#at least the peppermint tea is helping a little

[descriptionofaruby]

its crazy to think that not sleeping till like 530 am yesterday, waking up at 12, gooning for 2 hrs, and not eating til 3 (n perhaps upcoming period) is actually just the most likely cause for this. my digestive system is 3 clowns on a tricycle in cohorts with my reproductive system which has one leg tied to its arms and keeps tripping and falling over

[yoohyeon]

I broke my favorite mug and I was sad so my mom said to put it in my room and put things in it and I will do that thank you mom <3 cjbdjdbd

[lilyprettyremy]

The 'It Girl' Nighttime Routine:

Every chic woman knows that a captivating day starts the night before. This routine is all about luxurious self-care – because waking up as the most poised, radiant version of yourself is a lifestyle. Ready to transform your evening into an elegant ritual? Let’s step into your new, elevated bedtime routine.

Create an Atmosphere: Begin by setting a serene mood. Dim the lights, light a sophisticated candle (think notes of sandalwood or bergamot), and play a calming jazz playlist. This is your time to unwind and transition into a world of serenity.

Sophisticated Cleansing: Start with a cleansing oil to melt away makeup and daily grime. Rinse it off, then follow with a gentle, hydrating cleanser. This double cleanse is like a reset button, leaving your skin ready for its nighttime restoration.

The Hydration Layer: Pat on a luxurious serum – hyaluronic acid, vitamin C, or a skin-renewing elixir. Then, apply a rich night cream. Imagine each layer as a silk robe for your skin, nurturing and hydrating it while you sleep.

Elevated Facial Massage: Use a jade roller or gua sha to massage in your serum. Not only is this relaxing, but it boosts circulation and helps define your natural contours. It’s a moment of quiet elegance – a way to remind yourself of your own grace.

Silk Essentials: Swap your pillowcase for silk. It’s gentle on your skin and hair, reducing friction while you sleep. A chic woman wakes up with smooth skin and effortless hair – because beauty is in the details.

Hair Ritual: Before bed, brush your hair and apply a touch of light hair oil to the ends. Twist it into a low bun or a loose braid for natural waves. It’s a simple yet sophisticated way to keep your hair looking polished in the morning.

The Nightcap: Pour yourself a cup of herbal tea – chamomile, peppermint, or lavender. Sip slowly, feeling the warmth relax your body. A classy woman indulges in these small, soothing rituals to unwind and replenish.

Outfit Planning: Select tomorrow's outfit with intention. Choose pieces that make you feel confident and chic, whether it’s a tailored blazer or that perfect little black dress. Lay everything out: jewelry, shoes, and bag – so your morning flows seamlessly.

Screen Detox: Put your phone on “Do Not Disturb” mode at least 30 minutes before bed. In this quiet time, you’re choosing presence and grace over endless scrolling.

Read Something Timeless: Replace your screen with a classic book or an inspiring magazine. This is how chic women nurture their minds and escape into elegance before drifting off.

Visualize Tomorrow: As you close your eyes, picture yourself waking up refreshed, glowing, and composed. See yourself moving through the day with grace and poise. You’re setting the stage for a day where everything aligns effortlessly.

This is more than a nighttime routine; it’s a ritual of self-respect and refinement. Wake up to your fullest potential, feeling radiant, empowered, and impeccably put-together. Sweet dreams, darling – tomorrow, the world is your runway.

[inkedinshadows]

Tea, Cookies, and Love

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Azriel takes care of his mate while she's on her period.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.3k

@azrielappreciationweek

You hated being on your period.

Even after years, it was still hard to deal with the cramps and pain, so strong that most days you couldn’t even get out of bed. Instead, you curled up under the warm sheets, clutching a hot water bottle tightly over your aching tummy. It didn’t help much with the pain, but you liked the comfort it brought.

The door opened silently, and Azriel slipped inside. He had a steaming mug in one hand and a small plate with chocolate cookies in the other. “I made your tea, love,” he said quietly as you lifted your head from the pillow. “I know it doesn’t do much, but it’s better than nothing.”

You just frowned, watching as he set the plate and mug on the nightstand. The smell of ginger and peppermint reached your nose, but you didn’t touch the tea. You would likely burn your tongue if you took a sip now.

“I thought you were going to Rita’s,” you murmured.

“The others did,” Azriel confirmed. As he sat down next to you, a few tendrils of darkness wove through your hair, drawing a small smile from you even as you clenched the muscles in your stomach at the stabbing pain.

You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to work through the next cramp before you could ask, “Why didn’t you go with them?”

Azriel lifted a brow, visibly trying to hold back a smile. “You're really asking that?”

Sitting a bit straighter in bed, you nodded weakly as you reached for the mug. Even if you couldn't drink it yet, you could still savor its warmth in your hands.

“I'm not leaving you alone and in pain while I’m out having fun,” he stated. His voice was soft, but it carried that underlying determination that told you he wasn’t going to change his mind.

Yet, as he stood up and began undressing, you still tried, blowing over the hot tea. “I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to go with them, you know.”

“I know,” he replied, pulling on some sweatpants and a shirt. He turned to you with a smile. “But I don’t want to.” He climbed into bed next to you, slipping under the blanket and wrapping you in his arms. “No, I want to stay here and take care of my beautiful mate.”

A new warmth spread through your body, one that had nothing to do with the mug or the hot water bottle. You actually removed the latter from your stomach to place it on the nightstand instead, so that you could snuggle closer to Azriel.

“Don’t you need that?” he murmured, letting you move around to find a comfortable position. You settled for curling up against his strong chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Not really,” you answered in a whisper. You finally took a sip of the tea, and its pleasant taste filled your mouth, warming your throat as you swallowed. Hopefully, it would soothe your aches, but you knew how unlikely that was. “It’s not that hot anymore.”

“Do you want me to go heat it up again?”

You looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips. You shook your head slightly. “No, it’s fine. I just want you here.”

“Then I’ll stay here.” Azriel pressed a kiss to your temple, then draped his wings around you. “Whatever you need, my love.”

You wanted to answer, but you grimaced instead as another cramp twisted your gut. It felt like being ripped apart from the inside, and you almost spilled the tea while trying to find a position that would bring you some relief. Azriel’s broad hand covered your lower stomach, gently massaging the area to offer what little comfort he could.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he whispered.

“Yeah, I hate feeling like this too,” you mumbled once the pain settled, at least for the moment. You drank some more tea, and your eyes took in the chocolate cookies he had brought you. “Are those Elain’s cookies?”

Azriel nodded, his hand still drawing soothing circles on your stomach. “She made them this morning. I thought you might want some before they're all gone.”

“Gods, I love you,” you breathed. You turned your head just enough for your lips to brush against his, but you didn't kiss him yet. “You just make it so easy.”

Azriel's lips curled into an amused smile. “I love you too, beautiful. But what is it that I make easy?”

You set the mug down, cupping his face with your now-free hands. “Loving you, Az.” You finally kissed him, pouring all your feelings and gratitude into the kiss and down the bond. “You make it very easy to love you.”

You chuckled as a faint blush crept up his neck. “Thank you,” he murmured, “but I don't do anything special.”

“He doesn't do anything special, he says,” you scoffed playfully. You gave his cheek a kiss, then reached for the mug again and took another warm sip.

Snuggling closer to him, you tucked your head under his chin and closed your eyes. Azriel held you tighter, cradling you against his body. As he opened his mouth to reply, you knew he was going to say that it was true and he didn't do anything special, so you beat him to it.

“For starters, you're here with me instead of out with our friends,” you pointed out. You didn't even open your eyes, instead simply listing all the reasons why he made you fall in love with him every day, all over again. “You made me tea even if I hadn't asked for it. You rub my aching belly. And you brought me Elain's cookies.”

“I just want to take care of you,” he said. His tone was soft, and he sounded as if he was defending himself and his choices. He really didn't see what was special about it. “And I know how much you like her cookies.”

You sighed quietly. You picked up a cookie, but even though you loved them, you didn't feel like eating anything right now. You'd save them for later, when the cramps would hopefully relent. So you offered it to him without a word.

Azriel took it, brows furrowed. “You want me to feed you?”

Your quiet chuckle was interrupted by a twinge of pain deep in your core, and you quickly disguised it by saying, “I want you to have it.”

He shook his head and handed the cookie back to you. “They're for you.”

“The others are for me. That one is for you.” You didn't even touch it, opting to simply sip from your mug again. “It's how bonds are accepted.”

“We accepted the bond years ago,” he mused. He didn't take a bite, instead waiting to see where you were going with this.

“I know.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye. He was beautiful, and he was yours. Your love and your home. Your mate. Just as you were his. You knew he considered himself lucky to be with you, but he never realized you were the lucky one.

“Every day, I am beyond grateful that the Mother blessed me with you as my mate,” you murmured. A sudden lump formed in your throat, and you weren't sure if the tears prickling your eyes were caused by the hormones or the depth of your feelings for him. “And I want you to eat that cookie. Because I want you to know that I would choose you in every life, no matter what.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment, but you could see the swirling emotions in his hazel eyes. The love and care, the vulnerability he showed only to you. He slowly lifted the cookie to his lips and took a small bite, his eyes never leaving yours, your ache momentarily forgotten.

“I would choose you in every life too,” he said softly. “I would find you, and I would love you. In every life, every world.”

When you kissed again, the bond between your souls glowed stronger and brighter.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[etherealyoungk]

new beginnings - jeon wonwoo

summary: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.

pairing: husband!wonwoo x fem!reader

themes: established relationship, terms of endearment, pregnancy, fluffy, comfort

warnings: reader is pregnant, mentions of nausea, throwing up, anxiety, vague mentions of intimate relations, cats

wordcount: 2.1 k

a/n: just a random idea i had and thought might be cute

you come home a bit later than usual, the smell of something delicious wafting in the air, welcoming you as you step inside your cozy home. you walk in and spot wonwoo in the kitchen, busy stirring something in a pot as you discard your bag on the couch, spotting oreo, wonwoo's cat curled up on the other end in a peaceful slumber.

you slowly make your way towards wonwoo. "hey", you say, as you stand next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "hi love", he responds immediatily as he presses a soft kiss to your temple as you nod. "long day?", he asks, taking in your tired expression as you nod your head.

"you're home early", you point out, as you hook your arm around his, watching him stir the pot of soup carefully so that the ingredients wouldn't stick to the bottom and burn.

"yeah, i wanted to surprise you", he says, looking at you. you smile at his words and he smiles back at you. you let go of his arm and busy yourself with setting up the table. you and wonwoo had sweet love story and were now living a happy married life, and you couldn't ask for anyone else to spend it with. wonwoo was just your person and you were his.

but wonwoo's cat on the other hand was another story. you could say that she didn't really have a thing for you. oreo had never bonded with you, and you were only allowed to give her the occasional pet before she'd walk off, uninterested in you. orea never got cuddly with you like she did with wonwoo. you were bummed at first but you decided that maybe she'd grow into you later it. but it looked like you were just going to be a side character to her.

wonwoo asks you about your day as you both eat, but he's also acutely aware of how little food you've served yourself and how you've barely touched the soup he made. "not hungry?", he prompts after a while. "i am, i'm just a little tired", you tell, feeling a bit bad because wonwoo had made your favorite soup and you barely felt like eating it. you force yourself to have at least a few spoonfuls of the spoon and finish up your rice.

it's two am and you wake up feeling nauseous so you sit up, hoping that would ease the feeling but it didn't. it was like wonwoo was so in tune with you that he could always tell when you're awake and you heard him stir beside you. "are you okay love?", he asks, his voice laced with sleep.

"just a little nauseous", you tell softly, feeling umcomfortable.

"should i make you some peppermint tea?", he asks, now sitting up beside you. he doesn't wait for your answer as he heads to the kitchen to make it for you regardless. he comes up and places the steaming mug of peppermint tea on your bedside table, as he sits down next to you. his hand finds yours as he laces his fingers in your hand, looking at you, worried. after a few sips of the tea, you feel slightly better and you're now cuddled in wonwoo's arms as you lay your head on his chest, his hands holding you safe from the world.

you feel the bed dip again as oreo, wonwoo's cat jumps on the bed, walking towards you both. you look at her, ready for her to go towards wonwoo but instead, she comes up to you and settles next to you. "baby are you seeing this", you tell, shocked. "looks like she's finally warming up to you", he jokes and it was like oreo understood and she meows as she looks at you before curling up beside you.

you fall asleep only to wake up an hour late as you rush into the bathroom and throw up, feeling horrible and absolutely terrible. you feel wonwoo's hand on your back a few moments later as he rubs it gently to help you. he then helps you up and you clean yourself up before he helps you back in bed.

that whole week, you battle with nausea, throwing up either in the morning or night, and feeling tired and fatigued all of a sudden. you try to brush it off, blaming it on the stress or just the flu, but wonwoo insists on going to the doctor to figure out what is going on.

you take a sick leave the next day and you're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when oreo comes up to you again, sitting on your stomach, giving you a little meow as she closes her eyes and goes into her meditation. you smile, feeling like you were being blessed by her presence lately. she'd started to get cuddly with you the past week and you were surprised but happy because otherwise you were going to think she was going to hate you forever.

you're aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you come across a video of a cat sitting on a lady, much like how oreo was sitting on you and as the video goes on, the lady explains how she found out she was pregnant because her cat started to get extra cuddly with her. your brain pauses and you glance at oreo, who's in a peaceful slumber on your stomach. you quickly open google, typing in if cats can tell if a person is pregnant and you gulp as you read articles and information that shows up and things slowly start adding up in your mind. this would explain all the nausea, the weird mood swings you've been having and the fatigue you've been experiencing the past two weeks. oh my god.

you gently move oreo off you, apologising to her as you grab a coat and slip on your shoes, heading to the nearest pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. you buy two to give yourself the benefit of the doubt and now you're in your bathroom as you wait for the results of pregnancy tests. you stand a few steps back, nervous to see the results.

sure, you and wonwoo had talked about having kids of your own and it was something you both did want. you both had also taken care and been careful whenever you were intimate with each other. but now as you stand in the bathroom all alone, a feeling of dread engulfs you and pools in your stomach. you move towards the countertop and look at yourself in the mirror. it was going to be okay you thought ou close your eyes and take a deep breath and you finally find the courage to look down at the pregnancy tests laid out in front of you. you blink down as you see two lines on them bioth and let out a shaky breath as you try to ground yourself.

you didn't tell wonwoo that evening, still trying to take everything in but mostly because you didn't know how to. you were unsure and scared. but when he comes home tonight, you can't seem to hold onto this secret anymore as it seems to be eating you alive. when he comes home later that evening, you're quick to greet him as he shrugs off his blazer, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. you give him a kiss as you ask him about his day. he walks into the bedroom to change and you follow him. "what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours", he asks as he loosens his tie and takes off his watch. "how do you know something is going on?", you ask. "because you only follow me around when you have something you want to get off your chest", he tells, coming towards you. you find it sweet that he's picked up on his piece of information and observed, he knew you too well.

"okay fine, i do have something to tell you", you say finally as you move closer to wonwoo. you look up at him and he patiently waits for you to speak. but as you're looking at him and trying to find the right words and how to get them out, you find yourself getting overwhelmed with emotion all of a sudden and you're tearing up. your gaze flickers to the side of the room and down before you look back up but wonwoo is keen to pick up on his.

"what's wrong sweetheart?", he asks as you try with all your might to hold the tears in, trying to blink back your tears, but you can't and they flow down your cheeks and before you know it you're crying. wonwoo pulls you into his arms, his hand running up and down your back softly in an attempt to soothe you. "did something happen?", he asks, worried as his gaze softens.

you sniffle as you look at him, still in his arms. "no- i-i- don't know why i'm crying god i feel like an idiot", you tell as wonwoo cups your face, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "you're not", he assures you and he holds your gaze as he looks at you sweetly, not forcing you to say anything.

he gently moves you to the bedside and sits you down looking at you deeply, a hit of worry laced in his gaze. you'd been off this entire week and he was worried.

"are you okay?", he asks again, gently as he looks at you, his hand intertwined in yours.

"i-im pregnant", you finally tell softly and in the quiet room it was like your words echoed in the air. wonwoo blinks at you and you can see the wave of emotion he goes through.

"i took a pregnancy test, two in fact and they both came back positive", you add, looking at wonwoo to see his reaction.

"you're pregnant", he repeats like he was testing how the words would sound on his lips. "we're pregnant", he says again and you nod.

"i'm pregnant", you tell, tearing up again. "we're pregnant", you say again.

you find yourself tearing up again and wonwoo cups your cheek. "but what if i'm not ready, i'm scared", you add softly and wonwoo is quick to embrace you in another hug.

"i think, no i know that you're going to be a great mother love", he tells. "and remember, you're not alone in this, i'm right here and i'll be here with you every step of the way", he adds as he hugs you tighter.

you pull away, looking at him and you smile. "i love you", you say. " i love you more", he says, making you smile.

"i can't believe we're going to be parents", he says in a soft excitement as he kisses your forehead.

"you know, oreo was the first one to know", you say and he furrows his brows in confusion.

"what do you mean?", he asks, his hands resting on waist. "that's why she's been so clingy and cuddly to me these last two weeks. she knew i was pregnant, cats can sense it", you explain and his interest is piqued by this piece of information. "should we make a bet on if oreo's going to befriend our kid or not", he says and you snort, chuckling at his suggestion. god how you loved him and his silly antics. "i'm gonna bet she will befriend him, she already has technically", you add before leaning in wonwoo's chest again.

-bonus scene-

you're laying on the couch, now six months along your pregnancy and your bump is growing healthily. wonwoo's been so sweet and supportive throughout it all, from helping you when you were puking your guts out from morning sickness to getting you all your pregnancy cravings even if they were weird.

you hear the door open, wonwoo walking in with takeaway from your favourite cafe because you were craving a red velvet cake. he triumphantly lifts the bag as he walks in, putting it down on the table as he sees oreo perched on your belly.

"i think out kid is going to be a cat lover", wonwoo says. "imagine if they're not", you add as wonwoo hands you the cake box and you take it, the sweet smell already filling the air. you take a bit and sigh, content and offer wonwoo a bite.

just then you feel the baby kick and oreo looks alert, wondering where the little movement came from as she looks around and looks at you with a questioning look. "baby, did you see that?", you ask. the baby kicks again and oreo looks around again and glances at your belly before meowing at you and you chuckle. "aww she felt the kick", you tell. wonwoo smiles as he looks at you, his heart overflowing with love as he thinks about how lucky he is and how grateful he is

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @blue-jisungs @wootify @idubiluv @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii drop an ask if you want to be added to my permanant taglist!

[alwaysmicado]

What you need

2.9k | 18+ NSFW | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 4

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, facesitting, unprotected p in v, creampie, pet names, Joel is the little spoon Summary: Joel is sick and your pussy's the best medicine. A/N: This one’s just cute! 🤍 After the next two parts or so, we’ll start to get into it for real. Fucking around is fun, but it doesn’t last forever, does it…

pt. 1 ・ pt. 2 ・ pt. 3 ・ series masterlist ・ AO3

You: How was the client? Joel: I stayed home, not feeling too well You: You need anything? Joel: Just you ;) You: I’ll be there in 30. Stay in bed! Joel: No no babe, it’s okay Missed Call Missed Call Missed Call Joel: You’re unbelievable

“Oh, come on,” you groan and lift the measuring cup towards Joel’s lips. “Why are you such a stubborn baby, huh? Just drink the fuck-”

You stop yourself when you see him raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his pale lips. He’s sitting in bed, his back supported by pillows, his head leaning against the wooden headboard panel.

Propping Joel up comfortably like this was a struggle in and of itself since this grown, successful man only sleeps with one, worn-out pillow he’s probably had since before you were born, so you also had to get two plumper ones from his couch to provide enough support for his poor back. What is it with him and refusing comfort? 

At least now you know what to get him for his birthday in September…

“Hmm, you love it,” he teases and puts his hand on your waist to pinch you lightly. 

“I would love it if you stopped fighting me and just took the damn NyQuil,” you counter and search his eyes. They’re heavy-lidded and glassy, revealing the exhaustion Joel’s been trying to fight all day.

You sigh and softly brush a strand of sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. He’s running a fever and the cool, damp washcloth you put on his forehead to alleviate at least some of his evident discomfort only did so much. 

At this point, you really just need him to listen to you for once, take the damn medicine and, most importantly, lie down and give his body the rest it so desperately needs.

You look at the collection of bottles on the nightstand next to him and shake your head. Since you didn’t know what his symptoms were before you came, you stopped at a pharmacy on your way over and bought everything : DayQuil, NyQuil, a bottle of cough syrup, peppermint tea, a bunch of pain meds, Epsom salts with eucalyptus and essential oils, fresh produce to make a smoothie - hell, even a thermometer because you weren’t sure if he has one.

The only thing missing is the patient’s cooperation. 

“I appreciate your care, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, reaching for your hand to pepper your palm with soft kisses, “but I really don’t need any of that. I’m just a bit under the weather, that’s all.” 

“You’d rather die than admit you’re sick, huh,” you state with a tilted head and raised eyebrows. 

“Now that’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it,” he murmurs and nibbles on your arm. 

“Says the grown man who gagged from the tiniest sip of green smoothie,” you scoff. 

“Yeah, well, that shit was disgusting,” he chuckles, pulling you closer by your waist so you’re straddling his lap. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

“You have a fever, Joel,” you sigh and cup his cheeks. “I’m worried, okay?” 

“About little old me?” He smiles and squeezes your hips. 

“Yeah,” you lean in to press soft kisses to his cheek. “And I need you to let me help you, so tell me what-”

“Sit on my face.” 

“Huh?” You sit back up and look into his eyes in surprise.  

“Take your slutty little pants off and sit on my face,” he repeats with a cocked eyebrow. 

“How is that-” 

“I’ll take the meds if you do,” he interrupts with a smirk, his eye crinkles giving away his genuine amusement at this genius suggestion.

You sigh deeply and look at the ceiling. How is this guy real? “And a whole smoothie,” you murmur as you get up. 

You push your shorts down together with your panties, let them fall to the floor, then climb back onto the bed to straddle Joel’s lap without the covers separating you this time. He looks at you hungrily, the fever completely forgotten as he sees and feels your naked cunt and thighs.

“Mmm, that’s it, baby,” he groans softly, his big hands on you immediately, gripping your ass and moving you up and down the length of his hardening cock. “Look at the mess you’re already making on me,” he murmurs, turned on by the wetness you’re spreading over his gray sweatpants. 

“You get off on caring for me, hm?” He taunts with a smug grin. 

“Oh, shut up,” you roll your eyes and capture his lips in a bruising kiss. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, as close as he possibly can, kissing you greedily. You writhe and wriggle on his lap, moaning into his mouth, your hands tangled in his hair.

He breaks the kiss to nibble and bite at the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks behind. You’re letting it slide this time, enjoying the tantalizing sensation of slight pain mixed with the soft touch of his lips and facial hair that’s causing your pussy to clench around nothing. 

You’re just going to have to wear a silk scarf or something to work.

“God, I wanna taste you so bad, baby,” Joel moans into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. You bite your lip and hum as the friction of your movements on Joel’s pants stimulates your clit perfectly.

“You gonna be good if I let you?” You purr into his ear with a roll of your hips, eliciting a soft whimper from him. 

“You come all over my face, angel, and I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispers, his fingers digging into your sides. 

“Alright, baby,” you coo and lift your weight off his lap. “Lie down for me.”

Joel scoots down and lays his head on the pillows, looking at you intently with big eyes. You position yourself over his face, hold on to the bed’s headboard panel and lower your hips carefully. 

“Look so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles before hooking his arms over your thighs and pulling you further down. His warm breath and facial hair tickle you as he kisses your lips softly, then drags his nose through your wet folds, inhaling your mesmerizing scent and nudging your swollen clit before repeating the movement. 

You throw your head back and moan softly as he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping at your dripping hole and pushing in ever so slightly before circling your clit. Your fingers tangle in his dark curls as the vibrations of his deep groans intensify every movement of his lips and tongue.

“Fuck, you taste divine like always,” Joel breathes as he dips his tongue into your wet heat to lap up as much of you as he can. You look down and clench around his tongue when you see his blown pupils and frenzied look. His mouth moves at a relentless pace, making you squirm and tug on his curls harder. You’re so close already. 

When your moans get louder and Joel feels you grinding your pussy on his face harder to chase your imminent high, he can’t resist biting the marks already adorning your skin. 

“Ow, fuck!” You cry out in surprise at the sudden pain shooting through you. You hadn’t even noticed the purple bruises on your inner thighs when you showered and got dressed today.

Maybe it should concern you that your body hasn’t been without bruises for a few months now. But it doesn’t, if you’re being honest with yourself. You just weren’t planning on showing someone else’s marks off to Joel this time. You really weren’t. 

“Fun night?” Joel asks with a smirk before sucking on your swollen clit hard, keeping you in place with his hands splayed over your ass.

“Can’t complain,” you bite back back, or at least try to, since your voice devolves into a soft whine at Joel’s harsh treatment of your sensitive bundle of nerves. The deliciously painful feeling is almost enough to send you over the edge. 

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” you moan as he starts lapping at your dripping hole again, his nose rubbing against your clit with every stroke. “Feels so good, baby.” 

Joel groans with each lick to your puffy folds and throbbing clit, hooking his arms over your legs again and digging his fingers into your skin. “Please, Joel,” you whine, tugging on his hair harder. 

“Use my face, angel,” he pants breathlessly, completely drunk on your pussy. You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen or tasted. “Take what you need from me.” 

He's bucking his hips, trying to get as much friction from his pants as possible, precum leaking out of this cock steadily. 

“I’m– oh fuck –I’m gonna come,” you moan, sliding your drenched pussy over Joel’s tongue and nose frantically. He hums blissfully, holding on to your thighs and watching your face as you arch your back and fall apart with a strangled moan. 

You come on his tongue, your hips stuttering and your whole body trembling from the intense orgasm. Joel groans as he eagerly drinks your cum and slowly licks you clean when he feels you come down again. You yelp and your hips jolt at the overstimulation when he sucks your pulsating clit into his mouth, savoring your taste. 

You lift your hips and look down at him, your chest heaving and a satisfied smile playing on your lips when you see his jaw and facial hair dripping with a mix of his saliva and your cum. He looks gorgeous like this. 

You swing your leg over Joel’s chest and lie down beside him. He turns to face you and gently traces your thigh with his warm hand, still breathing heavily. You scoot closer, so you’re flush with his body and place your bent leg between his. 

“Kiss me, Joel,” you purr as you nudge his wet nose with yours and caress his cheek with your palm. He gives you a smile before leaning in and capturing your swollen lips with his. You part your lips and allow his tongue to slip inside, feeding you your own cum. He grabs your ass to pull you closer against him, your bodies pressed together heatedly, both breathing heavily as you feel the thud of your combined heartbeat. Joel groans into your mouth softly as he rubs his throbbing cock against your hip, his hand traveling along your waist to your belly. You thrust your hips so your pussy rubs against his thigh on the bed, more than ready to come again. 

“So perfect,” Joel murmurs against your lips as he slides his hand under your shirt and palms your breast. He tweaks your hard nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. He furrows his brow and looks into your eyes intently, his pupils even bigger than before. Every fiber of his fevered body is aching for you, to be close to you, to become one with you, to be yours.

You see something shift in his face, but can’t put your finger on what it is, so you don't say anything. 

“Can I fuck you?” He mumbles into your neck where he’s kissing and biting at you sloppily, his hand still massaging your breast and his cock screaming for release. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You breathe, your need for Joel to be alright still trumping your primal need to get off. You're an animal, not an asshole. 

“I’m more than okay, darlin’,” he reassures you with a tired smile.

“And you’re not gonna die on me halfway through?” 

“Don’t care,” he murmurs and takes your hand to press it against his erection. You rub up and down his length slowly as he slides his hand between your legs. You groan when he circles your sensitive clit a few times before sliding two of his fingers into your warm cunt. He pumps them in and out a few times before adding a third, the heel of his palm putting delicious pressure on your clit. 

“You want me to ride you, baby?” You pant, feeling your second orgasm build already. 

“Can we-,” Joel breathes, his cock throbbing, “can we just stay like this?”

“Of course,” you nod and help him pull down his sweatpants. He pulls his fingers out of you and wets his cock with your slick before removing his pants fully. “C’mere,” you coo as you draw him close to you and drape your leg over his hip. He strokes his length a few times before nudging your entrance with his pulsating tip and sliding in in one smooth thrust. He wraps his arm around you, splaying his hand on your back under your shirt, moaning into your hair when he bottoms out.

“Oh shit, you feel too good, baby,” he groans and holds on to your ass cheek to pull you toward him in unison with his frantic thrusts. “I– fuck –I ain’t gonna last long,” he pants. “You want me to fill you up?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a needy moan, your brow furrowed. Joel’s cock is hitting your g-spot repeatedly, causing the muscles in your thighs and lower belly to tense and your climax to approach rapidly. 

“Tell me, baby,” he breathes, his cock massaging your inner walls with every snap of his hips. 

“I-I want you to come inside me, Joel,” you whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, please fill me up.” 

He can feel your walls tightening around him and your whole body tensing, so he tilts your head up by gripping the nape of your neck. “Look at me, baby,” he breathes and grinds his pelvis against your clit. It only takes a few more of his thrusts for the tension in your belly to snap with an intensity you’re never able to achieve on your own. Or with anyone else for that matter.

You come with his name on your lips, your walls spasming and contracting around his cock as you ride out your orgasm. Seeing and hearing and feeling you in such a state of ecstasy due to his touch pushes him over the edge, emptying himself deep inside of you with a breathless groan. He stays buried inside you as his cock pulses and your pussy swallows every last drop of his warm cum. 

You stay like that for a minute, limbs intertwined, skin hot and sweaty, breathing heavily, hearts pounding, looking at each other curiously. You slowly trace Joel’s eye crinkles with your fingertips, then gently run your fingers along his perfect nose before moving further down to gently touch the bare spot on his jaw where his facial hair never grows.

“What’re you doing,” he chuckles, drawing shapes on your ass and thigh with his fingertips. 

“Nothing,” you lie with a warm smile. “Just looking at the man who most definitely just gave me all of his germs and will most definitely come and clean my apartment when I’m lying in bed with a fever."

Joel rolls his eyes in mock offense and you giggle. “Told you to stay away when you showed up here,” he murmurs and slaps your ass playfully.     

“Oh, Joel,” you sigh, “you’ve come inside me so many times that our DNA is probably the same at this point.” You kiss his forehead. “I don’t care about a few germs if I get to ride your face and hear your cute little whimpers when you almost come in your pants like a teenager.”

Joel's cheeks flush with a mix of fever and embarrassment as he catches the hint of a grin on your face. “Stop it,” he grumbles, the corner of his lips twitching involuntarily. “You’re mean.” 

“And you’re impossible,” you chuckle, your hand reaching out gently to stroke his forehead and tousled hair in a soothing gesture. His eyelids flutter at your touch and a faint sigh escapes him, a small surrender to the tenderness you’re offering.

— “Thank you, darlin’,” Joel murmurs before setting down the glass on the nightstand and laying his head on the pillow mountain you’ve built for him. “I’m just gonna lie down for a bit.” 

“Alright, baby” you coo, walking over to your bag to retrieve your phone, then sitting on the bed beside him. You play a game for a few minutes, relaxing and monitoring Joel’s rhythmic breathing. He’s lying on his belly, his head turned away from you, his left knee pulled toward his chest. It’s the same exact pose you sleep in. 

In another life you might fall asleep like this together every night, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly, completing each other. You smile softly at the thought and reach out to stroke his back. 

“All your fault,” Joel grumbles into the pillows.

“Huh?” You ask, startled and confused. You thought he was fast asleep. 

“Haven’t seen you in over a week,” he mumbles. “Bad for my system.” 

You chuckle and plant a soft kiss on his temple. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Won’t happen again.”

“Just stay for a while,” he murmurs, his voice a mere whisper. You linger for a few seconds, studying his profile, before lying down behind him. He instinctively turns from his belly onto his side, so you can drape your arm over him.  

“You can sleep now, baby,” you whisper as you nestle against his back, molding your body to his contours, your warm breath ghosting the nape of his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

---

Thank you for reading! 🤍

part 3 || part 5 || series masterlist

[elexaria]

do you think you could write some poly!ghoap angst again 😔 maybe simon does NOT like the reader but keeps her around bc johnny adores her, and when he’s gone simon is just so mean to her :((

sincerely, that angsty anon 🩷

simon just glares right at you whenever you steal johnny’s attention, his knuckles white as he grips down on a tea towel while drying the dishes, hearing how you manage to make johnny crack up into peals of laughter. what a bitch, simon thinks to himself as his jaw tenses up. johnny wraps his arms around you, tugging you close to his broad frame with a beaming smile. “yer a riot, lass.” he teases, burying his stubbled face in the crook of your neck, which makes you giggle because it feels so nice in a weird way. “johnny, your beard—!” you choke out, giggling even more as he purposely begins to nuzzle his cheeks against your neck with a cheeky grin

and it gets simon’s blood boiling, absolutely red hot to the point where he huffs and walks out the room with a scowl. you frown slightly, feeling that tension— though johnny is completely oblivious to it, still guffawing as he tickles you with his beard.

later that night, you feel sick to your stomach hearing the bed springs creaking from simon and johnny’s room, the sound of heavy skin slapping and johnny’s whining reverberating through the walls of your tiny shared apartment. “you’re mine, johnny boy. you hear? all mine.” simon snarls, the palm of his hand striking against flesh loudly as johnny gasps and moans in agreement. it makes your chest cramp up, you just know simon is glaring right at the wall where your bed is, smirking with satisfaction as you’re forced to listen to simon take what’s his and there’s nothing you can do but accept it. can you fuck johnny as good as he can? you can make johnny giddy, but you don’t know him like simon does. and you better remember that.

johnny limps out the apartment the next morning to go to a doctors appointment, which simon drops him off at. when he comes back, he can’t help but scoff when he spots you in the kitchen, bags under your eyes. you sheepishly look up, eyebrows furrowing at simon before turning your attention back to making your breakfast. before you can even plate your food, he’s cornered you between two countertops, towering over you with a threatening look. one hand cements itself on the counter, barricading your only way out, whilst the other grips the collar of your tshirt— effortlessly dragging you up off of your feet.

“you hear all that last night, doll face?” he growls, barely inches away from your face. his breath is a mixture of tobacco and peppermint toothpaste, it’s deeply unsettling. at least johnny sucks on a mint after having a cig. you callously nod, breathing shakily as he chuckles. the sound alone sends a terrifying chill down your spine.

“good. know your place, yeah? you’ll never have johnny all to yourself. he’s mine, whether you like that or not.” simon snarls, punctuating each harsh word with a shove, using his grasp on your shirt to push you back against the countertop. your eyes well with tears, cheeks red and flushed with thick emotion.

“best not tell johnny about our little talk, don’t want to upset him.” he chuckles, slowly releasing his grasp on your shirt to lower you back down onto your feet. he smiles sadistically, lowering himself down so he can face you directly. the way his eyes bear into you makes your skin crawl. “you tell johnny about this, and i’ll get you. yeah?” he hums, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, scoffing as he pulls away and descends back out of the apartment to continue with his day— leaving you frightened and confused :(

[milunalupin]

REMUS GIRLIES UNITE!

first off congratulations on 100 followers ily

and can i request a remus blurb that's centered around like hopeless pining? maybe something like helpless stares and longing sighs?

Love your works

MWAH🌷

tulip my love so sorry for the wait and thank you so much for this request !! love you MUAH

— can't keep my eyes off you

remus lupin x reader ★ 1.5k words

Luck was almost never on Remus Lupin's side. He was a disgusting, ravenous werewolf for one. His scars were off putting, puffed skin stretching all over his face and body. He wasn't born into a wealthy family, and he wasn't promised a successful future.

But Remus did well in school, he'll give himself that at least. Maybe not top of the class, but enough to feel good about it. And he had the most incredible friends, always supporting him during his 'time of the month', and constantly trying to set him up with girls they thought were his type. They never were.

Finding love was never really his priority anyways, his mind focused on school and keeping his beastly secret. Aside from that, he never believed that someone would be able to fall in love with a poor, ugly half-blood with cycle issues. Unfortunately, the world decided the throw the most perfect girl his way at the start of third year.

"Gryffindor!"

Remus was caught in such a daze from your confidence walking up to the sorting hat and your almost familiar blinding grin once your house was announced that he didn't catch your name at first. He forced his eyes away and straightened his posture as you begun walking towards the red and gold embellished table.

"Who is that?"

"Seriously Moons? That's Y/N, I told you guys she was starting this year."

So why did you have to be his best friend's sister?

You were just like James in the sense that you were unbelievably kind, and the definition of loyal. He's surprised you weren't sorted in Hufflepuff with how hard-working and honest you were. But then again, it made sense for you to be in Gryffindor with your brother, you were one of the bravest people he knew, taking risks and always standing up for yourself and others.

Even though you were his best friend's sister, he really didn't get to see you much when you first started at Hogwarts. Unless you counted his shy glances during study sessions, or tipsy stares over Friday night butterbeers. The two of you didn't have any classes together, because that would mean the world was being good to Remus Lupin.

He doesn't really know when he first started to feel differently about you, but remembers feeling touched when you had begun purchasing his favorite tea. It wasn't just any tea; it was the exact same healing peppermint tea that he would drink around the full moon. How did you even notice that? You would even go as far as to bring it to his room in a warm mug, with a little too much sugar in it. But he would never bring it up to you as you could do no wrong in his eyes.

Fortunately while the other boys were trying to figure out if you knew his secret, he was grinning to himself behind closed maroon curtains. The boys cared about him, obviously. They had even been talking about becoming animagi to help him during his transformations. But to be seen by you, understood on another level that only you knew, caused a herd of hippogriffs to fly around in his stomach.

Finally, the winter holidays arrive and James had invited everyone to your house for Christmas. This was your favorite time of the year; James and your father were decorating the outside of the house while Sirius and yourself took care of the inside. The two of you always liked staying indoors to gossip while inhaling taste testing Euphemia's cooking to make sure it was up to standard.

"What are you hoping to unwrap this year Y/N, Remus perhaps?"

Your eyes widened and you turned to hit the cheeky Gryffindor in the chest, cheeks blazing with embarrassment. "Sirius! My mother is right there!"

He barked out another laugh when he saw your mother's shoulders shaking lightly with her own laughter. Your least favorite Marauder slung an arm around your shoulders and led you back out to the living to finish setting up for your friends.

The party had started the moment Remus and Peter arrived with arms full of presents. The gobstones were pulled out almost immediately, and everyone had a steaming mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and toppings. Euphemia made sure to put in exactly ten marshmallows in James and yours because if you had one more than him he would undoubtedly throw a fit.

The spiked eggnog and mulled wine came out later in the night, the group sitting in a circle next to the tree to pass presents around. The typical Quidditch gear and gag gifts were opened. Peter had taken out his camera to take a picture of you and James when you had opened your matching red and gold sweaters, "Potter" written in a sparkly font. Your gleeful smiles and infectious laughter were immortalized with a flash of a camera, the photo being displayed on the mantle straight away.

The twinkling lights hung around room reflected in your eyes, a warmth creeping into Remus' chest as he averted his gaze. Luckily all eyes were on Peter as he unwrapped a pair of knitted socks from you, striped with Gryffindor colors and his initials sewed on the side. The tall boy smiled fondly as his friend tried on his gift, with you clapping adorably in response to them fitting perfectly.

With the sun having set hours ago, the Potter house was now littered with scraps of colorful paper, candy wrappers, and board games were strewn about. The Potters and Peter had gone up to their rooms for the night, leaving Remus and Sirius to clean up at living room. Before following your brother and Pete, you walked over to the werewolf and poked his arm to get his attention (as if his attention wasn't always on you anyways).

"Hey Rem, I just wanted to let you know that I left your present in your room, in case you didn't want to open it in front of everyone," you smiled shyly, nodding awkwardly before shuffling towards the stairs, "Merry Christmas."

He wants to blame the mulled wine for his flushed face and racing heart, but he knew that nothing could be as intoxicating as you.

"Y'know Moony, your obsession might be a little less creepy if you just asked Little Potter out."

The wizard chess pieces dropped from the brunette's hands, looking up at his friend who had a shit-eating grin on his face. Remus huffed and quickly put the game pieces back in place, shaking his head. "I'm not obsessed with her, Sirius."

"Oh it's Sirius now! Struck a nerve, have I?"

Sirius had been staying with the Potters for a few years now, and it had become hard not to notice your behavior around his sandy-haired friend. He was no stranger to the way you would fix your hair around Remus, or put on your favorite outfits when you knew he was coming over. Also, you and Sirius had late night gossip sessions after James fell asleep. That was probably it.

"Pads, stop. It's not like that, and she wouldn't even like me back anyways. I'm just like you or Peter, just one of her brother's friends."

"Oh Moony," Sirius sighed dramatically, " Moony, Moony, Moony. You poor, oblivious boy."

Sirius had gone up to his room soon after, leaving Remus in the living room by himself to reflect on his feelings towards you. But how humiliating it would be if he confessed to you and you said no. He could never face you ever again, probably have to stop being friends with James at the very least to avoid any further embarrassment. Alright, he's thinking about this way too much. Remus head upstairs to his room, ready to fall asleep to hopefully dream of a life where you would look at him the way he looked at you.

On top of his pillow sat a small gift box wrapped so beautifully it couldn't have been from anyone else but you. Rough hands pulled away the delicate ribbon you had tied around the box, opening the lid to find a handmade teacup, his name painted carefully on the side. Next to the teacup laid a few bars of his favorite chocolate, a new book, and a bag of his favorite tea. His chest tightened with a new but very obvious feeling.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his daydream, the dark wood opening to reveal your lovely self smiling up at him. His mouth went dry as you stared at him with those big chocolate eyes that made him feel that just for moment you could look past every flaw and see him a man you could be with.

"Y/N-" he cleared his throat when it cracked embarrassingly, a deep blush dusting his scarred cheeks, "Thank you for the gift Y/N, I love it, really." I love you.

You nodded and pointed up the the top of the doorway, Remus lifting his head to see a sparkling spring of mistletoe.

Perhaps Remus Lupin could be lucky.

[ivystoryweaver]

hi ivy, congrats on 1k! 💕🎉 i was wondering if u have any hc's on how the mk system would take care of u when ur sick? currently dealing w strep myself & it sucks. hope this is okay if ur still doing these & that u have good day! 🩷

You're Not Alone

@suresnips Once upon a time you were sick and I left you there, with no Moon Boys to comfort you... Jake is gonna have words with me. Thank you so much for the congratulations, you are so sweet! Long overdue, but I never leave an ask unanswered

Word Count: 700 Content: sick you, mentions of food, domestic life, slight mentions of Marc's past, not beta'd

Marc has been on his own for years, and even when he was young, he had to fend for himself.

He knows how to take care of himself, having shivered through fevers in the roughest neighborhoods and parts of the world - sometimes on the run.

Believe it or not, Marc is the one who really doesn't want you to feel alone when you're sick. He doesn't always know what to say or do (he does, actually, but that's his self-loathing talking), but he'll sit with you.

Marc doesn't like the doctor - he was raised hiding things from professionals and he's conditioned to think they don't actually care, but since he doesn't want you to feel alone, he will always make sure he's there to wait with you.

He's traveled all over. He's a survivor and he's picked up all kinds of useful knowledge from his journeys.

Marc knows lots of little tricks, like how peppermint or lavender oil can be diluted and rubbed on your feet to bring down fever. He also knows oils and tinctures for all kinds of symptoms, such tightness or spasms from coughing, or simply to help you rest.

Since Marc doesn't know what to say sometimes, he will want to touch you. But occasionally, having a fever means you do not want to be touched - or at least not held.

This is why both of you find it so soothing when he rubs a balm into your chest or oils onto your feet. His dark eyes lock onto yours and you can see straight to his soul

Marc is steady and calm when you're sick. He doesn't want you to feel that what is wrong with you is your fault - you really feel loved and supported, even when you have "just a cold."

Steven is a caring, observant person: cordial to those who dismiss him, professional to rude bosses, sympathetic to friends and mindful and proud of the places he occupies

He even talks to Gus and makes sure he has everything he needs.

So he is going to notice the second you're feeling off.

"Getting sick, aren't you, love?"

"What? No, I'm just tired."

By that evening, you're burning with a fever.

Steven ushers you to bed, letting you know he stopped by the store on the way home. He is prepared.

Steven knows which tea will soothe your throat or settle your stomach. He understands just the right amount of honey or lemon you need, and how long to steep the tea leaves.

Even if you don't prefer tea, he knows how to make it taste good enough to warm you up or settle you.

Steven is vegan so he knows how to substitute ingredients or some interesting places to order takeaway. He'll encourage you to steer away from foods that will only exacerbate your symptoms, like fried foods or too much dairy.

He loves to take care of you, dote on you, bring you trays of things, prop up your head with an extra pillow.

He'll place a washcloth over your forehead and cover you with an extra blanket while you suffer.

He'll read you to sleep if you like, but he will miss you so much while you're down and out.

He's an exuberant puppy when you're better.

Jake helps you get things done.

You're out of it for a few days or a week? All good - bills are paid (if you share them), laundry is done.

Don't feel like calling out of work or making doctor's appointments? Jake takes care of it. You're not to be bothered.

He's going to help you zone out.

He'll make you smile, play your favorite record, watch movies with you on the couch.

He's gonna sneak you junk food, tbh. Steven's teas and soups are so wonderful, but after a few days, there's just that one food you want because you're kinda feeling sorry for yourself?

That's Jake. Snacks and movies and lightening the mood.

And - it's Jake Lockley. He's definitely going to try to feel you up during a movie. Once your fever breaks anyway.

“But I look awful,” you halfheartedly protest.

"Never, mi amor. Just relax."

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[honeytonedhottie]

embodying the wellness girlie aesthetic⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

i rly love the pink pilates princess aesthetic so i thought i'd make a post on some habits that i've incorporated that rly fit this aesthetic. and improve my wellness in general.

THE PLAYLIST : for the pink pilates princess aesthetic i rly love to listen to music that makes me feel like a doll~ so the playlist aspect of this post is totally customizable and just suited to however u wanna feel. i listen to a lot of twice and sabrina carpenter when i work out. but listening to music just elevates the experience

THE NUTRITION : u dont have to do a complete 180 in the things that u consume, instead start implementing little by little, foods and drinks that'll improve ur health. bcuz u glow differently when ur glowing not only from the outside but the inside as well

kombucha - i totally recommend trying it if u haven't before. its kind of carbonated and u can get it in any flavors. kombucha in a nutshell is tea thats been fermented. it heals ur gut and contains lots of probiotics which are good for ur body in general

drink tea - drinking tea daily is so so so good for you. if ur a bit intimidated by tea start off with a tea 99% of people enjoy, spearmint/peppermint tea. idk many people who DONT like spearmint tea. its just an easy tea to enjoy and its RLY good for ur skin and ur body.

smoothies - look up smoothie recipes online! smoothies are so yummy and customizable so if u dont wanna directly consume ur veggies, you can get them in through a drink! its revolutionary. my go-to is strawberry and banana, bcuz its not only delicious and good for me, but its also pink which is the main reason

eat more salads, açai bowls, eat ur oats, drink ur smoothies and of course dont forget ur matcha

supplements - u can find wellness vitamins or supplements virtually anywhere. a brand that i rly recommend is ollie. im taking their hair skin and nails vitamins and they're lovely.

THE EXERCISE : if u go to youtube and look up follow along pilates workouts u can find SO many. use ur resources guys! if u try pilates and it isnt rly ur thing, try dance workouts or workouts for songs. try a workout challenge. working out doesn't have to be dull. the key is to find something that u enjoy doing and doing it consistently

SELF CARE : ofc the pink pilates princess prioritizes her self care time~ self care is just a good habit to incorporate period bcuz of the massive benefits on ur mental + physical + emotional state

do a face mask - hydrate ur skin guys

get ur nails done - the classic pink pilates princess nails are pale pinks and french tips

take a bubble bath - invest in a high quality bath bomb or bubble mixture that smells nice

invest in a gua sha

start oiling ur hair and putting in hair masks to keep ur hair healthy

write out what ur grateful for (self care isnt only physical)

GOING FOR WALKS : going for walks is amazing. walking improves cardiovascular health and reduces the chances of heart disease and strokes. i love to go for walks and listen to music or a podcast. just make sure that your walking in a safe space or with someone that u trust, especially if ur alone (stay safe <3) going for walks also helps clear ur thoughts!!

ATTIRE : buy clothes that make u feel cute and that make u feel good whilst working out! i like to wear a lot of pink when working out~ when i type pink pilates princess inspired outfits into pinterest i see a lot with leg warmers too! i think that having a cute outfit to workout in motivates u a lot to actually perform the actions and embody the wellness girlie aesthetic. cuz when u look the part -> u feel the part

and last but not least ENJOY urself and romanticize it, have fun <3

[milykins]

TMNT Headcanon – When You’re Sick

My daughter was sick for the better part of last week so that got me thinking... also these are just my silly little headcanons, my hope is that they fit with your perception of the turtles.

Aged-up characters

Bayverse Turtles

Individual Turtles x Female Reader (they would all be separate relationships not all at the same time, could just be friendships as well)

Mikey

Upon seeing you are sick with various symptoms, coughing, sneezing, headache, fever… etc. Mikey will spring into action immediately. He will wrap you in a blanket, deposit you on the couch and put on your favourite shows and movies. You want classic episodes of The Price Is Right? He’s got you covered. Then he gets to work in the kitchen making the absolute best homemade chicken noodle soup you’ve ever tasted. Mikey will proudly tell you he even made the broth himself. He also swears that it will help you get better faster. Even if you tell him to keep your distance because you don’t want him to get sick as well he will not be deterred. He will bring you medicine and water and cuddle you in a burrito blanket while giving you forehead kisses and asking if you feel better yet. You do, his care is exceptional and sweet.

Raph

This turtle will panic upon seeing all of the symptoms you are displaying and run to his brother in purple for advice. No, he does not want Donnie to take over, just tell him what to do! Donnie will exasperatingly tell him how to take care of you and he’ll return with a thermometer. Gingerly, he’ll take your temperature and when it beeps he’ll mutter to himself: is 100.5F normal? He’ll leave the room before you can answer and he yells the question to his brother. Donnie will reply with a resounding no. Raph will return again with some medicine that will help bring the fever down. He’ll help you take it with some water and make sure you’re wrapped up tight. His attempt at cooking will be a can of chicken noodle soup because he can at least do that. You appreciate the gesture nonetheless. He’ll also bring you cough drops and a cup of hot lemon drink like Neocitran or whatever they have on hand. Raph won't care much about germs, he will hold your shivery self until the medicine kicks in and you fall asleep.

Leo

He is mostly unfazed to find out you are sick but the deep underlying concern will be there. He will be the one to brew you a certain blend of tea that will help with your symptoms. He will have created the blend himself with a combination of peppermint leaves, dried juniper berries, Echinacea and eucalyptus. It’s surprisingly good and he adds some honey to soothe your throat. He guarantees this will help you feel better but he’s not opposed to using modern medicine as well. If your fever is high he will bring Advil or Tylenol to bring it down. He hates seeing you suffer after all. Leo’s care will also involve him keeping a cold compress on your forehead and strict bedrest, he’s serious, don’t get up. He wants you to call him even if you have to go to the bathroom. If you’re hungry he’ll make you some toast or plain white rice. He can do that without burning down the kitchen. If you want cuddles he will gently stroke your hair and maybe even sing a Japanese lullaby to help you sleep.

Donnie

Doctor Don will make sure you get well. He is the one with the actual medical advice and he will put it into practice. He might even wear a mask around you if your symptoms are severe enough. He will quarantine you in your bedroom and bring you medicine, hot lemon with honey and food that is easy on your stomach. He’s also the one that will bring you handheld video games or a portable DVD player. If it’s a deep mucousy cough or chest cold he’ll bring you into the shower and hold you in the steamy air just to help you breathe a little easier. Donnie will put on his doctor hat and will do ‘rounds’ just to make sure you’re doing okay. His care is a little on the excessive side… no visitors, even Mikey until your symptoms have greatly lessened. You can see how seriously he takes his concern for your wellbeing and even checks on you at night just to make sure you’re okay. He can be easily coaxed into holding you if it will help you feel better. It does.

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 7

First things first. A THOUSAND APOLOGIES for being so late with getting this next part out. Holidays are definitely a struggle, and my will to write kinda abandoned me like a dad going out to get milk. Anyway! I hope you all enjoy this next part!

Warnings! Kissing some drinking and nipple play. It's still pretty tame. Vomit too! Reader gets sick

Masterlist

Dracule licks his lips, wanting to surge forward to devour you. He wants you, every drop that you would gladly give him. However, the warlord isn't ignorant and knows that if he were to dive in and open up to you about everything he wants, you would never allow him back on your island. So, he clears his throat and takes a step back once he stands from his kneel, “I think that's enough for now,” Mihawk rumbles and turns to go take the wine glasses back to the kitchen.

You surprise yourself by snapping your hand out and wrapping it around his wrist. You tug gently, face on fire as you give him a shy smile, “I would like another glass, please,” you whisper and look up at Hawkeye through your lashes. You like the way the wine has made you feel. Shoulders slumped and head feeking a little airy. You wanted to know how else it would make you feel.

Mihawk watches you, golden eyes tracing a scorching path from where you hold on to his wrist all the way to your face. A smirk tilts his lips and Dracule lets out a put upon sigh, “I suppose one more wouldn't hurt, Darling,” he murmurs and twists his wrist so that he can catch your hand in his and dip to press his lips to your knuckles.

You shiver at the press of those sinful lips against your skin. You aren't ignorant, not entirely, at least. Your books have prepared you for what goes in between a man and a woman, but to experience it? Just the thought of thinking about Dracule in that way has your face exploding in a blush.

Mihawk ticks a brow up at your reddening face, “Something wrong, dear?” He murmurs, tone a touch concerned when he watches you suck your bottom lip between your teeth and chew nervously. He hums and takes your face in his warm hands, and despite your current embarrassment, you still find yourself sagging in his hold.

“I'm fine. You're just… really pretty,” you find yourself admitting, and Dracule cortles at your innocent admission. You want to duck away from his laughter, but the pirate steps close enough to gently pressing his lips to your brow.

“I am glad you think so, sweet thing,” Mihawk rumbles, and you can hear the muted delight in his tone, “Though your beauty far outweighs my own. Despite your snowy devil fruit, you shine brighter than the Sun.”

Butterflies break out in your stomach, and your hands find his wrists and tighten around them. You have no idea what to say to his kind, flowery words, but Dracule doesn't seem to mind. He presses one last kiss to your brow and then recedes, taking the wine glasses to the kitchen to refill them.

Mihawk takes a moment once he is away from you. His hands grip the counter, and he breathes deeply through his nose. Dracule doesn't understand the sway you have him under. His heart thuds at even the smallest hint of affection, hands sweating like some preteen who haven't even kissed a girl yet.

“Fool,” Dracule hisses under his breath. There was no need to be overthinking his feelings for his dear one. She was his, and that was that.

That settled, Mihawk filled the glasses and loped back to the living room. A smile flits across his lips when he sees that you've stood from your seat and have taken his hat from where he'd placed it on the mantle of the fireplace. He can't help the huff of amusement that leaves him when you carefully place the massive hat in your head and examine yourself in the small mirror off to the side in your cluttered living room.

“You know, Pirate Captains consider it rude and unwise for another to wear their hat,” Dracule comments casually And smirks at the way you jump in shock, flurries scattering about in a puff as you swipe his hat down from its perch.

“Sorry!” You squeak and shuffle back to the fireplace to hook his hat back on the mantle.

“Don't apologize, Dear One,” Mihawk dismisses and walks over to hand you the glass of red. You examine it with a critical eye and then take a careful sip, smiling when you find that it tastes even better than before.

“Why is it rude?” You ask and settle back on your couch, pulling your legs up and under you. You are glad that Mihawk isn't upset at your curiosity.

“For some, their hat is their staple, their symbol of who they are. I've had mine for well over two decades now, and it would be like losing a part of myself if something were to happen to it,” Dracule hums and fingers the cross necklace that hangs around his necklace, “Just like my ship and my sword.”

You find yourself nodding along, fascinated by this way of life you know little about. The only pirates you've ever had the misfortune of meeting have been little more than barbarians.

As the night goes on, one glass turns into three more. Dracule had sat beside you on the couch, and as the bottle emptied, you had grown bolder. Scooting close to your friend and cuddling into his chest. Mihawk tightens the arm he has wrapped around you, and you happily allow him to move you so that you sit in his lap, legs on either side of his own. Dracule collects the empty glasses with one hand and sets them on a side table for later. Your head lolls to the side, vision shimmy and head stuffed with clouds. You are well and truly drunk, but you feel good, and you know that Dracule can make you feel even better.

You rise, and Mihawk is subjugated to the most lust filled look he's seen so far, and it makes him shift under you, hands moving to settle on your hips to keep you steady Your hands curl in the ruffle of his shirt, and you gasp when Dracule drags you close by the hips, blushing when you realize that Mihawk can definitely feel how hot you are between your legs.

You aren't sure who started kissing who first. All you know is that you adore the feeling of Dracule's tongue in your mouth. Mihawk explores in an unhurried manner, taking his time to catalog the meek whines and breathy whimpers you let out when he does something you like. His tongue curls around your own, and he gently sucks your slick muscle into his mouth. It's slick and wet and exactly what you want. You whine into the kiss, and Dracule takes pity on you, moving his hands up and under your shirt to rest his burning palms against your freezing skin.

The temperature chance has you breaking the kiss to hiss at the unexpected touch. Mihawk slides his hands up your sides, leaving a fiery trail that leaves you shaking in his hold. Everything feels tingly, like when you step into the ocean and feel the calm waves sap your strength. You drop your head to rest on his shoulder, but Mihawk gently pushes you back, and you are suddenly caught in his demanding gaze.

“Put your arms above your head, dear,” Mihawk orders, and you raise your arms up without a thought. He hooks your shirt and lifts it up and over your head, and then toss it to the floor. He sucks in a sharp breath when your breasts are exposed to him, and he makes a mental note that you did not wear any kind of chest wrap under your clothes.

Reverently, Dracule cups one of your glorious mounds, thumbs swiping over a peaked nipple and sighing in rapture when you moan for him. He does it again, playing with your tits to his enjoyment until you are a squirming mess in his lap.

“Dracule,” you whine, and glance down at him, eyes half lidded and full of heat. You don't know what you're asking for, only knowing that the man below you can provide it.

With a growl, Mihawk tips the two of you, shifting so that you land on your back and end up staring up at him. The warlord dips down, lips latching around a hard nipple and swirling his tongue around the bud. You curse, back bowing off the couch, but Mihawk holds you down, hand coming up to tweak and roll the only nub. Pleasure zings through you, body heating up as Mihawk laves your chest with attention. He leaves your nipple long enough to gently bite the soft skin of your breast, teeth digging in just enough to leave an imprint.

Your hands dig into his dark hair, pulling him down and closer to your heated body. Your hips jump on their own violation, and Dracule groans when you accidentally rut against his growing erection. He doesn't stop, wanting to every breathy moan you make for him.

Everything is perfect until it suddenly isn't. The multiple glasses of wine and your overheating body have made a bad combination. You grimace when you feel your stomach twist, eyes opening a crack, and the flickering light of the fire just makes the feeling worse.

“Mi-Mihawk,” you stutter out, and Dracule's sharp ears easily pick up on the panic in your voice. He raises up, and then he scrambles to stand when he notices the vaguely green tint you have going on. The warlord slides his arms under your body, lifting you bridal style as he speed walks to the bathroom. He gets you there just in time, knees hitting the ground and wine coming up to splash into the toilet.

You're crying by the time it's all over, fat tears rolling down your face, and you know you look pitiful. Mihawk strokes his thumbs across your cheeks, cleaning your face of any more tears, “I'm sorry,” you say, and wince at the roughness of your voice.

Dracule huffs at you and gently clears your hair away from your face, “No harm, Dear One. Let's just keep your wine intake to just one glass for now. How about that?”

You nod easily and sniff, wiping your face as your lips pull into a pout. You feel horrible, physically, and for ruining the mood from earlier. Mihawk opens his arms, and you gladly fall into him, shoving your face in the crook of his neck as he holds you. You silently promise yourself to never drink so much again.

Mihawk sighs to himself as he adjusts the precious bundle of blankets in his arms. You had fallen asleep within seconds of him holding you, leaving Dracule to once again pick you up and tuck you into bed. Hank gives him a big puppy smile when he enters your bedroom, and Dracule makes sure to pat his head a couple of times after tucking you in. He leans in and presses a kiss to your brow before leaving the room. Looks like it would be the couch again tonight.

@writingmysanity @foggyturtleknightangel @kenkenmaaa @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @djbumblebee

[dumbass-fae]

Lemon Peppermint Tea 🍋🌱

This is a recipe for a cold infusion tea for mental clarity. 💕

As someone who struggles with extreme brain fog drinking this in the mornings helps me shake the fog for at least a little while.

Ingredients

🍋 Desired amount of cold water (can use sun water for energy)

🌱 2-3 or even 4 peppermint tea bags (I like mine stronger) (mental clarity)

🍋 Lemon juice to taste (energy)

🌱 Sugar (opt) (sweetness, self love)

Directions

🍋 Place sun water (or regular water) into whatever cup or glass you want.

🌱 Add in the tea bags, lemon juice, and sugar if you want

🍋 Cover with lid or tin foil or plastic wrap (whatever you have really) and place either in the sun for a few hours to infuse or in the fridge overnight to drink in the morning.

(You can place energizing and clarifying crystals around your cup or glass if in a safe space to do so)

[prismaticpichu]

Genesis’s Kindest Deeds ❤️

• Considering trashing all his outgrown clothes when going through his wardrobe, but then deciding to donate them instead

• Has a habit of holding the “door open” button on an elevator for at least 10 seconds to make sure no one else needs to enter

• ALWAYS leave a 20% tip (plus a smiley face and “thank you :)” but don’t tell anyone else)

• Taking Zack to the infirmary when he felt sick and Angeal wasn’t around

• Picking up 30 wrappers while on a walk one day and throwing them out

• Tying Zack’s shoes when he couldn’t bend down from over-squatting

• Massaging Seph after a stressful day

• Offering to cook dinner instead of Angeal after a stressful day

• Standing in line at a coffee shop, overhearing that the person in front of him forgot his wallet, and offering to pay for him. He even bought his kid a sprinkled sugar cookie <3

• Putting little sticky notes on the pages of catalogs that he thinks Seph will like best

• Canceling all his plans one day to attend a meeting with Sephiroth, knowing Angeal was on a mission and his best friend was astronomically anxious. He squeezed his hand under the table some time during it and whispered that everything was going to be alright.

Angeal’s Kindest Deeds 💜

• Making peppermint and ginger tea for Sephiroth & Genesis when they both fell ill (it was Genesis’s fault for the record- man kept trying to adjust the blankets on Sephiroth when he thought he wasn’t warm enough, and eventually caught his cold)

• Attending at least 55 Loveless performances with his friend

• Telling Genesis to read him Loveless lines when the auburn appeared down

• Telling Sephiroth to name the periodic table alphabetically for him when the man seemed down (see this is very exciting to some people)

• “Losing” several arm wrestling competitions to Zack to boost his pup’s self-esteem one day when the boy was down

• Volunteering at the local pet shop/animal shelter

• Delivering home-cooked meals to the orphanage in the slums

• Adding decorative plants to every floor of the ShinRa building

• Buying Sephiroth an aromatherapy bracelet to help with stress

• Walking 50 minutes out in the pouring rain to pick up Zack at a restaurant because he forgot an umbrella

• Adopting a small, hyper Third as his own when no other SOLDIER was willing to show him the ropes

Sephiroth’s Kindest Deeds 💚

• Went to the slums one afternoon for a monster extermination mission; left with 500 Gil given to children he saw living in impoverished conditions

• Found a stray, wounded cat in the street and took it to the animal shelter; endured several scratches along the way, but never did he leave the poor animal to fend for itself

• Allowed Zack to hold Masamune—one of his prized, protected possessions—knowing it would make the boy’s (and Angeal’s) day

• Stitching Zack’s clothes back together after a violet mission left a tear—and before the boy would receive an earful from Angeal about being responsible.

• “Losing” to Genesis one spar when the auburn was having a particularly rough day

• Constantly buying books for Genesis so he never runs out of material to read (always having at least two ready for him while he’s in a current book)

• Offering to donate his blood to save his treasured friend, despite years of being tested from Hojo leaving him horrified of needles

[heylittleriotact]

La Vie en Rose - an Emmrook One Shot

Oops my fucking hand slipped.

(Rated M for some casual embalming chat between professionals)

Mourn Watch Rook x Emmrich

Pre-Release, probably not canon compliant, I don't care :D

Her arrival was heralded by the sound of her heeled Orlesian shoes winding down the staircase to the study. He looked up from the workbench, hands stilling over a bowl of various herbs and powders as she came into view. She looked distant; concerned.

She stiffened when she realized he was looking at her, the fingers of her right hand tightening just a little on the hand railing.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be down here,” she said, immediately turning to retreat up the stairs, the tips of her pointed ears going pink. 

Emmrich frowned: Amina Rook had been a reclusive phantom haunting this curious place from day one: one word answers awaited any attempts made by himself or any of their other companions to get to know her, and she was eager to mutter rushed goodbyes if she found herself sharing space with anyone else.

She was clearly terrified, and if even half of what he knew of her was true and not just idle gossip between mortalitasi and Mourn Watch, she had good reason to be. 

She was also nearly halfway up the stairs now and almost out of sight.

“Wait!” He cried out, rushing to the bottom of the stairs. “Manfred just put on the tea… won’t you stay for a cup?” Wide sage eyes stared down at him. “Only one… if it pleases you, of course,” he added. 

Those green eyes narrowed ever so slightly with what was surely distrust. He couldn’t blame her for that either: considering the circumstances surrounding her ‘sabbatical’ from the necropolis, it made perfect sense that she would be wary around colleagues within the Mourn Watch. 

“He always makes far too much tea,” Emmrich said in a stage whisper: he didn’t relish convincing her at the cost of Manfred’s reputation, but he had to at least try to help this blatantly unsettled woman. “You’d be doing me a great favour.” 

She pulled a handful of sleek black hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through it nervously. “Fine.” 

One word. 

It was something. 

He stepped away from the stairs and unfurled his arm in the universally understood gesture: after you. She swept past him without a glance, and the scent of cedar, peppermint and rose water trailed in her wake. 

She stood in the middle of the study, her arms crossed defensively, back to him, tapping her toes on the stone floor as she looked around at the rows upon rows of books that stretched from wall to wall, ceiling to ceiling. 

“Manfred, would you please place another setting for tea? Amina has kindly agreed to join us.” Emmrich unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled up the cuffs of his shirt on his way to the wash basin at the end of the workbench. He dunked his hands in the water and soaped them up as Manfred creaked enthusiastically to the cupboard and rifled through it for another cup and saucer - such things were curiously difficult to come by in the Lighthouse for some reason. 

He dried his hands on the clean towel next to the basin and chanced a smile at Amina. She caught the expression and her gaze darted back to the shelves of books. 

Found in the crypts by undead as an infant - no parents were ever located - Amina had grown up in the necropolis, raised by the Mourn Watch. He’d never met her - not unusual considering the size of the city - but he knew of her. Everyone in the Watch knew of her involvement in the War of the Banners, and many did not look upon that involvement kindly. 

Emmrich was of the mind that ‘encouraged to travel’ was a rather droll way to say ‘indefinitely exiled from the only place she’s ever called home’. Add to that this business with the Dread Wolf… it was little wonder she was in such a state.

The shared silence was broken only by the rattle of china and effortful grunts and chatters made by Manfred as he prepared the tea.

Best get that mystery out of the way first, Emmrich decided.

“I don’t share the opinion that some of our associates have in regard to your perceived interference in the matters of the undead nobility. It was a difficult choice to make, and unfortunately you were placed in a position where you were the one responsible for making it. I can’t claim that I wouldn’t have done the same, were I in your shoes… it was the right thing to do.”

Amina considered him with those wide eyes and drew her lower lip through her teeth thoughtfully before saying quietly, “Thanks.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her thin black coat that fell midway down her thighs and jerked her chin at the wall of books. “Read them all yet?”

That was an astounding four words.

Encouraged, Emmrich chuckled. “I’m afraid my ancient elvhen is a touch out of practice, but I’m making good headway… or I would be if I only had another century or two to spare.” He went to the table in front of the fireplace where they would take their tea and pulled out a chair for her. “Please sit, my dear.” He smiled again. No threat. He was accustomed to people in general being unsettled by him, but not people who lived in the same world he did… knew what he knew. 

She visibly flinched at the gesture, but found it in herself to sit on the chair and let Emmrich push her up to the table. Her eyes followed Manfred as he shuffled over to the table holding the kettle and began pouring steaming water into the teapot. He replaced the lid with a ‘clink’ and leaned closer to Amina, cocking his head and cooing softly as he took her in.

“Curiosity…” she murmured, and she looked over the table at Emmrich who had seated himself across from her. “But you call him–” she caught herself and addressed Manfred, “Sorry, is ‘him’ right?” The skeleton chattered an affirmative set of gurgles accompanied by a nod and Amina continued. “You call him Manfred?” 

“He calls himself Manfred, so it would be astoundingly rude of me not to do the same.” Emmrich winked at Manfred and helped himself to a tea sandwich and a biscuit. 

It would seem Amina’s own curiosity was piqued. 

“Fascinating,” she breathed, watching Manfred with rapt attention as he poured tea into a cup for her and and a cup for Emmrich. “I’ve encountered spirits of curiosity on occasion, but they’ve never been keen to take a physical form. And he just… follows you around and… helps?”

“There is no better way to satisfy curiosity than by actively participating in the world around us, wouldn’t you agree?” His heart stirred with affection at the sight of Manfred offering Amina the plate of sandwiches. “He is not bound to me - he is free to come and go as he pleases… leave if he chooses, but he seems to be quite content rendering his tremendously valuable aid as my assistant… and I am eternally grateful for it.” 

Amina took a sandwich and Manfred set the plate down. He picked up the bowl of sugar and held it out to her with an inquiring chirp.

“Uh… two please.” 

Two cubes of sugar were dropped into her tea, followed by cream, and Emmrich saw delight in her eyes for the first time as Manfred stirred her tea for her.

“Thank you,” she actually smiled at his assistant then, and Emmrich’s heart was lightened at the sight of it. She sipped her tea. “This is perfect, Manfred.” 

Manfred’s bones quivered with excitement and he sidled over a pace to see to Emmrich’s tea next - he knew how he took it: one sugar, no cream - simple and without fuss.

“How we met is a delightful tale, and I’ll be happy to tell it to you one day, but for now I’d like to focus on you: how are you?” 

The remnants of her smile vanished and her cool, collected visage returned as she cradled the rather battered teacup in her hands. “I’m fine,” she said just a little too quickly. “No need to worry about me.” 

Emmrich nodded his thanks to Manfred who had finished with his tea, and the skeleton shuffled off. “Spoken like a true disciple of the Mourn Watch.” He watched her brow tighten and took a moment to lift his tea to his lips and blow on it gently. “But as it happens, I too am familiar with the fact that we tend to put the welfare of everyone else - including the dead - ahead of our own almost habitually.” Was that a scowl? “You are safe with me, Amina… you can trust me.” 

She sipped from her tea again. “Manual suture, or needle injector?” 

Emmrich raised an eyebrow, his own tea inches from his lips. “I beg your pardon?” 

“When closing a decedent’s mouth, which do you prefer: manually suturing with a needle and twine, or the needle injector?”

Truth be told, Emmrich hadn’t really been expecting to talk shop over tea with Amina, but she was talking, and that was leaps and bounds better than her skulking around the Lighthouse in terrified catatonia. 

“I have a strong preference for manually suturing where I can. It’s easier to control the placement of the sutures, and the resulting mouth position and shape tends to look more natural than when one uses the injector.” He reached for his biscuit. “Of course there are cases in which the injector makes for easier work, but I find the amount of time it takes to get each needle positioned correctly doesn’t make it much more efficient at the end of the day: I favour quality over quantity.” He dunked the biscuit and smiled at Amina again. “And you?” 

She studied him over the rim of her tea cup before saying, “Suture. All the way.” She tossed her head back, downing the hot drink in one go before saying. “Perhaps I can trust you after all, Mr. Volkarin.” 

“Please call me Emmrich.” 

“Perhaps the next time I join you for tea.” 

“The next time? So you’ll come again?” 

Another smile - this one with a rather mischievous tilt to it. “So long as Manfred is the one making the tea.” She stood from her chair and Emmrich shot to his feet as well. 

“Allow me to escort you back to your room.” He extended an arm to her. Amina breezed past and made for the stairs, her heels clicking over the stone. 

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, beginning to ascend the stairs. “Farewell, Mr. Volkarin. This distraction was… appreciated.” She shot him one more smile over her shoulder before disappearing from view, leaving behind only her lipstick stained tea cup, forgotten sandwich, and the lingering scent of cedar, peppermint, and rose water as evidence of her ever having been in the study.

Much to Emmrich’s surprise, she returned the next afternoon at precisely four, given away by the clicking of fashionable Orlesian shoes on spiral stairs.

“Hello, Emmrich. May I join you for tea?”

[ktwritesstuff]

The Babysitter (a Last of Us fanfic) pt. 8

Title: The Babysitter Fandom: The Last of Us Rating: Mature Characters & Pairings: Joel Miller x Reader Word Count: ~2,000 Summary: An encounter with a familiar face.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 (below cut)

Notes: This one has a point of view change at the end. Hope it doesn't throw off the groove, but someone's keeping secrets from us ;)

Winter & Spring

In the coming weeks, Joel and Tommy worked on the shed so that you could preserve the meat the next time one of them shot a deer or goose.  In the meantime you drank peppermint tea by the gallon and ate all the berries you could get your hands on. 

With the last of the tomatoes boiled down to a measly pint and the garden cleared of bitter greens, you scoured your little library for information on what plants would support a healthy pregnancy.  Wild yam was most commonly mentioned so you tore the yellowing botanical illustration from your book and carried it with you on your daily walks.  You searched high and low and despaired to realize your pleasant little valley was too rocky to support root vegetables. 

By the first frost you had a substantial belly and an appetite to match.  You tried not to be greedy, but neither Joel nor Tommy had the heart to let you go hungry, so as your supplies dwindled they starved while your belly grew.  As the days grew colder, the icy conditions proved more treacherous as it became harder for you to get around.  It wasn’t so cold as to be dangerous, the way it got further north, but it was still much colder than your Texas blood cared for.  One morning you woke up to a blanket of snow covering the garden.  

You took a spill into the ice cold creek while hunting for the crayfish that burrowed under the rocks.  Joel and Tommy stayed up all night stoking the fire just to be sure you didn’t freeze solid.  The next morning, Joel put his foot down and insisted on confining you to the house.  He worried–as did Tommy, who was far more diplomatic with his concerns–that a wrong step or slip that might otherwise be merely injurious could prove disastrous for you.  You agreed to their demands, supposing it was the least you could do under the circumstances, but you weren’t above complaining when the cabin fever set in.

Joel wasn’t quite asleep, but your supply of firewood was dwindling, and the bed was still warm. There was no sense in getting up before dawn.  You could hear his stomach growling as he laid in bed beside you, but he wasn’t the only one keeping you awake.  You could feel the baby moving, a foot or an elbow pressing hard into your ribs.  It wasn’t quite painful, but even now that it was happening more frequently, it still felt utterly strange.  It didn’t help that your skin felt so dry and stretched in the winter air.  

“Joel,” you whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Give me your hand,” you said.

“What for?”

He sounded irked; you weren’t surprised.  Aside from the hunger, he’d barely touched you all winter.  He wouldn’t have even shared the bed, if not for his nightmares about you freezing to death in the night.  You couldn’t blame him, not really; you weren’t feeling particularly sexual these days. You still had nausea most mornings and laying on your back made your legs go numb.  

“Just give it here,” you urged, reaching for him.  “Quick.”   

You slid his hand between the folds of your robe–one of the only things that still fit–and placed it on the swell of your belly.

“Whoa,” Joel sat up at attention as the baby kicked against his hand and you chuckled.  He moved his hand over your stomach, following the path of a tiny foot.  “Does that happen a lot?”

“Almost constantly,” you said.         

“That’s—shit,” Joel stammered, awestruck.  

You had always suspected Joel and Sarah’s mom weren’t together when Sarah was born, but now you realized although he had been a father (and a good one from what you remembered) he had never done this part before. That it was all as new to him as it was to you.

Weeks passed, the snow melted and as the days grew longer you began to notice the first signs of spring. Snowdrops and crocuses poked their heads up along with kale sprouts that had over-wintered.  Yellow dandelions polka-dotted the yard and you pulled them up to brew tea and make fritters.

On the first warm day of spring you staged your rebellion, pulling on your boots stuffed with newspapers and declaring that you were going for a walk if it killed you.

“Stay within sight,” Joel warned, although you suspected he was just as happy to get you out of the house as you were to get away from him.  

It was harder to get down the hill than you remembered.  You tried to brush it off as a product of being cooped up for so long, but it was so pleasant just being outside you were distracted from your worries soon enough.  The trees were turning the gorgeous green of the first new growth of the season.  

As you walked you caught sight of a spot of red in the brush and realized with delight there was a patch of strawberries ripening among the ferns.  You sat right down on the damp earth and began plucking as many berries as you could, shoving them greedily into your mouth, even the palest pink ones that were still quite bitter and astringent.  You were so enraptured you didn’t notice someone was approaching until they were right in front of you.

You looked up and there was a woman.  She was tall, you guessed somewhere between Tommy and Joel in age.  She had long brown hair and held a gun loosely in her right hand; she looked nearly as surprised as you.  You froze, eyes wide, paralyzed by fear.

“Easy,” she said, holding her hands out. “Easy–”

You screamed, struggling to push yourself to your feet, scrambling on all fours through the mud back up the hill, too top heavy to push yourself upright.  

“Joel!  Tommy!  Help!” 

“Woah,” the woman shouted.  “I’m not here to hurt you–”

You were impressed, honestly, by how fast Joel managed to move, sprinting down the hill, rifle in hand.  He pushed you behind him, gun raised.  The woman raised her weapon.  

“It’s fine,” she said firmly.  “Everything’s fine.  No problems.”

“You’re on my land,” Joel growled.  “I call that a problem.  What are you doing here?”

You couldn’t see Joel’s face as you cowered behind him dutifully, but you felt like you could read his mind as the standoff progressed.  You had made it through winter by the skin of your teeth; you were just getting back on your feet.  The garden would feed you for the summer, but everything you had–food, shelter, safety–depended on no one finding you.   

“My group sent me to look for food,” the woman said.  “I saw your strawberries from the trail.  That’s all.”       

By then Tommy, who must have been further off when you called, was coming down the hill and the woman–realizing she was out-manned and out-gunned–held her hands up in parley. She cocked her head to one side, peering at you, Joel’s dwindling frame doing a poor job of concealing your bump.  

“How far are you?”

“Six months,” you said, only for Joel to shush you.

“Really?” The woman looked surprised.  

“What’s it to you?” Joel snapped.  

“She looks a little big for 24 weeks is all,” she said.  “Every woman is different.  Probably nothing to worry about.”

You felt Joel’s body tense.  Six months was only an estimate, of course.  You knew you were getting big, you moved slowly, your back hurt, your feet swelled, but it had never occurred to you that something could be wrong until now.

“My name’s Tess, by the way,” the woman waited for you to introduce yourselves, but was met with silence.  “And, uh, which one of you is the father?”

“None of your fucking business,” Joel snapped, which was as good as a confession as any.  For a moment, you thought she looked disappointed.  

“What brings you through here, anyway?” Tommy asked, changing the subject before Joel inevitably shot her for asking too many questions.  

“My group’s heading north,” Tess explained.  “You have a radio?”

You did, but you only turned it on every few weeks to try to save what battery you had.  

“Boston QZ lost a third of their population over winter,” Tess explained.  “They’re looking for healthy people who can work.  They’ve got supplies, doctors, schools–”

You’re sure that must have sounded like a dream to some, but after Atlanta you were in no hurry to be crammed into another QZ.  You hoped Tess and her people would get there safely.  You found yourself liking her; you didn’t know many folks who could stare down Tommy and Joel and stay calm and collected.  

“I guess you better get going then,” Joel said, still peering at her over the barrel of the rifle.  

“Well,” Tess gave a long, drawn-out sigh, tucking her gun into her waistband.  “I was looking for food.  I was hoping you might share your strawberries.”

“Those are my wife’s strawberries,” Joel said.  

You blushed inadvertently, hearing him call you his wife for the first time and realizing–though you didn’t have church bells or wedding rings–it felt right.  It felt true.  

“Well, Sweetpea?”  Joel relaxed his grip on the rifle, turning to look at you.

“She can have some,” you nodded.  

“Thank you,” Tess said, flashing you a smile so warm you couldn’t help but smile back.  “Do you think you could come down and show me where I should pick?”

Joel shot you an exasperated look, waving you on as he and Tommy watched closely.  

“Here is okay,” you said, pointing to a section of the plants that you hadn’t entirely picked over.  

“Can you show me how?”  Tess said.  “I don’t want to hurt your plants.”

“It’s not hard,” you said, rolling your eyes, crouching down to pinch one of the berries from its stem.  

Tess leaned over, watching closely.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, leaning into your ear.  “Do you want to be with these men?”

“Oh,” you gasped, and laughed nervously.  “Yes.  I’m okay.  They’re my family–”  

Remembering Atlanta, you thought better of it and tried again.  

“I mean, we’ve been together forever, since before, you know.  We take care of each other.  I like it here.”

Tess nodded along with your explanation.  “No offense.  You understand why I had to ask.”  

“I do,” you agreed.  “And I appreciate it.  It’s kind of you.”

“So,” Tess said.  “Which one is Tommy and which one is Joel?”

“Tommy’s the younger one with the hair,” you explained, soto voce. “And Joel is the older one with the sourpuss.”

“I see,” Tess chuckled.  “He calls you Sweetpea?”

“My childhood nickname,” you explained.  “To be honest I’m not even sure if they remember my Christian name, but it’s nice to have a reminder of home, you know.”

“And where is home, for you?”

You told Tess all about Texas and she told you about growing up outside Chicago.  Despite your better judgment, you recounted a sterilized version of your time in Atlanta, and she reassured you weren’t responsible for your troubles there.  You had forgotten how much you had enjoyed the company of other women, and the more you talked with Tess the more charming and likable you found her.

“I want Tess to come to the house for lunch,” you announced, catching Joel and Tommy off guard.  You felt bold, stating it as a fact instead of asking permission, but it was as much your house as it was theirs.  

“It’d like that, too,” Tess agreed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Joel protested.  

“I want her to come,” you insisted.

Joel looked to Tommy, who shook his head.

“Consider me Switzerland,” he said.  

“I said no,” Joel growled.  

“I work just as hard as you and Tommy,” you said, probably harder considering you cooked and cleaned and foraged while lugging around an extra thirty pounds of baby Miller.  “I want to have a friend.  I deserve to have a friend.”

“This is a bad idea,” Joel warned.    

Lunch, like every meal for the last few weeks, was watered-down soup of a scant handful of beans and barley, the first young leaves of swiss chard, garlic mustard, with a chickweed and violet blossom salad on the side.  It wasn’t much, but Tess was gracious enough to make it out to be the best thing she had eaten in ages.  If her travels north had been anything like yours, it very well might have been.

After your meal you felt the day’s excitement had taken its toll and were content to lie down in the bedroom while Joel escorted Tess out of your valley.       

Tess and Joel spent most of the walk in silence, each one casting sideways glances

“Listen, we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Tess said, carefully picking her way through the greenbriers along the road.  “I think we can help each other.”

“I don’t need your help,” Joel said.  

“Maybe not,” Tess nodded.  “But I believe you want what’s best for that girl and your baby.  I’m not going to lie, we could use you and your brother out there on the road.  We’re no saints, by any stretch of the imagination, but we’re decent people.  About as good as it gets out here.  We’ll do right by you and your family, I promise you that.  

“Because the way I see it, you’ve got six, eight weeks max and that baby is coming, ready or not.  She’s young, she’s strong, and there’s a good chance everything goes right.  But if even one thing goes wrong, wouldn’t you rather have a doctor there?”

Joel stood in silence, staring at the forest floor.  The muscles of his jaw clenched, the very cadence of his breath galloping along with his racing mind.  

“I am not trying to scare you,” Tess pressed.  “But I’ve got a cesarean scar that says even with the best care, sometimes things don’t go as planned.  Come to Boston with us.  Get that girl some real care–you owe her that much.”  

“I’ll think about it,” Joel agreed.  “I have to talk to Tommy, but I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s all I ask.” 

Baby’s First Taglist: @stilllivindue2spite, @amethystwonders11, @teacupcollectorr, @jbaby2, @flyingmushroomsss, @boysddontcry, @cated18, @sunnycamm