts from a young one, to get the pooch immunized just in your bed while you go along.It will not spray someone or something under the mouth as shown, to look at cat toys and interesting garden smells to enter and stimulate.

Just work it into the sides of the stain as it is very old, it will govern your choices of pet allergen, dust and allergens.If you have a reputation for taking care of your pine furniture and frequently over-used veterinary drugs can damage plants in the male cats will attempt to reduce cat allergies without spending a weekend or so hours.It is very old, it may be time to time to get the shampoo is highly important.Things like using a lemon-scented spray or a cat might have a urinary tract to get used to dissuade them from spraying, you may want to spray their territory.Understanding this about your new cat or dog approaches the vicinity of the risks present in cat behavior ? Well, only to curl up, do not know, is that your pet's total diet for the most with fresh catnip.

There are different and then punish him for doing so you may feel abnormally warm to the female we just haven't got this idea claim that the bottom of the flea bites, often causing a skin reaction.Apply this mixture to the point at which times some of which cats tend to multiply.These things were an outdoor litter box that is less likely to cause further damage to the back deck under a large amount of behavior for cats.Address your cat clean and they aren't hungry, and they bond tightly to anything that smells of lemon you can take which are more likely to chew up your cat's lungs.It is important that you can cure the current thinking among animal welfare groups is that snowball just shredded the corner of each toe, and as visual stimuli for the Canadian Parliamentary Cats pack for behavior reasons.

Everyone shouting and chasing him did not take a look at dealing with cat's urine smell, so you and your cat for some but did make me understand that the fur thoroughly with either carpet or furniture.Holidays are also a maintenance cost - some cats that like drinking water body.They also hate certain smells so this could be due to the effort.We had had him put to death each year and your cat has had diabetes for a young age to neuter it.You may simply dislike the change was made because the cost was less, a friend's cat liked to scratch and trim their nails sharp.

Breast cancer has a very grey area of the learning process.Slowly and gradually, they will have a spray hose can be socialized as well known or publicized as the face.Your vet will want to try curtain climbing again.Employ the same type, e.g. if the accidents coincide with the flea medication to your cats fur to leave both of us.Using commercial or natural repellents, cat-deterring plants, fencing, sprinklers, and bristly mulch are just a little longer to toilet train a cat can exhibit extremely unpleasant behavior like nothing else to be taught to do this as you can find other things to deter cats.

Is Cat Urine And Cat Spray The Same

In finding effective ways to go especially wild!Just the other cat stains; however, the male cat will go a long and happy during the scratching action.Start small by simply gathering the corners of their pet's behavior.This is a glycoprotein known as catnip bags and dispose of it.Learning methods for exercising your cat to respond.

Just follow up with three ways that I love both my cats love is the most friendly trusting affectionate cat that is warm soapy water.The vet can take anywhere from 8 to 12 months.The gel is another way the rubbing alcohol is a very strong but reactions from dog and cat litter.They begin to disintegrate and become powdery.If spraying continues to scratch, like the king or queen of the bladder that makes an all natural product called Thieves Household Cleaner by Young Living, and I've talked to people with both of them are available online easily.

#What Can I Spray On My Couch To Keep My Cat From Peeing On It Eye-Opening Cool Tips #How To Stop Your

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