#with nursing them and holding them and caring for them

[bratzforchris]

Goldfish

Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?

Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!

Word Count: Just over 2k

A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!

Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”,  “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort. 

Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits. 

The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face. 

“How are you feeling, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest. 

“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”

That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself. 

The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate. 

A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness. 

“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.

“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back. 

The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.

“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”

Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better. 

“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”

Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow. 

“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter. 

Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled. 

“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”

For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”

“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”

“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup. 

“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything. 

At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee. 

“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”

Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered. 

You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”

Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade. 

“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined. 

“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?” 

Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head. 

“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red. 

The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted. 

A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”

You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”

The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”

You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again. 

“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

[rougecreator1]

Requestion 😉 for Regina x Reader:

possessive!Regina where Gretchen tells her a rumour about Reader being reallyyy close to another girl in PE. Regina publicly claims Reader in the hallways, but when they get home Regina is insecure and starts crying, Reader reassures them that they’ve only got eyes for Regina

Bruising Kisses||

|| Regina George x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings: swearing, possessive Regina, insecure Regina, hinted at smut at the end but no actual details or anything

|| Summary: Gretchen tells Regina about a rumour where reader is close to another girl, Regina publicly claims reader in the hallway. When they get home, Regina's insecurities show and reader assures Regina they only have eyes for her. Lots of kisses.

Requests open!

Started: April 24th

Finished: April 25th

~~~

It was PE. Depending on the day, PE was Regina's least favourite class. She only enjoyed it when it was dodge ball and she could absolutely destroy everyone. Luckily for her, today was one of those days where Coach Carr took out the dodge balls.

Teams were made, Regina being Captain of one and some kid she didn't care enough about to name being the Captain of the other. On her team she had Gretchen, Cady and a bunch of other weirdos she picked because they didn't seem entirely awful. Karen didn't share PE with them, she had it with you in the following period. Otherwise Regina would have picked both of them too.

It was the middle of the game, Regina had already sent one person to the nurse's office and was about to send another there as she pulled back her ball when Gretchen suddenly appeared behind her.

"Regina! Emergency!" Gretchen whisper muttered, the blonde glanced at her in confusion and she motioned for Regina to follow.

Very. Very reluctantly Regina did, Gretchen made some excuse to Coach Carr about how she was getting her water bottle cause she left it in the locker room and the two left the gym.

When in the locker room, Gretchen looks at Regina. She was nervous because she knew she didn't have anything good to tell her.

Regina folded her arms across her chest, eyebrow raised as she watched Gretchen. "Well?"

"I heard a rumour that Y/N's gotten really close with a girl! Karen got from someone else that they were holding hands and being all over each other!" Gretchen rambled out, talking really quickly. Regina's eyes widened.

You were what?

Not if she had anything to say about it.

"Gretchen!" Regina snapped, getting her to stop her nervous ramble as Regina's eyes narrowed. "Who's the girl?"

"I don't know!"

"Find out." Regina was pissed, to say the least. She didn't want to doubt you, you'd been nothing but great to her. She hadn't expected you to go and do something like this. What about this girl was better than her? Her? Regina George? Regina went to her locker and got out her phone, texting you to meet her outside the gym after fifth period.

You had been in social studies when you got the text from Regina, glancing down at your phone.

meet outside the gym. after class.

You felt yourself tense. You could just tell through the way Regina had texted you that she was pissed off. Which was a horrifying thought to you. You and Regina have gotten in fights before and they are never pretty. How you're still alive after some of them you'll never know.

The rest of your class seemed to just drag on as your nervousness grew. Your best friend, Harley Banks, looked at you with a raised eyebrow when she noticed you fidgeting in your seat. She leaned over, resting her hand to your knee.

"Y/N?" Harley whispered, snapping you out of your anxiety for a very brief moment as you glanced at her.

"Huh?"

"You okay?" She asked, concerned for you. She was the friend Gretchen had heard the rumours about.

"Yeah-huh." You nodded, trying to seem like you were fine but you knew Harley knew you better than that. She sighed, but didn't push it since the two of you were in class.

After class, you went to where Regina had asked you to meet her. You saw her standing there, arms folded with an intense gaze in her eyes. Her eyes never leaving you for even a moment. People walked through the halls, glancing in the direction of the two of you. Most of them focusing more on Regina as whispers rang throughout the hall.

When you got close, Regina's hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you in for a rough kiss. Your eyes widened at the suddenness of it, but you melted into it. You figured that would be better than fighting her on it for doing something like this in public. Regina broke off the kiss after a long moment, her thumb trailing across her bottom lip as you stared into her eyes. Remaining silent.

"You're choosing some bitch over me?" Regina's eyes met yours. Your expression shifted to confusion.

"What?"

You had no idea what Regina was talking about. Choosing someone over her?

Regina noticed how genuinely confused you seemed to be, catching her off guard. She had a whole argument planned out... but you seemed to have no idea what she was talking about.

Harley walked over in the worst possible moment, arm draping around your shoulder as you glanced at her and then at Regina who looked beyond pissed. Then it clicked.

She was jealous of Harley.

"Harley, can you just give me a moment? I'll meet you in French, okay?" You said, taking her arm off you. Trying to prevent Regina from going off on the poor girl.

Harley tilted her head at you, then looked at Regina before looking back at you.

"Yeah, okay.." You could tell she was worried, just as she was about to walk away when Regina had grabbed you by your wrist.

Her grip was tight as she pulled you in close to her, her pull rough enough that you're surprised she didn't give you whiplash. Your bodies met and she kissed you again with a kiss so bruising you were sure it would leave some kind of mark. You were caught by surprise, but allowed her to do it and kissed her back.

When Regina broke off the kiss, you were completely breathless. She smirked at you then got the attention of everyone who had been walking through the hall at the time.

"Anyone who so much as touches them," She points at you, her gaze blazing. You could feel the tension in the halls." You can kiss whatever social life you have goodbye."

She was making damn sure the school knew you were hers. An action that made you blush.

Some people glanced at each other, others whispered. You didn't care.

The bell rang and you looked at Regina, who rolled her eyes but nodded and let go of you so you could go to your next class.

~~~

It was now well into the evening, you and Regina were watching a movie. Well not so much watching it as you were making out with each other. Since you had gotten to her place, she hadn't taken her hands off you for even a second.

You broke off the kiss and started to get up, she grabbed you and pulled you back in. You looked at her with a soft gaze.

"I'm just going to the bathroom, Reggie." You whisper to her, she looks into your eyes and you can just tell something was wrong." Baby?"

You decided the bathroom could wait.

Regina clearly needed you.

She wrapped her arms around your lower waist, her grip possessive.

"I just-" She started to say something, but shook her head." Nevermind."

"No, don't do that. Tell me." You try to get the information out of her, she sighs and glances down.

"You wouldn't leave me, would you?" She asked. The question made you pause, blink and stare at her.

"Regina, no. I'd never." You whisper in assurance, your voice soft but firm so she knew you were serious. Your hand come up to touch her cheek and you felt as you leaned into it.

"Swear it." Her tone wasn't harsh, but it wasn't soft. It sounded almost trembly, like she was holding back tears.

You frowned at this," I swear to you, Regina."

She nods, but you could just tell she wasn't convinced. You adjusted yourself as you pulled her into your arms, laying back so she laid on top of you.

"What's going through your pretty mind, baby?" You asked, wanting to know exactly what had her feeling this way.

"Am I too much? What if you get sick of me?" She looked at you, tears formed in her eyes but she looked towards the ceiling and refused to let them fall.

"Regina?" This had you confused.

"I want to cry but my mascara was $48!" You really tried not to laugh, she glared at you when she heard that." It's not funny, Y/N!"

"No, I know. I'm sorry." You stifled your laugh as best as you could, you knew it wasn't funny. But it kind of was at the same time.

"I promise I won't ever be sick of you." You tell her, hoping she believes you. She looks at you and the tears fall as she sees your soft gaze.

"Damn it!" Regina groaned the moment she started crying, her mascara dripping down her face.

"You need to invest in some good waterproof mascara, baby." You grinned, she rolled her eyes and you pulled her closer. Giving the corner of her mouth a soft, comforting kiss.

She paused and narrowed her eyes at you," What was that?"

"What was what?" You looked at her in confusion. Something you seemed to do a lot.

"That kiss, give me a real one." She demanded, now you were rolling your eyes as you rested your hand to the back of her neck and pulled her in for a real, passionate kiss.

She kissed you back and when you broke it you looked down at the blonde that laid on you.

"Are you okay?" You asked, wanting to make sure she was doing okay now. Or better at the very least.

Regina nodded and sighed.

"Good. Now get off cause I really need to go piss," You nudged her off you, which earned you a glare.

You got up and headed to the bathroom, making a mental note to give Regina all your attention tonight. You were going to assure her you wouldn't leave. And damn did you know the best way to do that.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 11

Summary: You come down with a bad case of some type of sickness. You feel like death, but Cooper has always thought that the common cold made people dramatic.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings: none really? Fluff and kissing.

Masterlist

Cooper sighs quietly when he hears you sneeze for the upteenth time today. A rare storm had blown in a couple of days ago, and the two of you, plus Dusty, had gotten trapped in the pouring rain. The deathclaw, now eye level with you, had loved the water dripping down his hot scales, and even Cooper had tilted his face up toward the dark clouds. But you? You hated the rain and have been miserable ever since the storm.

"Coop. We gotta stop somewhere," you say, and even the ghoul has to admit that you do sounds like shit. He comes to a stop, and you stumble into him, having not been paying attention. Dusty makes some concerned grunts, but Cooper waves the beast away with a roll of his eyes.

"Baby girl, we still have three more miles 'fore we reach Goodsprings. We can rest when we get there," Cooper told her and curled an arm around your waist, casting his eyes away from the furious pout you sent him.

You sigh loudly, and the harsh breath sends you into a coughing fit when it tickles your throat. Cooper rubs your back as you hack and spit up some nasty mucas, a low groan escaping you as your body aches from whatever sickness that's taken hold of you.

The next three miles feel like hell, but the ghoul gets you to Goodsprings before you pass out in the desert. Dusty takes off to go hunt, and the two of you end up cooped up in one of the old houses on the edge of town. You shiver and clutch the thin blanket closer to your body, shaking from the chill that won't leave your bones.

Cooper eyes you, hip cocked, "Do you really feel that bad, Sugar?"

You glare at him from the middle of your blanket cocoon, "I feel like I'm dying."

He scoffs at you and closes the distance between the two of you and shrugs out of his ratty duster before he plops on the couch beside you. Cooper opens his arms and waits for you to scramble into them, his chin resting on top of your head and his arms curling tight around your blanket cocoon.

"Poor, pitiful girl," Cooper coos, and you pout at the teasing tone in his voice. It wasn't your fault that the ghoul couldn't get sick, and you could.

Over the next couple of days, Cooper does his best to take care of his poor trader. You moan and groan, a big achy mess, but you always make sure to tell your ghoul how much you appreciate him taking care of you.

"You're the best nurse ever, Coop," you rasp when he hands you a bottle of cooled purified water. The ghoul rolls his eyes at his sickly smoothskin and runs his fingers through your hair.

"Only for you, Darlin'," Cooper drawls and leans down to kiss you softly. You were a handful, but you were his handful.

[beeslibrarycorner]

Hiii!! I see ur taking request for cooper Lmaoo I love Coop too!! Could you maybe write what cooper is like after reader and him have their first baby (a girl preferably) and maybe a few months after!! Thank youuuu, I’d prefer prewar but if you wanna do headcannon style you can do prewar cooper and a world where ghouls can yk have little ones, all up to you!!

* Coop stays in the delivery room with you, he doesn’t care if that’s not what men of the time did. He wants to be in there to support you during this huge milestone.

* He sits right next to you and he doesn’t move, even when the doctors and nurses insist that the husband should not be in the room. He doesn’t budge.

* When the contractions start to get real bad he holds your hand talks you through them. He doesn’t care if it hurts with the way you’re squeezing his hand, he knows that’s this is his only purpose right now.

* When you do finally give birth, Cooper allows himself to breathe, your safe and the baby is safe too.

* Cooper is over the moon to find out that the baby is a girl. The doctors kept making comments about getting a son next time to cooper, he was not amused.

* When you finally get home from the hospital he’s there wherever you need him. He helps you with the healing process however he can.

* When the baby wakes up at night he’s there before you, he insists that you need the sleep.

* Cooper compared the first month of having his daughter home to being in the military (in a good way) he had time shifts to check in between his two special girls.

* Watching all the milestones is magical to him. Listening to her laugh and watching her sit up for the first time makes him so proud.

* Tummy time was not just a thing your daughter did. Cooper also participated during tummy time and he would play with the little blocks in front of your daughter.

* Cooper got a kick out of watching his daughter crawl around. Other parents would joke that once she learned to walk it would be the end of both your worlds. (Coop is not amused)

* Speaking of other parents, they kept making comments about how it’s a women’s job to care for the baby and it drives cooper up a wall. He’s always polite when he responds but he hates when people talk to him like he shouldn’t be in his daughter’s life as much as he is.

* When your daughter takes her first steps, cooper feels his heart stop beating for a second. The two of you are on the couch together while your daughter was crawling towards the coffee table. The two of you looked away from her for one second and when you both looked back she was standing with no support and waddling towards you.

* Cooper can’t wait to watch you grow up. He can’t wait to experience all the milestones and be the biggest support.

[dootznbootz]

that WHO in no longer u oh my GOD

YESSSS

Like, yeah, Odysseus is like "Yandere" (joking but also not) because kills all who even go near Penelope and Telemachus and he's very protective of them AND jealous.

But I think this "WHO?!" is also a desperate plea as to who is this dangerous man who is near his wife? A warlord? A conquerer? A man who would not even care about Penelope for who she is and mistreats her?

Because even in the Odyssey, Odysseus asks about Penelope to his mother.

Tell me of the wife I married. What are her thoughts and plans? Is she still there with our son, keeping watch on everything? Or has she been married                            to the finest of Achaeans?

(Book 11, Johnston)

There's not even much resentment in his question. There could be but Narrator does not say. The use of "the finest of Achaeans" almost is a "Did she at least marry the best man? Did she at least marry a GOOD man?"

In "No Longer You", when he hears of this dangerous man NEAR his wife, he is SCARED. It could be jealousy but I feel it's more of concern. As it is in the Odyssey.

"I understand if she would remarry, it pains me but I did tell her that when Telemachus finally grows his beard, she could. I will love her always but is she at least happy? Is she safe?"

And she's not safe. She's not happy. He is terrified.

Psst. The reason why My Odysseus takes a long time to grow his beard is because of that line. He's hoping that his son will take after him and take forever to grow a beard like he did (as he doesn't really have one even when he first leaves for Troy) because he would try forever to get home. Penelope even teases him that he still doesn't have one so that's a silly request and that's the point. "I will never stop trying to come back to you. He and I will likely remain beardless forever." (it's a little funky for him when he finally grows one by the end of Troy. He's thinking "...Shit. Telemachus, stay baby-faced for your dad please.")

ANYWAYS.

I mean we all know that these two are obsessed with each other in the Odyssey and in Epic. They are likeminded and are so integral to who they are. They mean everything to one another. I think Odysseus genuinely does want Penelope happy. As even in the Odyssey with him simply asking for another bed, shows how much he loves and respects her. He could've been like "get in it" even though she had rejected him at first but he LISTENS BECAUSE HE LOVES HER. Only breaking down into a sobbing mess when he believes she destroyed their bed.

"Heaven made you as you are, but for sheer obstinacy you put all the rest of your sex in the shade. No other wife could have steeled herself to keep so long out of the arms of a husband she had just got back after nineteen years of misadventure. Well, nurse, make a bed for me to sleep alone in. For my wife's heart is just about as hard as iron."

(Book 23, Rieu)

Please note that this is his attempt to insult her in a way and yet he still talks about her being from Heaven 👀 SIMP

But even though he's deeply hurt by her rejection (poor guy would've probably sobbed himself to sleep) He still asks for another bed. After sleeping on the floor and in the dirt since he's been on Ithaca, refusing beds unless it's his own marriage bed, he takes her 'no' because he values her happiness and comfort over his own. He takes a lesser bed so she can still sleep in their own luxurious one.

I mean we know how fucking awful the suitors are. Hold Them Down is a disturbing song. (as it should be. As they are not good men) He does not even know how bad these men are yet. If his future self could speak with his past self, he'd probably be like "Yeah, don't worry about the guy who kills a bunch of people, they had it coming. ;) " or something.

That "WHO?!" is a mix of jealousy AND fear.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The Injured List

Batter Up Chapter 4

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Joel's just a baseball player and his back is killing him, good thing he has you to take care of him. Warnings: smut, Joel gets injured and can barely move, you masturbate and Joel watches, cum swallowing, you ride Joel's fingers. Words: 3,500

Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

“And I don’t know folks, doesn’t look good for Joel Miller,” the announcer intones, but his words disappear, all you can focus on is the image on your screen. Tears begin to stream down your face as you watch Joel writhe in pain on the dirt. This can’t be happening, you’re literally packing your bag for the flight home to Texas in a few hours. He has the All Star Game in two days, and right now he’s sitting on the ground shaking his head and grimacing as his manager , teammates and trainer surround him, their faces all shrouded in concern. The shirt you were folding drops out of your hand as you walk closer to the television, as if being next to the broadcast will change the outcome. 

“Come on baby, come on,” you chant to yourself, nervously bouncing in place. You have nobody to talk to about your worry, except the man currently being helped up off the field by his trainer and coach. He looks pissed as he hobbles to the cart, you swallow hard realizing how angry and destroyed he looks. There goes the All Star Game, there goes his swan song of returning back to his hometown and old home field during what should be his final year of playing. 

Your heart shatters for him, for you, for his career. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you still pack you bag. You text Joel that’s you’re leaving now. 

“What a shame. Miller’s out…” Your dad texts you later that night. Little does he know you’re reading his text as you take the elevator up to Miller’s apartment. 

The sound of Joel’s keys in the lock startles you out of your daze, you jump from the couch, hopping over the ottoman to meet him at the door. 

He looks haggard and tired.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, his face looking less defeated at the sight of you. “You didn’t have to come here, m’sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize. I wanted to be here,” you delicately wrap your arms around his neck, rising up on your tip toes and giving him a kiss before grabbing his bag from his hands. “I couldn’t not be.” 

It’s the first time you’ve been together in over two weeks, this is absolutely not the scenario you were expecting. Usually the first time you see each other after long stretches of time your first stop is the bedroom, both of you excited to touch each other and get all of your long distance frustrations out in bed. Tonight, it’s different, the first stop is the bedroom, but the only thing on your mind is taking care of him.

“I appreciate it baby, you’re too good.”

“I know I am. Now, come on, I got the bed all set up for you.”

——

“Well, I better get used to this damn room for the next week,” he grumbles limping into his room.

“Good thing I already have the next week off so I can keep you company.”

“You can still go home, ya’ know?” Joel plunks down on the edge of his bed. "Don't want you missing the game and your family on account of me."

“And leave my injured boyfriend all alone? What am I a monster?” You kneel down in front of him, unlacing his shoes and pulling each one off. 

“No, just feel bad you have to give up your vacation to take care of me,” his voice is soft as he grabs your chin and pets your cheek. 

“Listen,” you climb up his legs, placing your hands on his thighs, “I get a week of you stuck in bed, that’s better than a beachfront villa in Tahiti. Plus, I refuse to let a nurse or anyone else help you get undressed and bathe.” You untie the ties of his joggers. “Now, let’s get you in bed and I’ll take care of you.” 

You hold out your hands to help him stand, he takes them and rises with your assistance, grimacing as his back moves. 

“Should we ice it, or is the heating pad good for now?”

“Heat’s fine,” he croaks. 

“You alright?”

“I’m fine, just really fuckin’ hurts.” 

“Here, I’ll help with your clothes, do you want sleep shorts and a shirt?” 

“No, just a pair of underwear’s fine.”

“Right,” you turn and head for his closet to grab a new pair. 

“Hold up, just… I’ll get it.”

“Why?” You turn around, shrugging your shoulders. “You can hardly move.”

“Just, don’t do any digging, okay?”

“…..Okay, I’ll grab the first pair I see then,” you angle your eyebrows at him.

“Thank you.”

“Mmhmm,” you say as you turn and walk into his closet.

“Damnit.” You hear him groan from the other room as you open his underwear drawer. 

“Don’t do anything I can help you with!” You shout grabbing the top pair of boxer briefs fighting the urge to look through the drawer. 

Joel Miller is always cool, always put together. You don’t think there’s ever been a day that he’s looked pathetic, up until today and the sight that greets you when you walk out of his closet.

“This sucks,” he miserably huffs, standing by the bed, his pants halfway down his legs, the hem of his shirt rumpled up around his chest. 

“Oh baby,” you giggle. “See, how could I leave you in this state?” 

You kiss his cheek and bend down in front of him, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. “Step out,” you instruct, looking to find he’s staring down at you, his eyes hooded, the same look he gives you in bed. “Don’t get any ideas Mr. Miller you can hardly move.” 

“Could probably move enough.”

“Bullshit, it’s not happening tonight Joel,” you stand. “Trust me, I want it too, but it’s not happening. Now, let’s get your shirt taken care of. Can you raise your hands for me?”

He nods and raises his arms, trying to disguise his frown.

You lift the hem of his shirt gently rolling it up his chest while trying to ignore the fact that he’s now almost fully naked in front of you. 

“You know,” he says as you slowly roll his shirt up his head and outstretched arms. “Just because I’m out of commission doesn’t mean you have to be.” 

“Joel,” you breathe out placing his shirt on your shoulders. “Stop.”

“I missed you— ’n your body, if I can’t have it, at least lemme look at it.” 

“We’ll see,” you bite your bottom lip, the angel on your shoulder is telling you the best thing for him to do right now is rest and sleep, the devil on your shoulder that looks like your handsome boyfriend is telling you to let him watch you get off. “Hate to say this now, but I have to take your underwear off.” 

You kneel down in front of him, thinking how stupid you are that you’re now face level with his crotch… and he’s already half hard. 

“Fuck, this sucks,” he tips his head back exasperating as you grab his waistband and begin to pull his boxer briefs down. 

“I know it does,” you whisper your mouth beginning to salivate as you expose his half hard cock, it feels like you’re unwrapping a forbidden present, "but I’m here to take care of you baby.”

“You can’t call me baby,” he sighs, “when you’re... down there.” 

Joel’s underwear pools at his feet, you stare straight forward at his half hard cock, your mouth dropping open at the sight. 

“I’m also going through things too,” you whisper as you tap on his legs so he can step out of the fabric at his feet. “I gotta put your underwear on.” 

“Mm,” Joel lifts a leg as you pull his underwear up, your hands forced to feel the skin of his legs, the hair is soft against your touch. 

“Christ, can feel your breaths against me, you gotta stop,” he whines. 

You hold your breath as you pull the black fabric up over his crotch, finally hiding the temptation. 

You stand back up, focusing on getting Joel ready for bed, the stick of your soaked underwear against your skin getting harder to ignore. 

You spread the heating pad out on his side of the bed, bending over to plug it into the socket behind his bedside table.

“You look so good bent over like that, hate my goddamn back,” he bitterly mutters.

“Can’t stop you, can I?” You chuckle. “I’m just glad you were able to shower at the ballpark.”

“I’m not,” he huffs out sitting on the edge of his bed gingerly twisting and lifting his legs up, resting his back against the wall of pillows you’ve placed against the headboard. 

“You good?” You hand him the remote control and the heating pad controller.

“Yeah, m’fine, thanks.”

“Need anything?” 

“No, just want to feel you in bed with me.”

“I know, just have a few things to do first.”

You gather Joel’s dirty clothes in your hand, depositing them in the hamper inside his closet. Your eyes glance over at his underwear drawer, why does he want you out of it? You know it’s not a ring, it’s too early, he knows that. It could just be nothing at all… you let the wonder escape your brain with a shake of your head. No need to worry about it right now.

You take your clothes off, sighing internally at how wet your underwear is with your arousal. 

“Where’s the sleep shirt you’ve been keeping for me?” You peek out of his closet.

“It’s already in my suitcase on the floor.”

You nod. “Thanks.”

“You naked in there?” 

You roll your eyes at his question. “Yes.”

“Lemme see.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you unzip his suitcase, finding the shirt folded right at the top, as if he couldn’t wait to give it to you as much as you couldn’t wait to receive it. 

“Please baby, it’s been a long fucking day and an even longer two weeks.” 

“Fine,” you walk out of his closet, the only piece of clothing is his shirt in your hands. Joel’s eyes darken as you walk over to the bed. “Happy?”

“Thank you,” his eyes roam your body. “Missed you pretty girl.”

“Missed you too,” you blush.

“Come lay next to me, it just hit me how little I’ve gotten to touch you.”

“I should probably get our phones from the living room, just in case."

“Please don’t, it’s all a bunch of texts and articles I don’t want to deal with right now, I just want to be with you right now.” 

The frustration in his voice makes you climb in bed and lay next to Joel, carefully placing your head on his chest. 

“This okay?”

“Of course it is. Wish I could wrap my arms around you and hold you close, fuck, you feel so good.” His hand comes up to your face, rubbing his thumb against your chin and lips. “God damnit, this really sucks.”

“I know, but I’m happy doing this too.” You grab his hand away from your face. “Can’t believe I never asked you, what does this mean?” You trace the three circles on Joel’s hand. 

“Had a bullseye board my dad used to use for hunting practice, would put it out in the field behind my house, my brother and I would spend hours trying to hit the ball off the tee and have it hit the target. Went ‘n got this the night after I won Rookie of the Year.”

“Cute,” you bring his hand up to kiss the tattoo. “I remember that banquet, I thought you were so hot. God, I thought that since I was eighteen maybe you’d talk to me because I was older. Ridiculous.”

“Dark blue dress, your hair was pulled back ’n you had a gold headband.”

You audibly gasp, dropping his hand out of yours, his palm thudding against his chest. 

“Yeah… yeah, that’s— wow, that’s what I was wearing.”

“I know, and I would’ve talked to you if your dad wasn’t the one signing my checks or holding my future in his hands. I remember talking to your mom, and you were right behind her, you looked so beautiful it was hard for me to pay attention to her.”

“I remember that, I loved listening to you talk. God, I can’t believe we’re here. Look at us now.”

“Look at us now,” his low chuckle vibrates against your head. “Speaking of looking, I’d really like to look at you.”

“You have been Joel.”

“No, I want to look at you, please, I’m gonna keep pulling the injured card, but let me watch you touch yourself.”

“Joel… I don’t think that’s doctor’s orders.” You want to touch yourself, you're so wet, just from being near him.

“Please, darling, it’ll make this day not totally suck.”

“Ugh, I can’t argue with that. Joel Miller wins again. Where do you want me?”

“At the foot in front of me, wanna see all of you.”

Your body thrums as you climb down his bed. You love how excited you are to touch your pussy for him, he adores your body, worships it. 

“Spread your legs for me, wide, want to see your pussy drool all over my sheets.” 

You sit up and face Joel, leaning back on an outstretched arm opening your thighs wide, your naked body lit by the soft glow of the lamp on Joel’s bedside table.

“Fuck baby girl, look at that, can see how wet you are, you’re absolutely fucking soaked.” 

You can see how his cock is hardening underneath his boxer briefs. It drives you even crazier. 

“Rub your pussy for me,” his eyes burn into yours, the timbre of his voice urging you forward.

Your hand snakes down your torso, dipping in between your folds, a moan leaves your lips feeling how wet you are, Joel groans as you begin to touch yourself. 

You do this all the time for him on FaceTime, but you’ve never done this in person, your leg draping over his, your arousal dripping onto his sheets. You love how you can see the way his eyebrows wrinkle as his big eyes dart from your eyes to your pussy and back. 

“That’s it baby, you look so fucking amazing.” 

You can’t believe your luck, both good and bad. Good luck that you’re close enough to watch Joel grow harder as he watches you fuck yourself. Bad luck that Joel can’t be the one fucking you. 

“Stick a finger in, lemme see it,” his hand dropping down to grip his bulge. “Not gonna do anything, pressure’s just helpin’ me.”

“You okay?” You ask, your finger paused at your entrance.

“Course I am sweetheart,” he smiles, “I’ll be just fine. This is good, real good. Stick it in for me.”

You raise your hips to meet your finger and begin pumping it in and out of you, your palm resting against your clit. You focus on Joel’s thick fingers forming around his sheathed hard cock, you stick another finger in to try to stretch yourself the way he stretches you.. It’s nothing compared to him.

“Greedy girl,” he growls, his fist tightening around his bulge. “Fuck, you’re so hot. Thank you for doing this for me.”

You want to give Joel a show, he deserves it. 

“Joel,” you whimper sticking a third finger in. “You always feel so good in me, love it when you fuck me.”

“Yeah?” He breathes. “Love how you squeeze me, you squeezin’ your fingers for me?” 

“Mmhmm,” you moan, your legs beginning to shake as you fuck yourself harder, your palm knocking against your clit. Your heavy breathing and the sound of your fingers shoving in and out of your hole growing louder and faster bringing yourself closer to your climax.

“That’s a good girl, missed you so much, missed that sweet pussy of yours. Can see you getting close, you close for me?” 

You nod as an idea pops into your head. You scoot yourself forward, your cunt now right in front of his free hand resting on his thigh. 

“Touch me, just, stick your fingers in, don’t move them, let me do the work?”

“Fuck. Yeah? Okay baby,” he sounds practically giddy at your suggestion. “How many?”

“Three, I need to feel you,” you order as you kneel on your knees hovering over his hand.

He nods, his face with a serious, determined expression as he sticks his fingers up for you. 

You lower your pussy on them. Fuck. His fingers are so fucking thick, opening your cunt even wider as you sit on them. Joel lets out a long, low groan as you bury his fingers inside of you. 

“Baby, oh god, you’re fucking soaked for me. Jesus, you feel so fucking silky and soft. Fuckin’ squeezing me so hard.”

You begin to rub circles around your clit, bringing your other hand to cup your breast as you begin to ride his hand. The feel of his skin against yours, the way his eyes bore into you as you slide your cunt up and down his thick digits, the guttural gasp he lets out as you squeeze his fingers tight chanting how much you wish his fingers were his cock edge you even closer.

His head thuds against the pillow as you grind harder against him, your wet dripping down against his knuckles. His hand still grips his cock, you place your hand on top of his, tracing the tattoo with a finger, the same circles you draw over your clit. He stares at his hand, his brows furrowing as he watches you trace the ink on his skin.

You move your hips on him as he stays still, he’s being so good to you, knowing you’ll worry about his back if he oversteps his boundaries. 

“Feel so good when you touch me,” he whispers, his hand clenching and unclenching around his length. “Just a fuckin’ finger on my hand and it’s driving me crazy.”

You love him so much, you know today has been hell for him, you’ll deal with that later, right now all you want to do is let him forget about everything using your naked body as a distraction.

You can feel your orgasm beginning to peak, your cunt clamping around his fingers. You’re close, so fucking close.

“Oh, babygirl, you’re going to cum aren’t you? Fuckin’ strangling me, wish it was my cock so bad. Let go for me, lemme feel it.”

It’s been so long since you’ve felt his touch and now your cunt is pulsing around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you stare open mouthed as you notice the dark spot on Joel’s underwear from his leaking cock. Your orgasm waves through you at sight, your slick gushing out soaking Joel’s fingers. You grab his cock and yank it out of his underwear as you rock through your climax, fuck your self imposed so-called “doctor’s orders” you want to touch him.

“Stay still, stay still,” you pant as you spread his precum all over his shaft, stroking him. 

His head nods ferociously, eyes widening as he bites his top lip, his hand curling into a fist resting atop his chest. 

“I know, I know,” you raise up off of his fingers, leaning forward to kiss him. “Cum for me Joel. Give me your cum,” you moan against his lips.

“Yes,” he chokes out.

“You’re being so good, laying so still, letting me do the work for you.” 

You stroke him faster, twisting the tip the way you know he likes it, he lets out a long groan, letting you know he’s there. You quickly clamber down the bed sealing your mouth over his cock. His body stays perfectly still, the only thing moving is his head nodding against the pillow and his cock throbbing as his seed shoots down your throat. You swallow all of it down, happy to be able to finally taste him.

“Thank you baby,” he whispers, “needed that. You’re so good to me.”

“You deserve it,” you smile wiping your mouth and pulling Joel’s underwear back up. “I know today wasn’t easy on you, but I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.” 

“I love you,” he sighs, his eyes already turning heavy with exhaustion.

“I love you too,” you lay down next to him, making sure to gently rest your head on his chest. 

“You’re so good at turning my bad days good. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

——

Joel falls asleep quickly. You sneak out of bed and softly pad out to the living room to grab your phones, remembering you need to set an alarm for his meds.

They sit on the coffee table, right where you left them.

Joel has too many missed texts. 

You have a few texts too, the most recent being from your mom.

Your stomach drops as you read it.

“Aren’t you flying in tonight? Why are you in Philadelphia? Please call.”

A/N: Hello, there is an awful lot of foreshadowing going on here.

[dwtdog]

Nursing Home AU, from the list of reverse tropes

DNF, ~1.7k words, fun little drabble as a break from finals :33

George’s walker catches on a stray piece of carpet and he grumbles, waving off the nearby nurse who turns her head toward him. He can handle this himself, thank you very much.

He straightens his back as he nears the door that he knows opens to the room just above his, all the complaints he’s built up in the weeks since his upstairs neighbors moved in at the tip of his tongue as he raises a fist to knock, grunting slightly at the way his shoulder creaks with the effort.

After three quick, hard knocks that he’s sure will be audible through whatever hearing impairment burdens the person behind the door, he studies the decorations with a careful eye. There are unframed pictures scattered across the door, some close to falling off the weak adhesives that secure them. George has to hold himself back from pressing them back down, telling himself that whoever is pictured in them probably deserves to have their treasured family pictures swept up by the night workers.

Because they’ve made George’s life a living hell.

He didn’t think his time in a nursing home could get any worse, until this neighbor moved in. It was like they had bricks attached to the bottoms of their shoes and frequently performed tap dancing routines, or like they had a particularly rambunctious pet elephant that traipsed around the place at all hours of the day.

George had done his best to be patient. He really had, but it’d been long enough. He’s dealing with this here, and now.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the door handle turns, and the solid wood slowly eases open towards him. He shuffles back to avoid being hit, because he doesn’t exactly trust them to be caring of his health now.

The deep frown that he’s been wearing since he was awoken that morning by thundering footsteps directly above his bed shifts to something softer when he sees the man opening the door.

The first thing George notices about him are the eyes- a golden yellow that he knows is really green, set in a kind face weathered with smile lines. The second thing George notices is that he does not, in fact, have bricks attached to his shoes, and that brings the frown right back to his face.

“Uh- Hello. How can I help you?” the man asks, and he sounds nice enough. George thinks it’s an elaborate front.

“Are you aware,” George starts, bringing his eyes up from the mans shoes. “That there are people living below you?”

He blinks. “It would be pretty weird if they didn’t, yeah?”

“So you are aware them,” George clears his throat, crossing his arms. “That you should consider that before stomping around up here like a bull with dementia?”

George almost finds it satisfying, to watch the way his expression goes from open and friendly to sour, the way his stance comes to mirror George’s, down to the crossed arms. 

“So it’s a sin for a man to walk around his own house now is it?” he says, and George finds it hard to take him seriously with the ridiculous hat covering silvery hair- it’s pointed at the corners, taking a shape similar to the ears of a cat. “Just turn down your hearing aids.”

“Don’t need them,” George says curtly, rubbing a finger over the skin of his left ring finger, a habit he hadn’t dropped since his divorce. It draws his eyes to the same place on the man across from him, and he notices that he wears no ring either. “And it is a sin if you’re disrupting my sleep.”

He looks ready to argue back, but his eyes dart down to the movement of George’s finger, and he seems to change his mind. “Listen if you want to debate the bible, the lady three doors down can go for hours. Let’s say, instead, you come in for a cup of hot chocolate. Get all your complaining out.”

George shifts on his feet, feeling his hip pop as he does, and it reminds him that sitting down sometime soon would be nice….

“Fine. But if there’s no vodka in that chocolate I’m stealing something.”

With a small smile that makes George’s heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in decades, the man steps aside, pushing the door all the way open. “I’m Dream, by the way. I don’t think you introduced yourself.”

“George,” he replies as he steps forward, struggling for a moment to lift his walker over the edge between the hall and Dream’s carpet. “Strange name.”

Dream laughs, and George is distracted from looking over every inch of his apartment when a small animal appears, walking with its tail held high. 

“You have a cat,” he observes, and Dream turns from where he’d been pouring milk to heat up. George sets his walker to the side as he ever so carefully crouches down to pet the thing, smiling to himself when it purrs.

“He likes you,” Dream says, and there’s a note of fondness in his voice. “That’s Spirit. He probably hates my stomping just as much as you do.”

“Oh, you’re a smart one then, aren’t you,” George coos, rubbing under the cats chin. He’s a big cat, with long orange fur and some spots of gray on his muzzle, and ridiculously long whiskers that tickle where they brush against George’s leg. “You ought to bite him more. Maybe piss on his bed,” George says in a faux whiper, leaning down as much as he can.

“Oh, so now you’re trying to turn my cat against me?” Dream says, and George nearly jumps from the sudden proximity. “Need a hand up?”

George huffs, glaring at the offered hand but taking it anyway, groaning loudly as he stands. “So you can walk quietly,” he grumbles, eyeing the distance between he kitchenette and his current position.

“Only when I want to” Dream says with a wink, and George really wishes he still had his own cane- a much better weapon. “Come here, sit down before I have to call someone to help you. God forbid that new one- what’s her name- Rosa, god forbid she shows up. She’d have you on the ambulance in a matter of minutes.”

George laughs, following as Dream leads him to a chair in the living area, acutely aware of their still connected hands. “She on this floor too? Sent my neighbor to hospice for a cough. Haven’t seen her since.”

As George lowers himself onto the chair, Dream still doesn’t let his hand go, and George can feel a blush, of all things, creeping up his neck and staining his face.

“You planning to hold my hand forever, or-” George suggests, just as the microwave beeps. “Don’t tell me you microwaved the milk.”

“How else would I do it?” Dream asks, pulling his hand back and turning back to his microwaved milk. “You want peppermint?”

“I want vodka. And I don’t know, on the stove, maybe?”

“Too much work,” Dream says cheerily, and George sighs, long and exaggerated. 

He looks around Dream’s living space as he waits, noting the various pictures with his seemingly excessively large family. It’s not the only thing he’s looking for, but he can’t help but notice the lack of any sort of spouse.

“Snooping around already?” Dream asks as he returns, two steaming mugs in his hands. “You could probably find my whole life’s story on these walls.”

George meets his eye as he hands a mug over, wrapping his easily chilled hands around it gratefully. Dream takes the chair opposite his, and watches as George takes his first sip. As much as he wants to hate whatever microwaved monstrosity is swirling in the mug, he has to admit that it tastes damn good.

“‘T’s good,” he says into the mug, not missing the way Dream’s face lights up at the admission. “Family recipe?”

“Nope, all mine,” Dream says with a grin. “Come on, I know you have questions. Hit me.”

George hums, making a show of thinking it over. The burning question feels too obvious, and too revealing. He’s only just met this man a few minutes ago, he shouldn’t be asking about his love life. And yet-

“No wife?” he asks bluntly, taking a big sip right after. 

Dream laughs, setting his own mug aside as he leans forward, planting his elbows on his knees. “Nope. Never settled down. Always felt like I was chasing something just out of reach, like I needed to wait until the perfect person came along. And now look at me,” he laughs again, this time sounding more forced. “Left in a home to die alone. Probably doesn’t help I only realized it wasn’t a wife I should have been looking for what, ten years ago?”

George leans back in his chair, studying Dream in a new light. “Trust me, men aren’t worth it either. My husband filed for divorce, what, 20 years back? Never even bothered to tell me why. One day there, the next, gone. Took everything too.”

“That why you ended up in Florida? Don’t meet many British people around here.”

“Wanted to die under the sun,” George says easily, the alcohol warming his veins. “London was too grey, too many memories. I always loved it here.”

They sit in silence for a bit after that, only broken by Spirit jumping up to George’s lap with a loud meow.

“So no kids?” George asks, easing one of Spirit’s big paws away from where it’s kneading at his shorts, claws digging into his skin.

“You’ve got the only one on your lap,” Dream says. “Well, grandkid, technically. His mom was mine too.”

George nods, tangling his fingers in the long fur. “You ever think about second chances?”

“I think I’m on third’s by now,” Dream chuckles, meeting George’s eyes curiously. “Why, you rethinking the way you introduced yourself?”

“In your dream’s,” George says with a grin. “But I wouldn’t mind coming over again- to tell you off, probably.”

“And to pet my cat. And drink my vodka.”

“That too,” George nods. “Might need to visit a lot, then.”

“Well,” Dream shifts in his seat, and he appears to be fighting off a smile. It still reaches his eyes, and George can’t help but think of the man he sees on the walls- happy, glowing. Hopeful. “Then I guess I’d have to let you in. As an apology for the stomping.”

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #1] Purple Starfuckers

warnings: alcohol, clubbing

soundtrack: bad decisions - bts, passionfruit - drake, promiscuous - nelly furtado & timbaland

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

"Don't think of it as a bad decision. Think of it as a lesson learned. Something to remember for next time."

The way Hoseok looks at you is borderline comical - face all scrunched up, mouth hanging ajar. He's scowling, but it isn't new. He's had a face like a slapped arse all evening. Kinda goes with the territory of a fresh break-up, mind you.

"You don't seriously believe that?" He scoffs, before swallowing his words down with the rum and coke that he's been nursing for the past fifteen minutes. It tastes like shit, and is far too strong - but he's the one who asked for a triple. No one else to blame

The bartender had raised his pierced brow, told Hoseok that he's "not allowed to do that" - but had offered to make him a double and pour a separate shot, instead. "What you do with that shot is up to you," the bartender had shrugged - and so Hoseok had poured it straight on in. 

You finish your own drink with a roll of your eyes and shake of your head. "What I believe is that she wasn't 'the one', Hobes. Was a lucky escape, if you ask me. She was fucking vile to me and Danbi."

"You guys just didn't get to know her proper-"

"Hobi, she wore white to Jungmi's wedding," Danbi interrupted. Truthfully, she could not have cared less for how badly Hoseok's ex had treated her - it was when she started behaving badly around other people, embarrassing them in the process, that she started to take offence. If there was one thing Danbi had, it was pride. "WHITE! Who does that?! Poor Jungmi. She's a better woman than me. I'd have fought that bitch on the spot, right in the aisle. Don't care if it's my wedding day, when bitches deserve a slap-"

"Dan," you laugh but try and get her to quiet down, knowing that Hoseok is still reeling from the break-up. As true as her words are, he doesn't need to hear them right now. Turning to Hoseok, you stroke up his shoulder tenderly, with a soft smile on your glossy lips. 

You didn't cover yourself head to toe in glitter just to sit in the smoking area of a shitty club all night. There's fun to be had.

"Look, Hobes, it sucks that things ended the way they did -" a screaming match over the price of asparagus in the middle of a supermarket, that was totally an argument about something more than that, but Hoseok is still in denial - "but not everything we lose is a loss. Okay? You've still got us."

Which is admittedly more than he deserves after how much of a shitbag he'd turned into during the relationship. He'd go days, weeks - hell - sometimes months, without getting back to you. You and Dan had been fine - you had each other after all - but it still sucked not having your third musketeer with you. 

"Now c'mon," you smile. "Get that drink down you, and get that pretty ass of yours on the floor. We both know you're dying for a good dance."

"I don't feel like it," he groans - but he downs his drink regardless, and is dancing to a noughties classic within five minutes. 

You think it's Nelly Furtado - it is - but you're so drunk that you can't really place it. It's the kind of song that everyone knows; the kind of song that gets everyone's hips moving just right. Bodies are hot and sweaty, the clammy dancefloor a pit of sin. To you, though, it feels like heaven at that moment. This is all you've wanted for months. You're holding Danbi's hands, Hoseok between the pair of you, unable to escape and not really wanting to, either. He's smiling, and it's the best thing you've seen all night. 

The lights of the club beam down on you, pinks and blues reflecting the satin dress you're wearing. It's short, barely covering your ass, and silver. Picked out especially for a night like this; when attention is welcome, but not necessarily encouraged. You think you look like a trophy. Maybe someone will be lucky enough to win you. Maybe not.

From the bar, Jeon Jeongguk thinks you look like a little disco ball. 

He's wiping a tumbler dry, fresh from the glass washer, making most of the lull in customers coming to the bar. There are only three of them behind it, and it always makes Friday shifts feel that little bit more hectic. 

Dionysus, a club just on the outskirts of the party district, is always busier on a Saturday, so he prefers Friday shifts. A relatively small club, it has only a single dancefloor and a bar area with a few seats. The back entrance leads to the smoking area, which is where he'd first noticed you coming from with your friends. There's nowhere to hide, really, in a club like this. If you're in Dionysus, everyone knows about it. 

Especially the bartenders. 

"What do we reckon," Yeonjun, the youngest of the crew, smirks at Jeongguk as he nods towards you and your friends. "They all going home together, or what?"

A little air squeaks through Jeongguk's lips as he purses them, trying to get a read on your little trio. The way you're moving your hips towards the dude in the middle certainly seems a little more than friendly. At least, if a girl he'd never met before was dancing with him like that, he'd take it as a good sign he was getting laid. 

What makes it interesting is the fact that there are two of you. You in silver, another girl in black. Both pretty. Both incredibly different, but both captivating nonetheless. Like a pair of shooting stars, he thinks, cracking through the crowd at a vibrancy that could blind. Is a little confused as to how the fuck you aren't being pestered by other guys - doesn't complain though. Makes for a clear line of vision.

It's nights like these which make Jeongguk wish he worked a normal job. He misses out on all the fun always being behind the bar, he thinks. Does also save him from making some bad decisions that he knows would surely haunt him. If anything, he should be thankful.

"Fuck knows," he simply says, closing the glasswasher and whipping the towel over his shoulder. "10,000 won says he's going home alone."

Yeonjun smirks. "You're on."

It's less of a bet for Jeongguk. More of a manifestation. He likes watching you dance. Doesn't like the thought of you dancing with the dude by yourself. Doesn't like the idea of you leaving with him, either. Considers the fact that maybe you're not even interested in dudes, and that it's the girl you're holding hands with who you'll be leaving with instead. He's less intimidated by that - at least your disinterest in him would be preference based - but it's still not his favourite scenario.

It's not like he knows you, nor will he ever know you. He just likes to live in the what-ifs. They're always so much safer. Can't get rejected if you don't put yourself out there.

And so he carries on with work just like he should, serving the next punters who stumble to the bar. He pours them a water with their order, because lord knows they need it, and laughs when someone tries to pay for it thinking it's a vodka lemonade. 

"On the house," he shrugs, letting their drunk minds believe it really is a vodka lemonade. Easier that way. Will get them drinking water, at least, even if just for a sip or so before they clock on.

You're laughing, a little out of breath and not entirely steady on your feet, as you head to the bar. 

He'd been so busy with the last customers that he didn't even notice until he saw you using the bar to help steady yourself. You aren't looking in his direction, but up at the row of spirits behind him, trying to sus out what you fancy. 

Your hair is dark, up in a ponytail with grown-out bangs framing your face. The makeup you've been wearing has faded, melted off from the heat of the club, but the glitter remains. You really do look like a disco ball, he thinks. It makes him smile.

"Hey, sorry," you beam towards him, eyes just as sparkling at the glitter dusted on your collarbones. He raises his brows, expression open, receptive, as he moves closer to the bar. "What's something that can get me fucked up but also tastes delicious?" 

Oh, how he loves a challenge. He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side. "What do you qualify as delicious?"

"No passionfruit," you say almost instantly. "So no pornstars." And then you gag a little, to emphasise just how much you hate passionfruit.

"No pornstars, noted," Jeongguk says as he pulls an imaginary pencil from behind his ear and pretends to jot it down on his palm. He looks back up at you, and doesn't bother fighting the way his teeth bite down on his bottom lip - why would he? You're giggling. He likes it. And he also knows you're probably drunk, so won't remember this interaction in the morning. 

"Well, I mean, none of the drinking variety," you grin, tongue in cheek. "If you happen to know any of the human variety, send them my way."

He almost chokes on his own spit. The shock in his eyes has you laughing again.

"I'm joking, you idiot."

Although you kind of totally aren't. You haven't been laid in a while. You'll take anything with a pulse who is interested at this point. 

"I knew that," he bluffs, and looks back down at his palm as if he's reading again. "Okay, so no pornstars - pornstar martinis. What else?"

"Don't like orange juice."

"Do you like anything?"

You like lots of things. So many things that your brain can't think straight, actually.

You like the way a tattoo is peaking out of his shirt sleeve. You like dancing with your friends. Being drunk. His smile. The way he's joking with you. The knowledge that Hoseok is probably doing the robot as you speak. Sunsets. The chain around the neck of the man in front of you. Those cute tiny straws he puts in some of the cocktails. Him.  

But you narrow your eyes, and ignore your brain. "Alcohol." 

He narrows his eyes right back. Purses his lips. Looks down at his fake notepad, then back up at you. "I think I have just the thing for you."

Reaching for the plastic cups which you know are reserved for water, you almost look offended. Does he not think you have eyes? Are too drunk to know he's giving you water?

He places it in front of you and smiles, lips together, eyes round - but still challenging you.

"It's water," you tell him, and he nods. No denial.

"Uh-huh. Cleanse your palette first."

"Are we fine dining?"

"We aren't doing anything," he assures you. He's on the clock. "But everything tastes like shit after a smoke, so if you wanna enjoy it, have some water."

Your brows furrow together, head tilting and then you're self-conscious. "Do I smell like smoke?"

You'd doused yourself in perfume and had been chewing on gum to hide it, but apparently not well enough.

Jeongguk shakes his head, realising how much wider your eyes are. You don't seem as confident. You're not smiling anymore. 

"No, no," he says quickly and nods toward your clutch, which is propped open on the side of the bar. A packet of cigarettes are sticking out slightly, a lighter tucked into the side. "I just guessed - sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, no. You don't. Not at all."

You follow his gaze, and find yourself smiling. Small misunderstanding. That's all. But he seems just as panicked as you had been. It's sweet. 

"Fine," you elongate your response and let your eyes narrow again, to let him know you're ready to banter again. "I'll drink it - but whatever you're making better be good."

"If you hate it, it's on the house," he says, knowing that you won't hate it. He sets about making your drink as you sip on the water, not really watching him because you're trying to focus on not falling over. Water actually seems like a great idea. You're thankful for it. 

When Jeongguk returns to your spot by the bar, he can't stop blinking. The glass of water - an entire pint - is finished. You're smiling, lips a little wet, eyes a little hazy.

"Thirsty," you shrug. 

He checks your jaw to make sure it's not grinding, but it's perfectly still. Not a gram of MD - the drug of choice in Dionysus circles - in your system. You just really are thirsty - had been dancing all bloody night. He knows this, but he's naive to how hot it is down there. Hasn't actually been on the dancefloor himself in a while. Always working.

He accepts your defence, and holds up the shot in front of you. It's tiny, and pretty, all purple and shimmery. 

Jeongguk smiles. "Purple Starfucker."

The water you've just finished almost comes back up through your system. "Sorry?!"

"Purple Starfucker," Jeongguk simply repeats. "Amaretto, peach schnapps, a little curacao and cranberry juice. Fucking delicious."

You do love all of those. It's the ideal drink for you. You've never had it before, but you know it's gonna be good. He places it down in front of you, but that challenging look is still in your eye. 

He laughs a little. Can't figure you out. Has no idea what you're thinking. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," you grin, picking the shot glass up by the rim, raising it with a nod. "To Purple Starfuckers."

Jeongguk nods back. Toys with his lip piercing, the tip of his tongue peeking out ever so slightly before he bites down on his lip. "To Purple Starfuckers."

From his peripherals, Jeongguk can see Yeonjun leaning against the countertop at the back of the bar, watching him with a curious smirk.

Un-fucking-believable, Yeonjun thinks. Reckons Jeongguk is trying to fuck with the bet. Trying to lure Disco Ball away. He doesn't hear the conversation, but he can read your lips - 'Holy shit? That's fucking delicious? How much do I owe you?' - and watches the way Jeongguk shakes his head. Hands too. Shrugs. Bloody git is giving it to you on the house. 

10,000 won ain't that much, but Yeonjun doesn't like losing. "Oi, Disco Ball. Get your friends"- he nods towards Hoseok and Danbi. -"We'll make you a round."

He ignores the way Jeongguk's eyes burn into him, knowing that his shit-eating grin is enough to wind Jeongguk up. They love each other really, but in a way you'd love a sibling. Fully capable of hating one another, too. 

You glance up to Jeongguk, almost as if you're asking his permission. You kind of are. You trust him. He's been kind. This other bartender? He's a bit louder. Far brasher. And he'd called you Disco Ball? The fuck?

Jeongguk nods. Doesn't want you to leave, but equally knows the only reason you're looking at him like that - eyes all wide and innocent - is 'cause you're drunk. Doubts it would be the same if you were sober. When he comes to think of it, he'd rather you were with your friends. Safer that way. "Hurry. Before we get really busy."

And so you scurry off, running on the balls of your feet to avoid awkward heel mishaps. There's something endearing about it and it's almost enough to distract him from Yeonjun's taunts. 

"If he doesn't take her home, I will."

"She's fucked," Jeongguk tells him, voice stern, eyes still on you. Fucking around with punters isn't against the rules, but taking advantage of drunk girls? Yeah, not on his watch. Doesn't matter who it is. He's seen enough creeps and enough girls in tears because of them to know when to step in. "You're going nowhere near her."

"I clock off in an hour," Yeonjun reminds him. Jeongguk the one who's closing the bar tonight. "Plenty of time to play catch up."

Yeonjun - brilliant, blue-haired, and with enough boyish charm to seduce almost anyone - isn't a creep. He looks up to Jeongguk. Respects him. Follows his lead. Would never take advantage of a punter. He just likes winding Jeongguk up a little too much. 

Jeongguk ignores him. Doesn't put it past him. While Yeonjun likes to think he has values, Jeongguk knows he's just as horny and desperate as the rest of the fuckers in the bar. 

That's not to say Jeongguk is discounting himself from the generalisation - he just actually does have morals. To some degree, at least.

You're on the dancefloor for no more than thirty seconds, dragging Hoseok and Danbi with you to the bar. They complain and moan - "but I love that song!" - though as soon as they're faced with a tray of shots, their moods shoot up. You go to pay Jeongguk, but he shakes his head.

"On the house."

"You're trying to get me drunk," you accuse with a knowing smile.

"You're already drunk," he smiles right back. It's not his goal. It's a fairly quiet night. If anything, this is entertainment. Not like there's much better for him to be doing. Not until his friends drop by later, at least. "I'm just a nice barman."

Part of you wants to protest. He's covered in tattoos - his hands, the ones peaking from his shirt at the wrist and the neck - and has more piercing in his ears than you do. There's a stud in his brow, and a ring on his lip. It's his eyes though, that you think scream danger the most. They're deep and they're dark, and you know better than to trust them.

And yet when he smiles like that, your tummy feels all fuzzy in the same way that your head does.

"Well thank you Mr Nice Barman," you nod and curtsey, because that somehow feels appropriate. 

"Jeongguk," he corrects, before knocking his head to the side and nodding towards the dancefloor. "Go enjoy your night, trouble."

Not too much, though, he thinks to himself, but watches as you bounce back to the dancefloor with your friends. 

The drinks were a small gesture, but one that he knows will have made a difference to their night. No skin off his back. He likes doing things like this. You're not the first, likely won't be the last - but he spends a lot longer than usual quietly observing you as you get on with your night. Doesn't notice the smile on his face.

Yeonjun does, though. Chooses not to say anything. Knows when to pick his battles.

Does warn him when he sees Jeongguk's friends bundle in through the door, though. "Watch out boss. Same as usual?"

Jeongguk nods, and Yeonjun sets about making a round of drinks for the usual suspects. Three malibu and cokes, one rum and lemonade and four purple starfuckers. Jeongguk'll make those. They're his signature. 

"Look what the cat dragged in," he grins towards his friends, all a little worse for wear. Bleary-eyed, they're smiling and joking, having come from dinner - which turned into drinks, and then more drinks and then - fuck it - clubs. Dionysus is always the final stop. They like the atmosphere; like the free drinks even more.

"You know us," Park Jimin grins at him in the sleazy way he so often does, which lets Jeongguk knows he's up to no good. "Where the pussy goes, we surely follow."

"Speak for yourself," Namjoon snorts beside him, a little more sober than the others. Taehyung and Yoongi are engaged in their own conversation - something about the Samsung Lions and baseball strategy that Jeongguk doesn't care much for. "Quiet night?"

"Fairly," Jeongguk nods - which can only mean one thing. Same thing it means every week. 

He'd always thought that by the time they hit their mid-twenties, they'd be over this lifestyle by now - but his friends like to make just as many bad decisions as he does.

"Round up boys," Jimin cheers, his voice booming above the bass of whatever noughties classic is on. "Purple Starkfucker time!"

Jeongguk laughs. Shakes his head, rolls his eyes. Unfolds his defensive arms. Glances up to the crowd - but you're lost to the night. Maybe not forever, but for now, at least. 

And so he just nods, and cheers along with them.

"Purple Starfucker time."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[mellowinfluencermiracle]

as someone who is currently badly injured, I would love to see Carlos and the drivers+WAG'd reactions to Baby! Sainz getting injured, like a broken bone

i love your writing so much!!! 💗💗

Hi love! I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope you'll be fine again soon. I hope you'll enjoy this little piece for you! 💕 My requests are always open and feedback is very much welcome. -XoXo

The broken arm

You know that moment when terror spreads through your whole body? The voices around you become muffled, and your heart hammers in your chest. You can’t get enough air into your lungs. For one millisecond, you think this is the end. Your hands start to shake, and your body heat seems to drain away. Carlos felt all of this right now. For that brief moment, the world stopped. Everything froze. His eyes remained glued to the floor, which stared right back at him. The color drained from his face. In that fleeting instant, Carlos wished the world would swallow him whole.

When he took his next breath, everything around him sprang back to life. He heard Kika and Alex crying, Oscar and Lewis arguing with the nurse, Lando fainting and falling, Charles taking deep, shuddering breaths, Carmen and George trying to console each other, Lily pacing the floor, Alex staring shell-shocked at the wall, Max rubbing his hands up and down Kelly’s leg, and Pierre cursing in French.

It was all too much. The only thing keeping Carlos from spiraling was Rebecca. She knelt down in front of him and took his face in her hands. “Hey, Carlos. Everything is okay. She’s alright. It’s just a broken arm.” Oh, how his heart broke.

No one would have thought that before 8 p.m., the hospital would be flooded with drivers and WAGs. Why? Because Amira Sainz accidentally slipped down the stairs. And boy, did that hurt. When she was on the floor again, she was surrounded by people. Before anyone could ask her anything, she started crying. That was all it took for the group, including Mamá and Papá Sainz, to rush to the hospital.

When the nurse emerged and informed them that his little sister had broken her arm, chaos erupted. The group’s loud reactions drew plenty of attention, but in their defense, the nurse had just shattered their hearts.

“It’s just a broken arm. She’ll be fine in 4 weeks.”

Four weeks! That couldn’t be right. While the atmosphere outside felt like the onset of an apocalypse, inside Amira’s room, it was surprisingly calm.

Mamá gently stroked Amira’s hair, while Papá held her hand (the uninjured one). “Estás bien, mi princesa. Eres tan valiente en este momento,” Mamá whispered sweetly in her ear. Reyes and Carlos Sr. knew how terrified their daughter was of hospitals, so they both did their best to reassure her.

The kind doctor addressed her."Señorita Amira, in four weeks, everything will be okay again. Just be careful not to get the cast wet.” Carlos Sr. thanked the doctor, and Reyes asked, “Are you ready to go, mi hija?” Amira nodded quickly, and with Papá’s assistance, she hopped down from the bed, still holding his hand. After all, she was his daughter.

As they returned to the entrance, they were met with a crowd of people. Over the next four weeks, Amira was treated like the little princess she truly was.

Carmen and George accompanied her on walks through the park. Charles and Alex visited with Baby Léo. Max shared some silly Red Bull rumors while Kelly gently painted her nails. Yuki prepared meals for her. Lewis pampered her with skincare routines. Alex and Lily joined her for movie nights, watching all her favorite films. Lando engaged in playful games with her. Kika and Pierre exchanged gossip. Oscar, Lily, and she went shopping together. They all did things for her, and she felt immense gratitude.

Yet, her most cherished moments were when Carlos and Rebecca were present. Her brother always cooked her favorite dishes, while Rebecca patiently braided her long hair. During those moments, everything felt calm. “Are you okay, darling?” Rebecca inquired. Amira glanced over her shoulder and quietly replied, “Yes.” Becca smiled, kissed her cheek, and resumed braiding, both of them engrossed in their show. As for Carlos, he relished seeing his two favorite girls bonding. But just as he settled into the scene, an odd smell reached his nose. When he turned around, he discovered the pizza had burned.

"Fuck…."

[pit-and-the-pen]

Spring Meadow

I have not been able to get soft Lucien out of my head all morning so heres a super fluffy fic about our boy being absolutely in love with you.

Lucien X Spring court!reader

Lucien deserves the absolute world, boy has been through enough. 

Warnings: None

WC: 1.6k

Lucien never regretted his decision to come to the spring court. The cruelty of the Autumn court gave way to something sweeter. Autumn always reminded him of death. He saw it in the trees that constantly shed their leaves, in the terror of everyone in the court. Worst of all, he saw it in his brothers. Fear seemed to permeate the air wherever you went and his family wore it the most. Cloaked in gripping fear of their own father. When he arrived in spring, it was like he could breathe for the first time in his life. Flowers bloomed and birds sang cheerful songs. The lords and ladies of the court would smile at each other as they passed. Spring reminded him that he wanted to be alive. 

Of course, he also had you. He had never intended to fall in love. Heart still in tatters over Jesminda, love was the last thing on his mind. But there you were. One of the ladies of Tamlins court. He found you in the meadow he frequently hid away in. Weaving flowers into a makeshift crown, basking in the first few hours of sunlight as it crested the horizon. The willow wisps seemed to sing a special song just for you. 

He can still feel the shock run through him, blinking hard as if he might wake up from a dream. Lucien decided that if it was a dream, he would happily never wake up. You startled as he cleared his throat. Hands pausing your work as he introduced himself. He swore he felt his heart stop dead when you smiled at him, giving him your name. 

That’s when it all started. It wasn’t an all consuming fire but a slow ember that he nursed into something roaring. You were patient with him as he figured out how to let his guard down. A comforting shoulder when days got too heavy for him to get out of bed. Those were days you would curl up next to him, hands deftly braiding his hair or reading him one of your favorite books. Those were the days that Lucien knew he was falling in love with you. 

Today was one of those days. You managed to pull him out of bed and the two of you stood in the kitchen. Flour streaked across your face as you kneaded the dough ball in front of you. Giving it a small smack, you put it in the bowl next to you and draped a wet towel over it. 

“There, I have an hour before I can bake it.” You washed off your hands and walked over to where Lucien sat on a stool at the counter. You patted his thighs and he parted them enough for you to squeeze yourself between them. With care, you wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the cheek. “What would you like to do today, Lu?” He wanted nothing more than to just crawl back into bed. Hold you in his arms until his thoughts could do anything but swirl around angrily in his head. But you had told him you wanted to get out of the house today so he instead said. 

“What about a picnic in the meadow?” He suggested. He wished he could bottle that look in your eyes, pure wonder and excitement. 

“Absolutely. Once the bread is done I’ll make us sandwiches. Oh and I’ll cut up some of that fruit from last night.” You chirped. He gave you another tight squeeze as you started gathering all the things you needed to bring. Lucien sat and stared at you. His heart squeezing in the best way possible. He pushed himself off the stool and went to your side, helping you pull out the fruit sent from the summer court. You instructed him on how to peel and chop the chosen fruit. His rough chunks were almost laughable in comparison to the shapes you cut into the fruit. He never understood how you made the various patterns you were able to cut them into, deftly cutting hearts and flowers. He helped you string them onto wooden skewers and squeezed the lemon juice on them so they wouldn’t brown, a trick you had taught him the last time you went on a picnic. You wrapped them up in a small towel and he went to grab your wicker basket from your room. 

Even your room made him smile. Organized chaos as you called it. Flowers covered as many surfaces as they could. You had used your powers to make honeysuckle creep up the walls, covering the wall by the window and swirling up to the ceiling. The white blooms fill the room with their sweet scent. He used to complain about the pollen dropping over everything but he learned to appreciate it over time. He even went as far as cleaning it up on days you were too busy to do it yourself. You always thanked him by peppering his face with small kisses when he did. 

He quickly located the basket he had been sent to find. He also grabbed one of your favorite blankets and the book you had been slowly reading to him. Both of you could have easily finished it on your own by now but he loved listening to your voice as you read it out loud, your voice wrapping around the words brought the story to life. 

When he walked back into the kitchen, you were bent towards the oven, pushing in the bread pan. Standing back up, you adjusted the top to your flowy sundress and untied the now dirty apron from your waist. You smiled at him as he held up the basket like it was a trophy. He was rewarded by the peel of your laughter. He wanted to wrap himself in the sound so he did just that, practically sprinting across the kitchen to embrace you. Hugging you so tightly he lifted you off the ground. He was rewarded with another string of giggles and when he sat you back on your feet your cheeks had a glowing blush to them. You stretched up onto your tiptoes and kissed him passionately. 

He let out a surprised noise as your teeth found his lower lip. You smiled into the kiss as he swept you off your feet, placing you on the kitchen counter so he wouldn’t have to bend down. Your hands found their way to his hair and the two of you got lost in each other. Eventually, you both need to pull away for air. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath and he tried to ignore the way your tongue swept over your lips before he was tempted to forgo the picnic and drag you to bed for other reasons. 

He joined you, pulling himself up onto the counter. So close to you his thighs were pressed against yours. You picked up his hand and started drawing random patterns and swirls. The conversation flowed easily out of the two of you while you were waiting for the bread to finish baking. Its smell filled the room and made his stomach grumble. Luckily, before he could even think of making a joke about his stomach eating itself, the timer you had set dinged loudly. You grabbed a dish towel and pulled the perfect loaf from the oven. After letting it cool for a few minutes, you started assembling the sandwiches, cutting them into perfect triangles. Wrapping them in their own towel and adding them to the basket. You looked up at him, “All ready to go!” 

You all but pulled him to the meadow, a childlike sort of excitement as you babbled on about the newest gossip in the court. He didn’t really follow your words too much, too many names he didn’t recognize, but he held to every word you uttered. Savoring the sound of your voice. 

When you finally decided on a spot, he laid out the blanket on the dew covered grass. You sat crossed legged in the middle and started unpacking the basket. 

After the food was eaten, you laid down, arms holding your top half off the ground. Lucien placed his head on your thighs using you as his personal pillow and handed you the book before you could even reach for it. That action earned him a kiss to his forehead, your hair draping around him as you leaned down. You flipped to the page you had left off on the night before. 

Sitting out in this field, your free hand playing absentmindedly with his hair. Lucien knew that this was true happiness. Happiness that he had never felt before meeting you. Happiness he was terrified of losing but allowed himself to feel anyways. He would go to the ends of the earth to protect you and he knows you would do the same for him. His emotions suddenly welled up inside of his chest and he lifted his head off your lap. Your reading stopped as you went to ask him what was wrong, reading the tears in his eyes as something other than pure joy. He spoke before you could. 

“Can we stay like this forever.” He said, leaning closer into you. You kissed him, soft and gentle. 

“Of course my love.” You cuddled tighter to his side and pulled him into a deep kiss. He rolled you on top of him, and you pulled away to say, “We can stay like this for as long as you want.”

[spirk-trek]

imagine amanda watching how mothers on vulcan share a telepathic bond with their children and not being able to do this for spock

imagine how it would break her heart, how she might worry they'll never connect when she sees a mother touching her daughter's face or holding her son's hand with purpose, without words

imagine spock melding with her as soon as he's able, showing her he loves her because he can't say it, he'll never be able to say it

imagine her being so proud of her little boy for researching and teaching himself to meld with a non-telepath just for her, all for her

holding him after when he's so exhausted he goes boneless in her arms and she strokes his hair and thanks him

and he mumbles something about it being illogical to thank him before falling asleep and she holds his little hand and feels the tiniest sparks of love still there, so small she might've imagined them before he's snoring softly

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Do you think Kenny liked being a mom?

I DOOOOOO i’m being . extremely self indulgent when i say that tbh but 😭😭 it’s just a nice thought to me. i think he wanted to experience pregnancy just to feel what it’s like yk?? probably viewed it as an experiment. so i think that when he held yuji in his arms for the first time and felt that biological protective instinct … he was probably facsinated more than anything .

….. so honestly . idk if enjoy is the right word…. but i very much adore the idea of him being a proud mommy :33 bringing yuji to the park and watching him interact with the other children …. lulling him to sleep with a fairy tale ……. feeling him squeeze his pinkie and just silently pondering the sense of peace inside his heart . YK???? it’s just a tasty concept to me.

… but either way motherhood definitely had an impact on him considering his domain expansion is literally modelled after a buddhist womb realm 😭😭😭 he’s kinda crazy actually…….

[luckyemocode]

wait people know tsumiki was abusive to patients before being accepted into hpa/meeting junko right like thats 100% canon and the reason she went into nursing was because she enjoyed having people dependent on her and isnt above making them be dependent on her

[starpros-sunshine]

hiii pokemon enstars au???? please

soooo what're the eccentric's teams like? type based probably, rei natsume and wataru seem obvious

*cracks knuckles* okay so this one's gonna get long-

I think Rei would have a mostly dark type based team for the champions league (Absol is definetly in there and UHaFnir (the uh. the big noise bat one) and a Zobiris maybe and an Amigento maybe as well those kinda pokemon at least!!)

but as a trainer I think he switches it up a lot because he tends to pick up stray pokemon that are injured or anything of the sort and he nurses them back to health and by then they kinda just got attatched to him so now he has quite the lot of pokemon that are just chilling around and he switches his team up a lot because he doesn't want any of them to feel neglected

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As for Kanata, he gets all the Water type critters doesn't even matter which ones if it's a fish or a marine creature it is going into the team. he has an Aquana and a Wailord and a Lapras i think he would have a Lapras and he definetly has a shiny Garados , maybe also an Azumarill but that doesn't seem like a Kanata pokemon Oh or he could have an Octillery! But he's a water type trainer in the league and outside of it too!!

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Natsume is a psychic type trainer and he has a Hypno and a Simsala I think and a Psiana and maybe also a Silembrim Ohhhh and I want him to have a Palimpalim on his team!!

And outside of his obbligations as a member of the top 4 he wanders around and reads fortunes and does the stuff he does in normal enstars as well except he has some pokemon with him now <3

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So for Shu I wasn't actually all that sure because I wanted him to be an ice type trainer initially but then figured the ghost or fairy type would fit him better. So, this is something I Will not negotiate, he has a Banette and a Froslass, he has a Mimikyu (although I think that's more of a Mika pokemon) and a Skelabra and I could see him with a Floette and/or a galar-rapidash but I also want him to have the doll pokemon. And for some reason he has a Magearna. I don't make the rules he just has a Magearna. Magearna is a Shu pokemon.

Outside of the leage he, as well, probably just does all the stuff he does as usual in normal enstars as well but now he has some pokemon weaseling around in his atellier and sometimes he makes new costumes for his Mimikyu so Mimikyu can match with him and Madonee :)

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Now last but certainly not last the light of my life Wataru the belomved mwah *I am yet again being removed from the stage*

I actually could not decide what type I want for him and I still can't really put my finger maybe the flying type but I'm not fully sure on that one so now I'm just gonna ramble a bit. I think Wataru would have all the pokemon you could bring to one of the contests. He has a Milotic and and Altaria and ik this is a leeetle silly maybe but I really want him to have a Lunala (because they would OWN the moon aesthetic SO hard) and I want him to have a Blacephalon and an Hisui Zorua maybe because it can shapeshift and I think they'd be a really nice team but no so far I have yet to manage to find a type Wataru can train. but tbh I'm quite content with what I have for him so far hehe

outside of the league he'd probs be a performer in the pokemon contests that got introduced in gen 3 or something of the sort

[dirt-str1der]

I literally had a dream about reading the worst fan fiction like fucking ever kiryu was just randomly a yandere and nishiki was trying his best to survive also kiryu turned into a dragon (deez nuts) halfway and let nishiki kill him for being a bad boy but he was so upset about having to kill his bro that he just lay in the corpse for a bit and thats when i decided to stop reading and i literally opened tumblr in my dream to complain about how bad it was like the writing went back and forth from being terrible to incredible and i found myself enjoying some parts and despising others. I skipped the first few chapters so i had to tab back out and read the summary like why are they in a beach resort and the summary didnt just tell me nothing but it was also double spaced between each line and very fucking irritating and while reading it i kept thinking this is extremely ooc and boring like they would not fucking say that

[nazghoulz]

Do you ever read something you wrote and go, “hey. Wait a minute. This actually rules and might be my favorite thing I’ve ever written” but it’s the rarepair smut oneshot set in your elaborate au that nobody who even likes the au read. Yeah.