#ice and ibuprofen for the win

[vmures]

Gotta love when the universe is all "hey, bestie, just wanna let you know that gravity is still a thing. Couldn't possibly let you forget that, now could I?"

[mixingandmelting]

Hey so how do you think nightwing and Jason would deal with a s/o on her period and s/o’s just forcing themselves not to express things cuz “everything makes me want to cry” and s/o’s like “I feel like shit. Let’s go to a bar. I wish to be hammered by the end of the night”? S/o isn’t someone who drinks often, but their period makes them want to get passed out drunk every one day of the month?

Dick:

Having one of the most top notch detective skills that seconds to the worlds greatest detective, he’s usually right on the money that you’re on your period despite you not saying a word. Blankets, pillows, hot water bags, teas and your favorite ice cream are all getting stocked up and ready. He didn’t get more ibuprofen since it’s a staple to have some on hand for him when he’s on a mission, so he already has those. He spoils you silly, always checking that you’re alright and picking up anything you want on the way back. The kisses and touches he frequently gives on a daily basis aren’t as passionate compared to usual; the kisses are softer and don’t last long though filled with as much affection nonetheless while he purposely drapes his arms around your abdomen to have his body heat seep in and take the edge of the pain away. 

When you tell him how you're in the mood to go all out at the bar, he’s executing his plan of having a movie night instead. Cuddling you in his arms with a blanket wrapped around you, he’s attentive to change the water bag when it starts feeling cool and making sure there’s a fresh cup of tea right next to you. Sure it wasn’t what you had in mind, but he doesn’t want you to be in more pain the next day with the unneeded hangover-migraine.

Jason:

Isn’t as knowledgeable in what to do to help, but he’s able to pick up that you’re on period as soon as you get more quiet and not as expressive than usual. He’s often online and asking Dick on tips in getting your period cramp to go away and gets you everything you would possibly want and need. At one point he had gone to the store and got you a human-sized bear to squeeze when he was also trying to get Bizarro a stuffed Superman (canon by the way). Surprisingly, the blankets and pillows don’t get used as he finds himself being used as those two substitutes, thanks to his body temp running high. In a way, it’s a win-win situation from being able to hold each other to the two of your heart's content if not for how much pain your body goes through. 

But he puts a foot down when you tell him you’re getting hammered at the bar. It becomes a bit personal as it reminds him of his past regarding his mother on top of the hangover that’ll make things worse for you. Somehow he manages an impromptu snuggle session for the rest of the night, the two of you simply chilling while his large hand sprawls over your tummy, acting as a warmer that never gets cold to keep the cramps from coming back.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Clayton Keller

One-shots

Ain't That a Kick in he Head - Clayton X Fem!Reader - You watch Clayton take a puck to the face, suffice to say you are very much worried for your boyfriend at the end of the game.

The Giggles - Clayton X Fem!Reader - 18+ MDNI - You have your first ever kiss with Clayton and you can't stop giggling, it's fucking adorable.

Treat You Right - Clayton X Fem!Reader - You're not dating Clayton Keller, but there's one thing he can't stand and that's a guy not treating you with respect...turns out he hates it enough to fight a guy in a bar after a game.

"How dare you talk about my future husband like that.." - Clayton X Fem!Reader - Clayton is feeling self conscious about his eye since his injury, you are not having any of it.

"I've Got You..." - Clayton X Fem!Reader - You wake up at 2am to find you've started your period. Clayton takes care of you.

Marks on Your Skin - Clayton X Fem!Reader - 18+ MDNI - Clayton is a big fan of that particular lipstick you always wear, the one that leaves red marks all over his skin. He particularly likes kissing it off of you

The Puck-cident - Clayton X Fem!Reader - You are the unfortunate soul that takes a puck to the face during one of Utah's games, Clayton sees whole thing and demands to be let off the ice.

First Time For Everything - Clayton x Fem!Reader - 18+ MDNI - Follow up to The Giggles - Your first time with Clayton doesn't stop you giggling, if anything it makes the giggles worse. Luckily for you he still finds it endearing as fuck.

Dependable - Clayton X Fem!Reader - Whenever you're on your period Clayton is dependable, someone who knows what you need before you do. Aka a series of things Clayton does for you when you're on your period.

The Safehouse at the End of the World - Clayton X Fem!Reader - TW: Anxiety - When everything seems too much, too intense with the world, when it feels like you can't breathe, like the world is caving in and you're being hunted for sport, Clayton is the lighthouse you search for...the safehouse at the end of the world to bring you home.

The Jacket - Clayton X Fem!Reader - You've been making a jacket to surprise Clayton with for months, you finally get your chance at the first game of the season.

The Album - Clayton X Fem!Reader - Clayton finds out you have a photo album on your phone of pictures and clips of him.

Drabbles/Prompts

How he reacts to some guy being a creep towards you

Car Service

The Mystery of the Missing Chain aka Possessive Clayton 18+ MDNI

Spanking 18+ MDNI

Hand holding

Period Sex 18+ MDNI

“What’s that bruise from?”

Clayton calls you mama when you're pregnant

Clay sorting your pills/meds/supplements out for you (PCOS reader)

Cooking together

"Whose sweatshirt is that?"

Your initial tattooed on his ring finger 18+ MDNI

He has a sixth sense to help with your clumsiness

You're a little drunk

Learning to skate

Anaesthesia

Your initials on his tape job

Sequel - you find out your initials are on his tape job

'I can't pay the mortgage...'

Socks and Ties

The dimple

"What happened?"

Thighs 18+ MDNI

The broken toilet

Cooling off after an argument

"Come back to bed,"

“Bring a damn charger next time, you scared the shit out of me.”

“How fucking dare you- I am married.”

“Just- please, can’t you see she’s in pain?”

“Hey… hey… why are you crying?”

"'Can I borrow some money?"

“Hey, Look at me. I love you, okay?”

“Can’t sleep.”

"Such a good girl f'me." 18+ MDNI

“Such a good girl f’me.” Alternate

“Bet you they don’t make you sound like that, do they?” 18+ MDNI

“Your tie is all crooked”

"Please don't leave me like that ever again. It scared me."

Fairness (Dad!Clay)

Giving you his hoodie when you're cold

Winning the World Championship

“Ibuprofen and a red bull is not breakfast.”

“You’re going to bed, even if I have to carry you there myself.”

“I slept really good last night” (Dad!Clay)

Sick and Clingy

Love bites 18+ MDNI TW: Biting, Possessive Clay

Worry Wart

Amnesia

Play fighting

Giggly, sweet shit

Current boyfriend trend

Thoughts

Clayton and your neck - 18+ MDNI

Red Lipstick

Clayton who's not so good with girls

Nose boops

Biter - 18+ MDNI

Comedy club

You're older by a few months

The Chain - 18+ MDNI

Breeding Kink/Pregnancy Kink/Hockey team of kids dad Clay- 18+ MDNI

Baby's heartbeat

UHC Dads thread of madness (enjoy)

You're feral for Dad!Clay postpartum 18+ themes

You're a teacher; (2)

Let me romance him

Dad!Clay at a game

Small Town AU Masterlist

[milkmemes]

PINTEREST PROMPTS

Pinterest quotes with varying contexts. Some quotes may be suggestive. Adjust pronouns as needed.

❝It's always my fault, isn't it?❞ ❝Look at you comforting others with the words you wanna hear.❞ ❝It's not a thirst trap it's just a normal pic of me and I happen to be every sexy and gorgeous.❞ ❝There's just something better about sitting on the kitchen counter I can't explain it.❞ ❝Stop asking me if I'm okay. I'm not, I've been the same height since I was twelve!❞ ❝I'm so sexy and fun and fucking doomed.❞ ❝You're really funny but you seem to have a really nasty spirit.❞ ❝Goofy sense of humor, dirty mind, a kind heart, that's my type.❞ ❝I'm going to fight all tall people and I am going to win.❞ ❝An ice cream can fix it.❞ ❝Girls, I'm going to keep it real with you, I'm getting worried about my spotify wrapped already.❞ ❝My hands are made of mistakes.❞ ❝God I love girls and women and also titties and fruit.❞ ❝Does car sex in the rain with throwback r&b music sound romantic to you or is it just me?❞ ❝And after all of this I'm still horny. The human spirit is unbreakable.❞ ❝I feel bad for my exes, I look so good right now.❞ ❝Oh I'm sorry, did you forget I was better than you?❞ ❝The whole point of life is just knowing a bunch of weird stuff and being kind of flirty.❞ ❝You could grab my waist and guide me to grind down on you?❞ ❝Having fun? Whore.❞ ❝Yeah man, thanks for asking!❞ ❝I'm 5'1" but my attitude 6'1".❞ ❝Who's gonna let you?❞ ❝Who's gonna stop me?❞ ❝I'm a smart person, I just do stupid things.❞ ❝I know I'll never be good enough.❞ ❝I mean I personally would describe myself as the epitome of comedy but that's just me.❞ ❝The amount of inappropriate thoughts I have is concerning.❞ ❝Being a menace to society is a full-time job and I'm dedicated.❞ ❝I do a lot of illegal shit but littering is where I draw the line.❞ ❝All clothing is unisex if you stop being a little bitch about it.❞ ❝I am pursuing a PhD in profound friendships and beautiful women.❞ ❝Anyone wanna run from the police with me real quick?❞ ❝Stealing is okay if they have something you want.❞ ❝To hell with the consequences!❞ ❝I'm not supposed to be here.❞ ❝Okay but can HE fix ME?❞ ❝He ain't one of the creatures god made.❞ ❝You really like pink and violence.❞ ❝My body's check engine light has been on since I was fourteen.❞ ❝A lobotomy wouldn't even fix me.❞ ❝You're really gonna act like that when Santa Claus is literally on his way to town?❞ ❝For fuck's sake!❞ ❝Life is just one ibuprofen after another.❞ ❝The next ibuprofen will fix me.❞ ❝Work on your emotional control.❞ ❝Get hit by a car.❞ ❝The blood on my hands scares me to death.❞ ❝Are you hearing voices again?❞ ❝Sergeant sad eyes reporting for misery.❞ ❝My house is haunted because I live here.❞ ❝Me? Sarcastic? Never.❞ ❝I see things that nobody else sees.❞ ❝I speak prophecies and curses, not boy.❞ ❝It's not you it's my shattered dopamine receptors.❞ ❝I'm not lettin' nothing slide, not even the cha cha. That was your last time to get funky.❞ ❝You're giving off hotdog water vibes right now. Leave me alone.❞ ❝Thank you for the kind words! I don't believe them.❞ ❝Don't care bitch! I skin you like deer!❞ ❝Why does nothing ever go as fucking planned?❞

[artificialstardust]

Puck You

Hockey Player!Nick Folio x Reader

WARNINGS: hockey fights, backshots, oral (f receiving), creampie, biting, drinking, missionary, excessive use of “good girl” and “fuck”, possessive Folio

You were sitting in lower bowl waiting for the game to start. Your boyfriend Nick was a forward for the Pittsburgh Penguins. They had just finished up warmups so it’d be another 15 minutes before they went back on the ice. Tonight they were playing the Carolina Hurricanes, a rival for them.

Nick had told you earlier in the day that if Sebastian Aho said one small remark during the game, he was beating his ass. You’re holding him to it knowing that he most likely will. It happens pretty well every time they play the Canes. Aho never knew how to keep his mouth shut. Within time, the boys came out and lined up for the opening and for puck-drop.

The first period went relatively smoothly. The score being 1-1 and just slightly chippy from both teams. The second period being 3-1 ____. The Canes weren’t too happy about it either. Their boys getting visibly frustrated when they played even though there was still another period left. You could see Aho starting to say some shit to the guys as well. Throwing some more shoves than the first period.

The third period was definitely the most eventful. The score being 4-2 at the ten minute mark. Aho and Nick’s lines were both out again. You could see the two yelling at each other during plays. Nick was keeping his cool the best he could, until Aho checked Guentzel into the boards pretty hard. As soon as he did, Nick had both gloves flung off and had him by the shoulder pads, gripping him by the collar. Before Aho could even get his gloves off, Nick had landed a solid hit to his cheekbone. It didn’t take but a second for Aho to get his gloves off and throw one back at him. Nick had always been pretty good at avoiding most hits towards him, Aho only being able to land a couple. Nick had managed to land a few more solid hits before Aho was on the ice. Nick skated off towards the penalty box, his cheek being split a little. His helmet was off at this point, in his hand from where he picked it up. He threw his head back and then pushed his hair back out of his face, absolutely soaked from sweat. You could tell he was still fuming. He slammed the door closed behind him, both players receiving a two minute minor for roughing.

After that, the period stayed chippy, but ended with the Pens winning 5-2. You left your seat and went to where the families could meet with the players and talked with the other hockey wives and girlfriends. Eventually the guys started walking out. Nick walked up to you, wearing the suit he walked in wearing. He pulled you into a hug and buried his face into your neck. “The son of a bitch wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. Before he thew Guentzel into the boards he started making remarks about you” he mumbled. “You know he was only saying it to get to you babe, it’s okay” you told him, wanting him to calm down. He shot you a look, silently telling you that you’d talk about it at home.

The drive home was pretty quiet. You held his hand, trying to give him comforting touches. You got home and he unlocked the front door, holding it open for you. The two of you walked inside and he couldn’t help but smirk at seeing his last name on the back of your jersey. He closed and locked the door after he walked inside, kicking his shoes off by the door. He shrugged off his blazer and rolled the sleeves of his white button up to his elbows. “Go on upstairs for me baby, I’ll be there in a second” he tells you gently, pulling you in and kissing your temple. You hum in response, kicking your shoes off and then going to your bedroom.

He walked into the kitchen, getting himself some ibuprofen to help with the dull throb from the cut on his cheek. Then he grabbed a glass and poured himself a glass of whiskey. With the glass in hand, he headed to the bedroom. By the time he made it, you had taken your pants off. You were in the attached bathroom taking your makeup off, still wearing the jersey. He walked up behind you, setting his whisky on the counter, then wrapping his arms around you. “Love seeing my name on this jersey. Another way to make sure people know your mine” he mumbles, pressing lazy kisses to your neck.

You smiled at his words and actions. “So what exactly did Aho say to you?” You asked, wanting to know. He exhaled heavily before speaking, “fucker was saying that he could take you away from me. Saying that he could fuck you better, love you better. I tried to not do anything so he would think I wasn’t bothered by it, but then he threw my boy into the boards and that’s what did it for me. So I put his ass in his place” he said lowly. You were stunned a little bit by the fact that Aho thought it was okay for him to say that during a game of all places.

You turned around in his arms, hands coming up to cup his face. You noticed the broken skin, feeling slight relief that the trainers cleaned it up a bit. “Baby, you are the only one I want. Aho is a fucking bitch that likes to run his mouth.” He smiled at your words, looking down. He looked back up at you and kissed you softly. He picked you up my the thighs, setting you on the counter. He leaned around you and grabbed his whisky, taking a drink before holding it up to your lips. You took a drink, the liquid burning down your throat, warming you up instantly. He took it back and finished the rest of the glass. His eyes darkening as he looked back down at you. “Even after you saying that, I still think you need reminded as to who owns this cute little pussy of yours sweetheart” he grumbles against your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses.

He picked you up by the thighs again, carrying you to bed. He laid you down, taking his time to kiss on you. He pushes the jersey up, seeing that you already took your bra off. He didn’t think too much of it because he knows you like to sleep the jersey from time to time. He grins to himself, then leans down to swipe his tongue over your nipple. His hand moving to grope your other breast. Fingers rolling the hardened nipple between them. He nips and sucks on the underside of your breast, drawing whines out from you. He switches sides and does the same to the other. Before he pulls off, he bites gently at your nipple, drawing a small cry from you.

He sits back on his heels then looks at you, his hands on the waistband of your panties. “Can I take these off baby?” He asks. He’d always been adamant about asking to take them off, even when you told him he could just do it. You nodded your head, replying a verbal yes to him, Nick pulls them off, putting them in the pocket of his slacks. He puts his hand on your inner knee, spreading your legs gently. A blush spreading across your cheeks as he stares at your pussy, licking his lips. He leans down, pressing kisses up your inner thighs, taking his time, teasing you. “So wet from me princess. You look so fucking pretty from this angle” he smirks at you, blowing air gently at your exposed cunt. The action makes you whimper, trying to close your legs a little. He holds them open and then presses a kiss to your clit. He ghosts his lips over it, looking up at you, then licks a stripe up your pussy, sucking on your clit after as he catches it in his mouth. A light moan comes from you. “Jesus Nick” you breathe out, your head laying back against the pillow, enjoying the moment. Your hand moves to rest in his hair. You can feel him smile against you, he brings his hand up, tracing his fingers around your opening, then sinking a finger inside. A groan coming from your lips from the feeling. He licks at your clit while playing with you, watching your reactions. Your grip getting slightly tighter on his hair. He adds a second finger, doing a ‘come here’ motion with them, trying to work you towards your orgasm.

Moans from the back of your throat come from you, your hips starting to move to meet his movements. “Gettin’ close for me baby? Gonna cum on my face?” He teases, already knowing the answer. You nod quickly “uh huh” you choke out. He sucks on your clit a little harder, pushing his tongue onto it repeatedly to add a little more pressure. “Cmon baby, cum for me. Give it to me, wanna taste you” he groans against you. You do as he instructs, you pull his hair and press your head back into the pillows. Your thighs clench around his head as you cum, strings of moans coming from you. “That’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl for me” he says lowly against you, tongue fucking you through your orgasm.

After the waves pass, he pulls off of you, wiping your cum off his mouth on his arm. He leans up to you and kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls away, letting you take his shirt off. He gets up off the bed and tugs his slacks and boxers off, then crawls back onto you. He rests his weight on you, letting you feel his cock against your stomach.

“M’gonna be so fuckin deep baby” he leans up a little bit. He puts his thumb to right above where his tip rests on you “see baby? So deep in that pretty little cunt” he mumbles against your lower neck.

You whimper as he speaks. “Nicky please, I want it” you mumble against the side of his head. He pulls back and ghosts his lips over yours, teasing you. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you baby?” He says lowly. You whine and nod your head. He grabs his dick, lining it up with you. He taps it against you, then sinks in slowly. Both of you sharing a moaning at the feeling. He gives you slow, deep thrusts, wanting you to feel every inch of him. One hand on your waist, the other against the headboard to hold himself up. “Fuck you’re perfect. Like god made you just for me” he groans, his head falling forward. His hair falling in his face.

Your hands move to grab his neck, pulling him down to kiss you. He moans into the kiss, loving the attention. “Harder Nicky, please” you beg slightly. “Yeah?” He asks, starting to fuck you harder “want me to rough you up a bit?” His thrusts are hard and deep now, his tip hitting the spot you love. “Fuck, god yes” you moan out. Your eyes closing, head leaning further into the pillows. He leans down and starts to nip and bite at your neck. The hand that rested on your waist moving to hike your leg up over his hip, holding it there.

The new angle causes you to moan louder, your pussy fluttering against him. You move your hand down to play with your clit, your mouth gaping open at the added stimulation. “He could never fuck you like this. I’m the only one that can make you feel good. You’re mine. This pussy, in mine” he eventuates his last words with harder thrusts, causing you to moan louder. “Just you Nick, only you” you breath out.

He pulls out and flips you onto your stomach. Before you even have time to whine about feeling empty, he’s filling you back up again. Fucking you how he wants to. His thrusts are desperate, hard and fast. The jersey falling to gather around your waist. He places his hand between your shoulder blades and pushes your chest down to the bed. He then wraps on arm around your waist to play with your clit, the other holding your hip, pulling you back into him. He watches as your ass ripples with each thrust. He’s drinking in the sounds of your moans and whines, getting drunk off of them.

“God you look so pretty like this. Fucked out look on your face, my jersey on you, my cock deep inside of you. Wish I could see it everyday baby” he groans. He brings his hand off your hip and lands a smack against your ass, gripping onto it. You start fucking yourself back onto him “m’so close baby” you say. “Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock like the good girl you are princess? Give it to me, lemme feel it” he groans. Almost instantly, you grip the sheets in your hands, fucking yourself back against him more as your orgasm takes over you. Whines and moans rip from your chest. “Fuck Nicky, oh my god” you cry out. Nick moans as he feels you clamp down onto him. He fucks you through your orgasm, then puts both hands on your hips, fucking you roughly, chasing his orgasm. “God baby, where do you want me?” He asks. His breathing becoming labored. “Inside baby. Want you to fill me up” you moan out. As soon as you say the word, his chest is pressed against your back as he gives a few sloppy thrusts, cumming deep inside of you. He’s whining in your ear, working himself through it.

He stays there for a few minutes, catching his breath. He leans up, pushing his hair out of his face, then watches as he pulls out, groaning when he sees his cum leak out of you. He gives your ass another smack, grabbing onto it. “God I’ll never get tired of seeing that” he chuckles to himself.

He gets off the bed and tells you he’ll be right back. He comes back after a few minutes with a couple bottles of water, some snacks, and a warm washcloth. He helps you to lay on your back, then cleans you up. He hands you the water, already having the cap off of it for you. He kisses your forehead then goes and grabs a fresh pair of panties for you, helping you put them on. He cleans himself off, then pulls on a pair of sweats. “Doing okay baby? Is there anything else you want?” He asks, wanting to make sure his girl is good. “Yeah baby, I’m okay. I would love if you came back to bed though” you smile at him. A grin forms on his face and he crawls back into bed with you. You move to cuddle up to him, laying on his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, pressing another loving kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, Aho could never do that shit” you laugh. He leans his head back and groans then laughs with you. “Jesus, enough about that bitch” he jokes, then tilts your chin up to kiss you. “You know I love you right?” He asks against your lips. “The most.”

[edgessunflower]

From this prompt list: BRACE + LIFT + PILL + FROST with Rhea and Liv?

Ofc babe

Bump

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Fem reader x Liv Morgan

Description: After taking a bad bump your girls take care of you

"This match is very close, someone's gotta take drastic measures to win" you grab and perform a rock bottom on Shotzi feeling the adrenaline ooze out of you as she gets back up running and jumping on the ropes for standing moonsault. She pulls you down getting tangled in the ropes yelling as you try to get free before being drop kicked and landing on the floor feeling pain course through your body as you roll back in the ring not noticing the huge bruise on your side as the last few minutes of the match go on until it ends in a disqualification due to an interference from Asuka wobbling out of the ring making it halfway up the ramp before Liv and Rhea were by your side trying to help you up but you yell in pain leaning forward where they see the bruises and the scrape on the back on your neck before rhea lifted and carrying you to the med room where other than the bruises and scrape you had a cut on your face groaning as you brace yourself before being sat down in the locker room the three of you shared trying to relax but the pain was relenting none the less. Tears brim from the pain as rhea helps you change into a loose shirt and pants "Shh I know baby I'm sorry almost done" liv comes back handing you Ibuprofen taking it while rhea grabs small bags of ice holding your hand "Take a deep breath possum I know this isn't going to be pretty" you squeeze her hand before she quickly places one of the ice bags on your side yelping from the chill that runs through you jumping as the girls place and tape the ice on you leaning your head on rhea's shoulder while liv fixes your shirt before tucking loose strands of hair away from your face eating before leaving the arena back to your shared hotel room groaning as they take the ice off and put fresh ice on you propping you against pillows in bed giving you Tylenol before you finally got comfortable to sleep with the girls by you being sure to be careful with how they held you as they slept.

[arealphrooblem]

A Favor for a Favor Part 7 -- The End!

Part one here

CW for the fic overall: kissing/fade to black off screen sex, mentions of non-consensual drugging, non-graphic wound care, off screen murder mention

Synopsis:

When Roxanne -- Agent name Rocket -- is back-stabbed by a friend and given a serum that drains her of her powers and leaves her helpless, she has no choice but to turn to the one person she can't trust: Her nemesis -- a politician and king of the underworld. With her powerless and in the palm of his hand, what he decides to do with her is greatly influenced by their chance meeting as teenagers that neither of them have been able to forget.

The Present

The next morning she woke up alone. The Ibuprofen and a glass of water were on the nightstand next to her. But his side of the bed was tidy, the covers made up. There was no sign of him in the apartment. 

Unease stirred in her gut as she wandered the rooms. Last night was an impulsive, reckless, stupid decision that would cause unnecessary complications, but she didn’t regret it. He wanted it as much as she did, a fact that continued to surprise her. 

Unless, of course, he didn’t. 

Unless, of course, he distracted her with it and then snuck off to do something . . .nefarious. She didn’t know what. But trusting him these last few days felt like walking on cracked ice. She hoped with every fiber in her body that it would hold up, but if she sunk through, it would be no one’s fault but her own. 

Everything depended on him right now and it scared the shit out of her. Now she realized why he had acted so feral and wary of her when she rescued him. It was hard to be in someone’s debt when they could ruin you in an instant. 

He kept her suspended in gut twisting suspense for the better part of that day. When he finally stepped through the front door, she was moments away from climbing the walls. 

“Where the hell did you go?” she demanded. “You didn’t leave a note, you’ve been gone for hours!”

He said nothing as he hung his coat up. She felt like a hysterical house-wife, sizing him up for an affair. Ridiculous. 

He continued to say nothing as he walked towards the living room, small briefcase in hand, and set it on the coffee table. It clicked open to reveal a padded inside, with space for a needle and a vial of dark liquid.

Roxanne felt like all the air had been punched from her chest. 

“Is that . . .it?” she dared to ask. 

“Yes. I didn’t trust it to be delivered, so I secured it myself.”

She stepped forward, taking the vial out with great care. Hope crested like a sunrise in her chest --

They pay for it of course. A favor for a favor.

And reality bloomed like a dark cloud. 

“What do I owe you for this?” she asked, turning to him. 

He looked at her with that same inscrutable expression from last night. “Nothing.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Bullshit. You never do something out of the kindness of your heart. A favor for a favor, right?”

“I’m not doing it out of kindness.”

The realization hit her like a flash of lightning. “You still think you owe me.”

It was a relief as much as a disappointment. Because of course this strange connection between them was nothing more than transactional for him. And what did that make last night -- an indulgence? A debt?

“Of course I owe you,” he said. “You saved my life. I wouldn’t be where I am without you. But I’ve repaid that debt many, many times without you ever knowing it.”

“What do you mean?” A pit grew in her stomach.

“I know your birth name. I know you were illegally unregistered as a teenager. I know where your parents live and what they do. I have more connections and contacts than you could ever uncover. Do you have any idea how easy it would have been to stop you from your investigations, your attempts to dethrone me? And this is before I had the neutralizing serum created.”

She swallowed thickly, feeling sick. “So all my victories against you only happened because you let me win?”

God, she couldn’t even look at him. All these years thinking she had made some kind of difference, some kind of impact, and he was just toying with her. A cat with a mouse. 

“No, you earned those.”

He stepped closer to her, tilting her chin up. She reluctantly met his gaze, too afraid to believe the sincerity in it.  

“I’ve put in considerable resources to get you to stop. But I didn’t put them all in. If I had focused all of my efforts into stopping you, you would not have been able to withstand it. But I never did so and that is because I owed you.”

“So what is this?” She shoved the vial against his chest. “No more mind games, John. I need to know where we stand.”

“This . . .” He placed the vial back in her palm and closed her fingers around it. “This is because the world needs people like you because it makes people like me. This is because you are the only person who ever wanted anything better for me. This is because I want to.”

Again, the fear of trusting him beat in her chest. It sounded too good for truth. John did not make himself vulnerable to anyone. He learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago and she didn’t really blame him for it. But if she added all these pieces together, it only presented one solution.

“ . . . Do you love me?”

His gaze did not shy away from hers. “Do you think I would ever admit it if I did?”

“I think . . .” She squeezed the vial. “I think you already have.”

“Then you have your answer.”

The Past

When she came home from school, the burden of her project finally lifted, the place was empty. She called for Cornelius but he wasn’t in the library or the living room or the kitchen. None of the bathroom doors were shut. Panic growing, she looked around the apartment for signs of struggle -- what if he had been kidnapped? But the place was clean -- cleaner than when she left that morning. Dishes had been washed, trash taken out, the towels and blankets from the couch in the laundry room. 

The only sign of him she ever found was a note, scribbled on a ripped piece of printer paper, under her pillow. 

Thank you

I owe you.

[xr0ttingch3rryx]

i love cherry wine by hozier so much and so i made it into a short story :)

"The Blood Is Rare and Sweet"

I heard the key click in the lock from outside of the apartment, and I felt my heart skip a beat  and a flurry of butterflies erupted in the pit of my stomach. My fingertips tingle in anticipation at the night I now knew I had ahead of me. She had finally come home. As the door opened, I saw her  in all her glory. Dimly lit by the small hallway light, her golden hair seemed to shine brighter than  ever before. She was dressed in a simple slip dress and classy heels, but she wore it with such grace  and elegance that, to me, she was an angel. As she took a few steps forward, she stumbled into the  wall, knocking one of my pictures off of it. This was expected of her though. A daughter of  Dionysus, she called herself.  

I got up from my place on the couch and went over to my angel swiftly, ready to catch her  fluttering wings, place her halo securely atop her beautiful head. I walked her over to her armchair,  and placed her down ever so softly. Instead, she threw herself onto the chair with a huff. Her hair  blew over her face, and it covered her crystal clear, enthralling eyes. I reached out and tucked the  unruly strands behind her ears. 

“You’re in my space , Andrew,” her voice, icy and cold as always, still managed to burn when  it made contact. It was a sensation I had grown to adore, to crave when she’s not around. Walking my  day on a wire, secretly hoping to lose my balance. She doesn’t mean anything by her words I don’t  think. She loves me, I know she does. I can see it in the way she tells me I’m hers, and she’s mine. I  know she means it. She grabs my face by either side, puts her perfect nose against mine, and breathes  her sweet cherry lip gloss into my lips, whispering the words over and over again. That’s love. It has  to be. 

“I’m sorry, ma cherie,” an ode to her real name Cera (cherry in her native tongue), “are you  cold? Can I get you anything?” I stroked the back of my hand against her delicate cheek, and she  slightly leaned into my touch. These fleeting moments of romance are what kept me going. Small,  pure, almost clean moments amongst the ugly, more unspeakable moments.  

“Water. And I’m tired, I want to go to bed.” She sighed dramatically and nestled deeper into  the cushions, irritatingly closing her eyes. It was just her headache, I knew that. I quietly dipped into  the kitchen and got her ice cold water and some ibuprofen. I walked back over to my Cera and handed  her the glass. I let her take a few big gulps before handing her the ibuprofen, which she rolled her  eyes at, but took anyway. She hauled herself to the bedroom and didn’t bother taking her shoes off  before jumping in my bed. That was okay though, I would do it for her. So I did. Carefully, as to not  stir her too much, I removed her heels, and her dress, and her stockings, I put her hair down and  tried to wipe off her makeup. I then gave her one of my sleeping t-shirts, her favorite t-shirt, and she  slipped into it.  

The look on her eyes. I knew what was coming. I had been waiting for it all night; the moment  she broke, couldn’t contain it any longer. 

“Andy, sweetheart,” she breathed in deep, seething with a newfound rage, “can I ask you a  question?” We were playing a very dangerous game. I knew it, she knew it. I was going to lose, that  there was no doubt about, she is a fiery lion, and I am merely a meek lamb. This game was not about  winning, it was about the fight.  

“Of course, angel.” My hands trembled, my knees felt weak. I prepared myself for the burn,  her fight and her fury was fiery. 

“Why is it that you’re home alone on a Friday night? Hm?” She looked over at me and cocked  her head almost innocently, but I knew there was nothing innocent about this question. I didn’t,  however, know what my response should be. What could I say that would diffuse this situation?  “I- I was waiting for you to come home, ma cherie.” 

Her face twisted, her eyes looked crazy, her eyebrows half raised. I had said the wrong thing.  She was done with words, though, and that much was clear when she lunged at me. I caught her mid  fall, she was still too drunk to stand up on her own two feet. It occurred to me that in that moment,  I was helping my attacker get back up, to give her another shot at me. When she was back on her feet,  she did just that, but that’s when she realized she didn’t have the strength to hurt me, she was too  weak, too tired, too sweet.  

So she did the next best thing. She grabbed a secondary weapon, the unassuming glass of water  she had requested. The one she had not yet taken a single sip out of. She grabbed the glass hastily,  dumping out most of the water in the process. She lifted it up above her head, aimed it at my head,  swung her hand backwards, and threw the glass with as much force as she could muster. I saw the  physical toll that it took on her. The second the glass left her hand, she slumped backwards onto the  bed, drained and defeated. The glass on the other hand, was not drained or defeated. 

It shattered on the wall to the left of my head, falling to the floor in tiny little shards.  Although one of those shards, free and wild, as if it had a mind of its own, ricocheted from the wall  and made its way directly to my face. It lodged itself firmly in my cheek, right below my eye. I  immediately felt the blood pooling by the wound. I covered it with my hand and ran from the room,  closing the door behind me before stepping into the bathroom. 

The mirror in my apartment bathroom was old and rusty, with dings and scratches from  owners past, but nevertheless, my reflection was crystal clear. An open wound on the left side of my  face, blood smeared everywhere. I began to wash off the blood, watching it slowly dilute with the tap  water and go down the drain, the evidence almost all gone. I washed my face and nursed my wounds,  careful not to stain any part of my bathroom wine red. While I did this, I thought. I listened out for  Cera, and I thought. I thought about her question. Why had I stayed home on a Friday night? I could  have gone out, my friends were currently still at the bar. I could still go out. I didn't have to stay in  this apartment and deal with her unspeakable moment.  

But I knew I wouldn't go out. And I would stay in this apartment and deal with any moment,  no matter how unspeakable, because even though this love hurts me, hurts me so deep it draws blood,  it's worth it. I will never find love like this outside of these four walls. This special, twisted, sometimes  cruel love is all mine. It’s as rare and sweet as the most priceless cherry wine.

[tgmsunmontue]

Another Time (Chapter 4/14)

ONE TWO THREE

Summary: Jake wakes up in Rooster's body about ~30 or so hours post-Mission and they have to deal with it. They're adults. Apparently.

(Posting on Tumblr, chapter a day until it's complete (currently 14 chapters already written), after it's complete I will post it on AO3 once a day until it's completed there as well).

                The travel back passes in a fugue state, too long to be anything other than exhausting. He’s sitting beside Coyote who had just passed him Hangman’s packed duffel with a smirk and Bradley had taken it gratefully. He’s gone through the absolute emotional wrecker in the last seventy hours and he’s pretty sure the only reason he’s not falling apart is because his physical injuries are currently not something he needs to worry about. They’ve just ticked past the twenty-four hour marker and he’s ready to give this some serious thought. He somehow wants to get Hangman back to his place, both actual Hangman and the body of Hangman. He’s trying to formulate reasons, excuses or a plausible story when he realizes that they’ve landed and disembarking. Phoenix and Bob are shepherding/supporting Hangman and Rooster scrambles to follow, throwing the duffel over his shoulder.

                “Rooster!”

                “He needs to go to the hospital,” Phoenix snaps and Bradley frowns, because he knows that.

                “Yeah, I was going to take him there and then take him home.”

                “Home?” Phoenix asks him, one eyebrow raised and Rooster realizes then that Hangman would have no idea that he has a house off-base.

                “Yeah, he gave me his keys,” Bradley says, and it’s an outright lie because he pocketed them automatically when he’d packed his duffel earlier but it suits the moment, although he can tell Phoenix is suspicious, although the fact he pulls the keys from his pocket adds credence to his claim. Hangman looks pale and sweaty and Bradley wonders if the ibuprofen he had twenty-four hours ago was the last time he had painkillers, the vibrations in the COD wouldn’t have helped anything. “He’s under strict orders to go directly to the hospital…”

                “He is. And I will take him there.”

                “Oookay. Yeah. Sure,” Bradley agrees, because he learnt long ago not to argue with Phoenix. “I’ll get a lift back to his place and then meet you at the hospital with his car so I can bring him home.”

                It’s a compromise, and Hangman isn’t known for being so accommodating but this places him in his own fucking house, able to look after Hangman as he suffers the pain of dealing with Bradley’s body post-mission and he’ll take his wins where he can. He watches Maverick trail after them and wonders if Ice has directed him to have a full check-up as well. Hopefully anything Hangman says can be put down to pain, exhaustion or being drugged to the gills; because he expects that to happen. Drugs that is.

                He returns the hug Coyote gives him, tells him he’ll see him soon, and they have a further debrief tomorrow, although he has no idea how that’s going to work when he has no idea what the fuck Hangman was doing while he was chasing after Mav… Fuck. Hangman having to try and justify his actions without knowing anything. Ugh. What a shit show. He’s glad someone is driving him and is even gladder when he’s standing outside his childhood home, the sense of homecoming still there despite the emptiness. He takes the time to shower, shaves and tries (and suspects he fails miserably) at styling Hangman’s hair before heading to the hospital. He’s not got many options in terms of clothes in Hangman’s duffel, but dark jeans and one of his own Henley’s make him feel a little more comfortable. He’s off the clock.

                He gets to the hospital and follows the instructions to the fracture clinic, where both Mav and Hangman are being seen. Phoenix is sitting in the waiting room, and he makes himself comfortable in the chair beside her.

                “They good?”

                “Both had x-rays, and then Mav mentioned that some of his injuries were probably old, from a different ejection a few weeks ago. Bradley vommed everywhere, so they drugged him up with anti-nausea and some morphine. His ankle is fucked and the way they were talking about it was making me feel queasy so I excused myself.”

                Bradley doesn’t even know where to start with that flood of information. TWO ejections. Fucking hell. And his ankle is apparently fucked, which doesn’t tell him anything. He pats Nat on the shoulder and murmurs about going in to check on them and she mutters a good luck under her breath, clearly thinking him a fool. He pushes the door open and both Mav and Hangman look to him.

                “Looking good Hangman…” Hangman slurs and Bradley wonders if he’s even aware right now of what he’s saying and who to. Bradley starts the automatic reply though, feeling near hysterical amusement bubbling through him.

                “I am good Rooster, – ”

                “Too good to be true,” Hangman finishes and Bradley throws back his head and laughs.

                “Man, you are high.”

                “He sure is. Was talking about the time he fell off a horse and broke his arm as a kid. He’s never ridden a horse.”

                Bradley nods and smiles, feeling a little manic, because Seresin probably has ridden a horse. He wants to ask Mav how he is, but he’s not him right now. Fortunately the doctor enters the room and she’s looking between the three of them.

                “Are you here to take him home?” She asks, gesturing toward Hangman.

                “Yeah, is he good to go?”

                “As good as we can get him. We’ll want to do another CT in 24 hours once the swelling has gone down further.”

                “Too good to be true…” Hangman mumbles and Bradley’s lips twitch.

                “Are you staying with him?”

                “Uh. Yeah. He’s, we’re, uh… yeah.”

                Fuck. Mav is watching them both, soft smile on his face and Bradley wants to offer… something. Anything. Whatever he says though is not going to come across right, is going to cement firmly whatever assumptions Mav is making about him and Hangman. Which might not actually be misplaced in a few months’ time but right now… it’s just too much. He takes the discharge papers and listens to the instructions about pain meds, concussion protocols and asks for a pen so he can make a few notes. Says he can pick up the script easily enough. Or even ask Phoenix to do it.

                He can worry about Mav later.

FIVE

[allylikethecat]

ugh like picture it.. sitting on your partners lap & falling asleep to their heart beat full of angst/hurt/comfort w matty & george.. dare i’d say you’d win a noble peace prize

Remember when I said this morning I was going to write something from the Sleep Prompts list next? Apparently that was a lie 😂

Also, I apologize that this has taken me literal months to finish! Anon I hope that you're still here and that this was worth at least some of the overly long wait.

I think I was missing working on the A&E fic a little bit... because we have a sick Fictional!Matty in this one... I hope you like it! Thank you so much for sending this prompt in, in the first place! I'm sorry again it took me so long to finish!

This is from the physical intimacy prompts list which can be found here. I am always taking more prompt requests even if it apparently takes me months to finish them - I promise I WILL finish all of them eventually though!! I have a spread sheet!

❤️Ally

Sitting in your partner's lap & Falling asleep to your partner's heartbeat 

George was angry. He was angry at Jamie and the rest of their team for scheduling so many back to back tour stops. He was angry at Matty for hiding how sick he was. But most of all, he was angry at himself for not noticing. He was angry that he hadn’t noticed the way Matty had been turning away from him in bed, desperate to hide his fever and wheezing breath. He was angry that he hadn’t noticed Matty’s shaking hands, and that he was swallowing ibuprofen and tylenol like they were tic-tacs, alternating every three hours. That he hadn’t noticed that Matty wasn’t drinking, that his cough wasn’t the ever present smoker’s rattle from a pack a day, a pack he hadn’t touched in a week, but rather infection settling into his lungs, filling with fluid to drown him on land. 

Matty had stumbled down the hallway as soon as they exited the B stage, the roar of the crowd still echoing in their ears. He had grabbed at his chest, gasping and choking on phlegm, coughing so hard he couldn’t even hope to catch his already short breath, dropping to his knees as his shoulders shook. There was a medic on him instantly, getting him upright, pressing an oxygen mask to his face. George watched in horror, frozen in place, his sweaty shirt clinging to his back, still clutching his drumsticks as Hann nudged him forward, reminding him he should go with Matty as the medic whisked him away. George wondered if they were supposed to tell someone they were leaving as he followed Matty into the back of the ambulance.

George was afraid, curled in on himself, trying to seem smaller and stay out of the way as the medics worked on Matty, listening to his heart, wincing at the crackling in his lungs. He’s not having a heart attack, don’t worry, one of the medics had tried to assure him kindly. George wasn’t sure how that was supposed to help when Matty still couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t sure when they became old enough for a heart attack to be a valid concern. George squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach flipping as they sped out of the venue and down the congested city streets. The perks of playing in arenas designed for ice hockey, he thought, squeezing Matty’s hand, the ambulance was parked inside the tunnel. 

George ran his hand down Matty’s back, fingers brushing each bump as his spin curved through the opening of his hospital gown. He had lost weight over the course of his illness and George hated that he was just now noticing, not realizing Matty was belting his pants a hole tighter, moving his food around his plate without eating it, nausea churning in his belly. 

Matty had been agitated, shivering with fever and fatigue clinging to George as if he was the only thing tethering him to this earth. The doctor that examined him was shocked that he had made it through a two hour concert with his fever, with his low oxygen levels, with his lungs hitching on every breath, catching against the infected fluid. Not only that he had been able to perform, able to sing, but that it wasn’t the first two hour show he had performed that week. 

The doctor ordered a chest x-ray that led to a pneumonia diagnosis. Matty had coughed, rasping that he wasn’t some sickly Victorian child despite what Twitter might think, that he was going to be fine. George didn’t comment on the fear in his glassy eyes. 

He was started on IV antibiotics and fluids, an oxygen mask fitted over his face to help him breathe easier, even if Matty kept taking it off to cough wetly into his elbow. He spat thick green mucus into a tissue, his nose wrinkling in disgust each time he would weakly toss the tissue into the bin they had placed next to his bed. After a while George started taking the tissues from him, Matty too weak to even lift his head and toss them himself. 

Matty tried to argue that George didn’t have to stay, even though it was clear to George, clear to anyone with eyes, that Matty didn’t want him to leave (not that George would ever leave.) He insisted that he was fine, even as he looked anything but, his cheeks pale and his eyes sunken, his breath shallow as he coughed. He told George to go back to the hotel, told him to go shower and rest. But even as he spoke he kept his fingers tangled in the fabric of Geroge’s stage button down. Even after all these years, Matty didn’t like to let himself need others, he didn’t like to be what he thought of as a burden even though he was anything but. George had just climbed into the hospital bed with him, and pulled him into his lap, assuring him that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Matty had his cheek pressed to George’s chest, the steady beat of his heart, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled, lulling him to sleep like a toddler on a car ride, their legs tangled together on the rough sheets. Matty had fought at first to keep his eyes open, grumbling that he wasn’t tired. But the antibiotics made him woozy as his adrenaline crashed, his body no longer in a desperate survival mode. He started to relax, realizing he was safe now, wrapped in George’s embrace, getting the treatment he needed. George could feel him trembling in his arms, trying to time his own breaths to the beat of George’s heart. 

“Rest Matty,” said George, pressing a kiss to the top of Matty’s head, his sweat damp curls tickling George’s nose, as his breathing slowly evened out. He didn’t get a response, Matty growing heavier in his arms as he finally fell asleep. 

[mania-sama]

day 5 post-op update: things are ACTUALLY improving. like actually. i've really noticed a true step up today in pretty much every aspect of my recovery and that makes me very happy.

the most important thing that happened today, medically, is that i started the saltwater flush. i was TERRIFIED of this originally because i thought it was going to hurt, but then i pulled up my big girl pants and finally went through with it. didn't hurt it all. the second time i did it today, though, i felt some pain afterwards. so i don't know what that's about. hopefully nothing serious!!!

today's food:

THREE cheesesticks

TWO bottles of water

ONE cup of kraft mac n cheese

ONE mini m&m sonic blast

ONE packet of mini fudge muffin brownie things??? idk what they are called

ONE bowl of chocolate ice cream

THREE vitamin gummy bears

i.... ran out of pudding, sadly. HOWEVER. i am not sad, because i hit my FIRST GOAL!!! i comfortably ate a cheese stick today!!!! it didn't even really hurt the first time i did it. the second and third were a little questionable, but it's okay. we live and we learn. the gummy bears are definitely too much for me but i fucking love my vitamin gummies so they went down the hatch.

MY FOOD RECOMMENDATION. i would say the mac n cheese for today still wins, but maybe tomorrow... maybe tomorrow will bring something new to the table. i don't know. as far as my lord and savior (sonic milkshakes) go, the m&m blast was a mistake. i was not ready for that. i thought i would be fine, but that shit was PAINFUL. i still ate all of it though because damn i wanted it. but definitely too early for me.

ratings:

pain: 5/10. I WOKE UP THIS MORNING TO NO PAIN. obviously i am in pain right now, but... all of it is significantly less than yesterday. this has been the most obvious improvement to my pain since the surgery. i was even able to hold out an hour longer this morning before i took my horse-power ibuprofen. also, i can tell that my pain is now radiating specifically from my sockets. that means my general jaw soreness/pain has decreased immensely. good times!!!

stitches: 4/10. they are still there. i found both of them, but.... i think they (the oral surgeon) is gonna have to clip them out when i go back in two days. which. i'm not excited for that!!!

swelling: 5/10. definitely going down now!! i'm still swollen, obviously, but i think by this rate i might be mostly back to normal tomorrow.

talking: 8/10. ITS SO MUCH EASIER. i can't open my jaw all the way yet, so i'm still biting a lot of my words, but i'm getting there. it isn't causing much pain anymore. and for that, i am very very greatful.

overall: 8/10. not that i necessarily feel the best, but today has been so good in terms of improvement that i am HAPPY. so today gets a very good rating, and i am hoping tomorrow will be EVEN BETTER!!

[gamesetcheckeredflag]

best ranked

i just realized i have a finished sincaraz fic that i forgot to post so here it is.

pairing: jannik sinner x carlos alcaraz summary: at the atp finals jannik ran into his ex gf and carlos is protective word count: 1500

Jannik woke up early in the morning and a smile made its way up his face when he noticed Carlos’ chest was pressed on his back and his arm was laid over his waist.

Careful not to disturb Carlos who was still sleeping he wormed his way out from under the blanket to head to the bathroom so he could get ready for the day. It was his first free day since he arrived in Turin for the ATP Finals and he couldn’t be happier.

After the last weeks that were full with practice and matches, he was glad to just spend a day with his boyfriend in town, eating gelato and relax even though Jannik would be even happier if Carlos just took the day to rest as he was still sick but the Spaniard was stubborn.

When Jannik returned he found Carlos still in the bed but he now had his eyes open and was checking his phone.

“Hey babe. How are you feeling,” Jannik said as he stepped closer to Carlos and pressed his hand to Carlos’ forehead to check for a fever.

“I’m good, amor. Just a bit cold,” the younger man answered while he was visibly shaking under the thick blanket.

“Not surprising. You have a fever Carlitos. You should really be resting today instead of going in town with me.” The redhead looked at Carlos with worry in his eyes.

“No. ‘m fine. I will just take some ibuprofen.”

Jannik could only shake his head at Carlos’ stubbornness but relented. There wasn’t much he could do. He knew his boyfriend and he could only stop him by tying him on the bed and that was obviously not gonna work out.

***

Around an hour later they were wandering through the streets of Turin, with Carlos swaying a bit from time to time as he was still dizzy from the illness because the ibuprofen hasn’t really kicked in yet.

“Look, Jannik! An ice café! Let’s go there!” Carlos said excitedly while pointing at the café nearby.

“Babe, we just ate breakfast half an hour ago and you are sick. Are you sure you wanna eat ice cream right now?”

“Yes, amor. Let’s go. Pleaseee. I just wanna have Italian ice cream.” Carlos looked at his boyfriend with those big brown eyes and Jannik couldn’t help but relent.

And so, ten minutes later, they were sitting on a bench with Carlos happily licking on his ice cream.

“I don’t know how, but Italian ice cream is better than ice cream anywhere else. Seriously, amor, what are you guys doing differently?”

“Carlitos, are you sure everything you took earlier was ibuprofen? Because you are a bit over the top today,” the Italian said while looking Carlos in the eyes as if he could find an answer there. But all he could see were brown – that in this particular lightning had green dots in them – eyes that were staring back.

“Only ibuprofen. Nothing else. I am just so happy because I am in Italy with my boyfriend who is number one in the world and plays so good tennis, he’s gonna win the ATP Finals,” Carlos said while grinning widely which remembered Jannik more of a five-year-old kid than a grown adult.  

“You don’t know if I’m gonna win, Carlitos. Maybe you will.” Immediately after Jannik said that he received the biggest side eye from Carlos.

“Amor, I think we both know that the chances of me winning in this state aren’t exactly high. But it doesn’t matter I will be super happy when you will stand there with the trophy.”

Jannik couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend’s words.

“I will just head to the bathroom for a moment but I’ll be back in a minute,” Carlos said as he raised from his chair while Jannik just nodded.

For a moment he just continued sitting at the table but a moment later, he heard a voice.

“Jannik?” A young, blonde woman was standing in front of Jannik. And he recognized her. It was Sofia, his ex from when he was still in high school.

They had broken up after Jannik had noticed she was just playing with him, having cheated on him multiple times and always made fun of him with her friends.

“Sofia. Schön dich mal wiederzusehen,” (nice to see you again) Jannik said, forcing a smile on his face. It wasn’t nice to see her. Just her standing in front of him brought back memories he would rather forget. She nearly made him give up his dream of becoming a tennis player and made him very insecure.

He had read many comments on the internet about how cold he is, always retreating and that he always seemed as if he hated being around people, but these people didn’t know why he was like that. It was a self-defense mechanism he had used to keep himself from getting hurt again. He didn’t need to live through all of this again.

“Ja, wirklich schön. Bist du hier um dieses Tennis Turnier zu schauen? Wie hieß es noch gleich? ATP Finals? Da du ja kein professioneller Spieler werden konntest schaust du denen die es konnten zumindest zu?“ (Yes, very nice. Are you here to watch this tennis tournament? What was it called? ATP Finals? As you didn’t manage to become a professional tennis player are you at least watching these people who did?) Jannik realized that Sofia was just trying to provoke him, obviously having no clue that Jannik was indeed there for the ATP Finals, but not to watch it, no, to play there.

He wanted to say something to catch her off guard but, in that moment, he could only sit there and look at the melting ice in the glass in front of him.

But luckily, he could see Carlos emerge from the bathroom only seconds later.

“Hey, Jannik. Are you ok? Who is this?” Jannik could swear he had never been happier to hear his boyfriend’s voice than right now.

“This is Sofia. You know. My ex. I told you about her.”

Carlos immediately knew who Jannik was talking about, and it was obvious by the way his eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to Jannik.

“Ah. What were you guys talking about,” he asked with his voice being cold as ice.

“I just asked Jannik if he was here to watch this tennis thingy. He had always wanted to play professionally but it obviously didn’t work out,” the blonde said with the sweetest voice that made Carlos cringe internally.

“Oh. What… what makes you think he didn’t become a professional tennis player,” Carlos asked coldly.

“Well, he obviously wouldn’t be sitting here eating ice cream. He would be playing or training. And why do you even care,” Sofia started asking as she realized Carlos didn’t like her at all.

“Interesting. As far as I know Jannik is currently the best ranked tennis player in the world,” the Spaniard started as he stepped even closer to Jannik who was now practically curled up on his chair, obviously feeling uncomfortable and trapped in the situation. “This is actually our first day off since I don’t even know how long. Not even a month ago he won six million dollars. This year he won two grand slams. And you really say he didn’t manage to become a professional tennis player? Maybe google him some time. You’ll see how wrong you were.”

The blonde woman just looked at him with her piercing blue eyes.

“How the fuck dare you talk to me like that-“ But she couldn’t say anymore as Carlos immediately stopped her.

“Because I was really looking forward to spend the time with my amazing boyfriend and we actually enjoyed it until you appeared here with your unqualified comments. So, I’ll ask you nicely to piss off and let us enjoy our day of, ok? Gracias.”

For a moment Sofia looked stunned before she gasped.

“Boyfriend?!” She shook her head before she simply turned around to run out of the café.

Carlos turned to his boyfriend who was sitting on the small chair with his legs pulled to his chest.

“I am sorry, amor. Are you ok? I shouldn’t have been so loud, sorry.” The younger man reached out to brush his hand through Jannik’s curls.

He knew that Jannik hasn’t had the easiest childhood with everyone making fun of his dreams and he also knew how it affected Jannik how he was now.

“It’s okay. Let’s just go back to the hotel,” Jannik whispered.

The redhead stood up and his boyfriend led him out of the ice café so they could soon be back in their hotel room.

When they finally arrived there, Carlos pulled Jannik with him to the bed where he tucked the redhead in a thick blanket.

“Just relax a bit. Do you need anything? Do you wanna talk about it,” the Spaniard asked.

“Just you. I wanna have a hug. Please, Carlitos.” Jannik still didn’t speak louder than in a whisper and Carlos immediately sat down next to Jannik in bed and hugged him tightly.

The Italian buried his face in Carlos’ chest as he took a deep breath, the smell of his boyfriend’s hoodie calming him a bit.

“You are amazing, Jannik. Never let anyone tell you something else. I am so proud of you, mi amor.”  

[glittergutts]

I possibly fucked up a ligament in my hip and it's been bad timing because I just got feeling good enough to exercise. It actually hurts less when I'm standing or hula hooping than when I'm sitting in my bed. Ice has been helpful but I can only take Tylenol and no ibuprofen because of my stomach ulcer. I don't know why I developed all these stupid health problems so quickly I swear other than the fibromyalgia pains I'm pretty fucking healthy or at least I thought.

But yea, I got new hula hoops for my birthday, and they finally showed up last week, so me and the kids have been really enjoying them. The weather has been strangely perfect recently for November but I'll take it. It's one of my fall/winter goals to get outside and enjoy every even remotely nice weather day.

I've been off the seroquil a month and all other phych meds for about 4. The color is really coming back in the world. I keep finding myself looking up the sky and smiling at just how beautiful life has been and the way the stars and birds in the sky are really speaking to me in a way I maybe haven't ever felt. I feel like I'm coming out of a hibernation. I have so much more energy to do life and play with my kids and get stuff done. I've had a lot of small wins recently being able to accomplish goals and new projects around the house.

It's taken years of fighting depression and addiction and trying to recover to get to this place of peace I've found for me and my family. I'm feeling overwhelmingly positive about life in the next year+ and all the amazing things that will come my way if I keep putting in the work every day. I'm proud of myself for learning how to show up for myself instead of just for other people. Even in silly snall ways like washing the dishes and preparing the coffee pot the night before feels like showing up fir myself because I can make myself do it most everyday even when I feel like shit and it's improved the absolute fuck out of my morning to wake up to coffee and a clean kitchen.

For the first time in my whole life, I'm excited about the winter. The seasonal depression used to wreck me, but since getting a dog, it hasn't been bad. I can feel myself coming back to life and really enjoying the little things everyday.

[vitruvianphysiocenter]

Effective Tennis Elbow Treatment Options

The pain can be sharp and debilitating, making even simple tasks like gripping a cup or shaking hands uncomfortable. Tennis elbow, a common condition affecting the outer portion of the elbow, can significantly disrupt your daily life and sideline you from your favorite activities. But fear not, fellow athletes and non-athletes alike – effective tennis elbow treatment options are available to help you regain control and get back to enjoying pain-free movement.

Understanding Tennis Elbow: Beyond the Racquet

While the name suggests a sports-related injury, tennis elbow (lateral epicondylitis) isn't exclusive to tennis players. Vitruvian Italian Physiotherapy Center, a leading physiotherapist in Dubai, clarifies, "Tennis elbow can affect anyone who performs repetitive motions that strain the tendons in the forearm, particularly those that connect to the elbow joint." These motions can include:

Painting

Carpentry

Using screwdrivers or other tools for extended periods

Typing excessively

The Culprit: Microscopic Tears and Inflammation

Tennis elbow occurs when repetitive motions cause tiny tears in the tendons that connect the forearm muscles to the bony bump on the outside of your elbow. Vitruvian Italian Physiotherapy Center explains, "The body tries to heal these tears, leading to inflammation and pain in the elbow joint."

Symptoms of Tennis Elbow: Recognizing the Telltale Signs

If you experience any of the following symptoms, you might be dealing with tennis elbow:

Pain and tenderness on the outside of the elbow, especially when gripping or lifting objects

Weakness in the wrist and hand

Pain that worsens with activity and improves with rest

Difficulty shaking hands or performing other activities that require gripping

Seeking Help: Best Physiotherapist in Dubai for Tennis Elbow Treatment

Early diagnosis and treatment are crucial for a speedy recovery from tennis elbow. Here's why consulting a physiotherapist like Vitruvian Physiotherapy Center can be your winning move:

Accurate Diagnosis: A thorough evaluation, including physical examination and possibly imaging tests, can rule out other potential causes of elbow pain and confirm a tennis elbow diagnosis.

Personalized Treatment Plan: Vitruvian Physiotherapy Center will create a treatment plan tailored to your specific needs and severity of your condition. This plan might incorporate various Tennis Elbow Therapies like:

Rest: Reducing or modifying activities that aggravate the pain allows the tendons to heal.

Ice Therapy: Applying ice packs to the affected area for 15-20 minutes at a time, several times a day, can help reduce inflammation and pain.

Compression: Wearing a supportive elbow brace can help minimize strain on the tendons during certain activities.

Strengthening Exercises: Specific exercises designed to strengthen the forearm muscles and improve flexibility can enhance stability and prevent future injury.

Manual Therapy: Techniques like massage and mobilization can help improve blood flow to the area, promote healing, and reduce pain.

Ultrasound Therapy: This modality uses sound waves to reduce inflammation and promote tissue healing.

Guidance and Support: Vitruvian Physiotherapy Center will guide you through proper exercise techniques and provide ongoing support to ensure you're on the path to recovery.

Additional Considerations for Effective Tennis Elbow Treatment

Here are some additional tips to complement your Tennis Elbow Therapies:

Maintain good posture: Poor posture can put additional strain on the elbow joint.

Ergonomics: If your job involves repetitive motions, consider ergonomic modifications to your workstation to reduce stress on the elbow.

Pain Management: Over-the-counter pain relievers like ibuprofen can help manage pain and inflammation. However, consult your doctor before taking any medications.

Gradual Return to Activity: Don't rush back to strenuous activities too soon. Gradually increase the intensity and duration of your activities as your pain improves.

Preventing Tennis Elbow: A Proactive Approach

While tennis elbow can be effectively treated, prevention is always the best strategy. Here are some tips to help you avoid this condition:

Warm up before activities: Proper warm-up exercises increase blood flow to the muscles and prepare them for activity.

Maintain proper form: Ensure correct technique during any activity that involves repetitive motions.

Strengthen your forearms: Regularly performing exercises to strengthen the forearm muscles can help them better handle stress.

Listen to your body: Take breaks during prolonged activities and avoid pushing through pain.

[joie6000]

It was an absolutely fantastic weekend. First off, an XC meet where my aunt and uncle got to watch AB run. I legit never get to see my aunts and uncles anymore - they have moved all over the country and are busy with their kids and grandkids - so just to see them and say, “you have such good kids” over and over was nice.

Both kids ran really well. It was a beast of a course - so many hills and the last 150 to the chute was up a giant hill. Abby has been plagued by terrible plantar fasciitis for the past month so it’s been PT, icing, inserts, stretches, and ibuprofen for her. She lost her spot on varsity but seriously given her feet situation, we are just glad she was able to finish her races. She’s happy she was picked as the alternate for Sectionals because another run in distance spikes for her will just about do those feet in.

Ben’s been battling this past month with two other boys going back and forth on PRs. He stepped it up at the right time and was also picked as an alternate on a heavy 7th/8th grade Sectionals team. As a 5th grader, he is elated.

XC season is wrapping up and I’ll be sad when it’s over in a week+. It has to be the most supportive sport I’ve ever seen. Parents cheer for everyone. It’s not subjective as the runners with the best times run varsity. But also, everyone gets to run. The fact that even if you aren’t on varsity but you still get to run in the open race gives every single person a chance to compete and get better. It’s just a win/win all around.

[compo67]

For the kiss...TVC Sam/Dean, #31, please?

Thank you, dear!

#31. …after a small rejection.

Dean sits next to Sam on the couch. His knee has been bothering him all day and not a single Aleve, ibuprofen, or ice pack will touch the pain. He's been dependent on his cane all morning.

"Fuck this weather change," Dean grumbles, folding his arms over his chest. "I mean, would it kill Tom Skilling to predict decent weather for a change? Not this shit outside."

Sam, who was reading a book--borrowed from Mrs. Martinez, called Mexican Village--turns to Dean. "If you're sending him hate mail again, Dean..."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean waves Sam off. "He's lucky I ran out of stamps."

"He sure is."

"But you know... speaking of mail."

"I did not get it," Sam curtly replies. He picks up his book again. "It's your job."

Dean holds his arms out in front of him, motioning towards his knee. "How can I walk all the way down the driveway, out to the curb and back again, with the state I'm in? Have you no mercy? No sense of decency? I'm crippled."

Frowning, Sam looks at Dean. "That's not the word you're looking for. And walking's good exercise for your knee. You need to move around." He flips a page. "Anyway, you love chatting with Paul."

"Yeah, but Paul already passed by," Dean sighs, glancing out the window. "He put the red thingy down, see?"

"I see," Sam says, not bothering to look up from his book. "I'm still not going to go get it."

The front door opens without assistance and the mail floats in. Sam scoffs and grabs it from mid-air. "You get pissed at me when I do that with the laundry, Dean!"

"You don't have a bum knee, Sam!"

"I told you to put a heat pad on it and you went with an ice pack. I told you to do some of your PT exercises and you took a nap." Sam flips through the mail in a huff. "Then you wonder why your knee feels awful."

Dean rolls his eyes and bumps their shoulders together. "Just tell me it's here."

"Why should I do that?"

"Because I've been waiting for it forever!"

"You submitted it three weeks ago. That's hardly forever." Sam opens up what looks to be the water bill, which makes no sense because Dean swears he checked the paperless option last time he paid it online. "Don't pout."

"I'm not pouting," Dean growls. "I'm sulking."

The pain in his knee increases. If he didn't know it'd make Sam lecture him more about PT this and PT that, then he'd say something. He clenches his jaw and breathes through the pain. It rained yesterday, the temperature dropped, and the barometric pressure plummeted. Today, it's cloudy, cold, and the weather can't decide if it wants to rain again or not.

"Stop," Sam sighs. "It's here." He hands Dean an envelope.

"Yes!" Dean perks up and takes the envelope. He rips into it in a hurry and unfolds the paper inside. "Dear Mr. Winchester..." He looks at Sam with a smug smile and smacks the paper with the back of his hand. "Mister Winchester, would you look at that."

Sam shakes his head, but he smiles too, so it's a win.

Dean clears his throat and continues reading. "Dear Mr. Winchester. Thank you for your submission to Good Housekeeping. We sincerely appreciate your entry to our Annual Reader Chili Contest. Unfortunately, we regret to inform you that your submission did not qualify to continue on to the next round. We hope you continue cooking and that you enter future Good Housekeeping contests. Thank you for being a valued member of the Good Housekeeping family."

Well.

Silence floods the living room.

Until Sam calms the waters by placing his left hand over Dean's right and giving it a squeeze.

"Those things are rigged," Sam says with confidence and a tinge of anger. "They always are."

Dean frowns and takes a deep breath. The letter crumples in on itself and falls to the floor, where Dean kicks at it with his good leg. He had hoped--really hoped--to make it past the first round with his recipe. His chili has been the subject of praise all around Chicagoland. People know him because of his chili. Even Mrs. Martinez asked for the recipe.

And yet, Good Housekeeping just kicked him in the knee.

"Dean?"

Quietly, Dean replies, "Yeah, Sam."

"I think you should cancel your subscription."

"Yeah."

"And write a letter to the editor."

"Uh-huh."

"You can even write a letter to Tom Skilling about it."

That--now that gets a laugh out of him. "Sammy, you're being ridiculous."

"Well, ridiculous is my specialty." Sam puts his arm around Dean's shoulders. "I love your chili."

"I know you do," Dean admits. "I just... you know."

"I know."

"Can we order pizza tonight?"

"We can definitely order pizza tonight. We'll get an extra large meat lover's."

"Say that again."

"Say what again?"

"Extra large meat lover."

Sam shoves at Dean and tugs on his hair. "See if I ever try to comfort you again! Hmph!"

The pain in his knee isn't so bad anymore. It's definitely still there, but it's fading into the background. The Aleve must finally be kicking in. Or it has something to do with sitting next to Sam. A boneless, buzzing sensation fills Dean's senses. Yeah. Definitely Sam.

"Fuck, that feels good."

"Yeah?" Sam plays with Dean's hair. "I'm glad. Look at me."

Dean turns to his right to look at Sam--Sam with the softest eyes Dean's seen in a hot minute.

"Fuck Good Housekeeping," Sam murmurs, with conviction. He dips in and kisses Dean. "They can keep their awful chili recipes."

The second kiss turns into a heated, almost desperate third kiss, which preps the scene for a fourth kiss, which introduces the fifth. Dean counts to kiss number twenty before Sam distracts him--hand on Dean's thigh and slowly climbing up.

None of the Good Housekeeping winners get to make out with Sam.

And that's plenty for Dean to start smiling again.