#i am so confused it's like kind of good that it's not clearly romantic or platonic bcs idk what i want either just that i like her a lot

[peppermintbutch]

gaaah

[iceunhie]

— phaethetically in love !

premise. belle thinks her brother is the most oblivious person in sixth street. the reason? one: because his (super obvious) crush on you is practically the worst kept secret in new eridu, and two: because he can't even see that said crush is reciprocated! good thing he has one (1) amazing, wonderful, nosy sister to help him out, yeah?

or, belle thinks the two of you are a prime example of an s tier romance movie; and she really wants to skip to the final arc already.

pairing. wise x gn!reader.

warnings: kinda ooc wise (i just started the game), wise is a loser (lovingly), belle is an instigator (proudly), comedy, facepalm moments.

a/n: for @vxnuslogy and @milksnake-tea bc yes wise kissers yes

MY (rlly cool btw 🥺) MASTERLIST || INBOX !

“you're in love with [name], aren't you?”

like all siblings in the world—or what's left of it, belle schemes.

(against wise, of course. obviously.)

her brother bursts into a mess immediately, nearly spilling his cup ramen all over his new shirt, chopsticks sticking out. laughing nervously. general chop would not be proud. “who told you that? i mean— haha, who said that, belle?”

his sister rolls her eyes. “me, myself. i.” she emphasizes, leaning her elbows against the table and putting her palms together; the grin she wears right now is so serene, but not in the angelic, nice way. belle smiles and wise finally thinks, oh. my sister may need to book herself to the closest self-help guru in new eridu.

“i have reason to believe that you, my dearest brother, are in love with [name].”

her voice goes up an octave at the last bit, leading wise to stuff her mouth with potato chips. already, heads have turned. “mff.”

“keep your voice down! and stop broadcasting it to everyone here-”

“what, i am right, aren't i? they clearly like you back, so why haven't you confessed yet?”

“keep. your. voice. down.” wise says, and belle's shit eating grin only widens as she sees her brother's ears tinged with pink. “and... how did you even know that?” he asks, mortified.

“well, one: because it's obvious—like, have you seen how obvious you are?” belle huffs, taking a bite of the potato chip with force (personal grudges are involved). “and two, because they like you back, dummy!”

because when belle sees the two of you together, it's like wise focuses on no one else. you are the center of his world—and he is just being pulled to bask in your light. his eyes soften like they melt only for you, and wise looks like all he is is, all he wants to be, is to belong with you.

(and, wise likes to stare at you for ungodly amounts of time. belle even caught him staring when you were petting a cat by the street and decided to name the stray ‘wise’; courtesy of him, apparently. the cat literally just had grey fur.

“wise.”

“hm?”

“you're practically spawning heart eyes now.”)

it's sickening. (in a oh my god my brother is in love kind of way, mind you.)

“so!” belle says, a devilish sparkle in her eyes. “allow your dearest sister to help you out, 'kay?”

wise nearly coughs up blood.

“what?!”

so at present, belle compiles her (hastily written) list of romantic moments you and wise have shared. she's not surprised—the number can be counted on one hand. diabolical, disappointing, world-ending! she resists the urge to cough up blood.

first, a coff cafe date with tin man's help: a fail. tin man's wingman capabilities were very superb, but she never heard the end of it when wise was lecturing her about how tin man kept sending over heart shaped desserts and little fortune cookies. the fortune cookies in question which said ‘you can do it!’ and a latte with art of caricature tin man making a heart. (you were very confused). belle thought it was motivating. wise thought it was mortifying.

next, even instilling help from fairy to calculate statistics about what event would you two be likely to be together. fairy said, and belle quotes: “probably never. that kind of pining's for the long run, with the other master's current experience. give it a year or six, master.”

so, she's currently face-palming.

did her brother really have zero game? why were the two of you just dancing around each other?! she's tried everything—from letting you two spend more time with each other in commissions, her inviting you over more to leave you to chat with her brother, and even the entirety of sixth street has lent their aid! how were you two not dating yet?!

“didn't they go on an arcade date at random play yesterday?” belle mutters. “that should've increased your progress by a long mile, bro! even general chop said you two were really, really close in the noodle shop....”

just what was she going to do now? at this rate, her brother would be relationshipless in no time! in fairy's words again, it would be phaethetic. and that would be a phaethal blow on her pride.

“...master, i said no such thing.”

“well, now you did.”

“The Ethereal Reckoning,” there's a pep in your step, the boxes full of movie DVDs in your arms as you walk back to the movie store. it was heavy, but at least you got to walk with the grey-haired proxy beside you. “That movie was great! Thanks for recommending it to me.”

Sporting a dopey, lovesick grin in response, wise nods at that, content to listen to your voice. it was actually belle's idea to let you lend movies you like over so the two of you could talk about it back and forth. wise would need to (begrudgingly) treat her to a bowl of ramen later on.... she saved him—he probably wouldn't even be talking to you for this long at this point, let alone hang out with you without her. for someone so nosy, he guesses his sister was a pretty good wingwoman.

“the main character was pretty similar to billy, you know?” you ramble on as wise listens. “i mean, because they were an android too, and...”

he finds that he's content to listen to anything you say, really. (right now he doesn't really know what you're saying, something about a horror ethereal movie, but you could just tell him anything and he would listen).

“i feel like the heroine's death was unnecessary, though.” you sigh, “too much tension just for it to end like that? how anticlimactic.”

your voice was so nice, so warm and easy to listen to, and wise can't even say anything to retort, simply staring with a growing (lovesick) smile on his face. talking to people was hard work, and talking to you? it might just make him combust.

“...ise? wise?”

“ah, huh?” he snaps out of his trance, only to find you mere inches away from his face, the only thing keeping you apart the boxes full of movies he's carrying. “...!”

“are you listening?” you furrow, and someone really might be out to get him right now because in that moment, wise flinches from the proximity, bumping into you.

then, because the universe thinks his life couldn't get more dramatic than it already was—you stagger, about to fall forward.

he moves before he thinks. “watch out!”

and wise.... practically astral-projects to another plane when he feels you fall into his arms, his hands on your waist. he can feel the warmth of your skin on his, the flustered look on your face. (he feels like he's going to die).

the two of you lock eyes for a moment, and wise feels like he's about to so something very stupid and his hands are still on your waist—

“....”

“.....”

someone save him.

“ah...”

“sorry!” you recover first, hurriedly letting yourself pull away from him (much to his disappointment). “i wasn't looking, and i- are you okay, wise?”

“no, no, it's fine.... i-i'm fine....” he hopes his voice isn't as small as it is, he couldn't be smooth to save his life; and wise helps you gather your bearings, his hands brushing against yours, blood rushing to his ears. sheepishly rubbing at his nape. “sorry, i was distracted.”

perhaps in the mood to lift the atmosphere, you sputter out, “no worries! it's fine! besides, you listened to me all this time.... i really enjoyed the movie, really.”

“of course i'll listen.” and before wise can think to stop his traitor of a mouth, the words spill out of his lips like it always wanted to be.

“you're worth paying attention to.”

it's automatic—your face heats up, warming like the sun on a hot day in new eridu, and god, he is such an idiot-

“you think so?” wise gulps. you looked bashful, and were way too adorable right now, and his face felt like it was on fire.... wait, that's not the point! he has to answer you, at least. this is a chance to make progress!

“y-yeah. definitely. i enjoyed... watching the movie with you.” he says. did his voice just crack just now? “we can hang out more often too, even without belle.”

he feels bad for throwing his sister under the bus like that, but—wait, did he just ask you out on a date? (accidentally)

well, it didn't matter because wise feels like he won the lottery right now, because you brighten up immediately. “really?”

then you cough and compose yourself. “i mean, sure! i'm sure it'll be fun, haha...”

awkward silence ensues. uh oh, did he say something wrong? was he too forward? he wants to say something, but something is lodged in his throat, and wise can't bring up a response. (his heart was beating like crazy right now, though).

“uh...”

“....”

then, something soft brushes against the side of his cheek. as fast as it was felt, wise felt the sensation leave just as easily. did you just-?

you just kissed him. on the cheek.

“thanks for hanging out with me, wise.”

“you're welcome- wha- huh?!” he nearly drops the stack of dvd's he was holding. you pull away, an enigmatic smile on your face. face flushed.

before he can even respond, the two of you finally arrive at the movie store. damn it, gods of the world. why did his luck run out now?

“i guess this is your stop.” he blinks, your voice coming back to him. “and, wise?”

“ah, uh, yeah?”

“it's a date, then?” your eyes sparkle and shine a light through his heart. super effective!

is this really happening? is he really going on a date with you—oh, he's so thrilled he could actually burst into song and kick his feet, but belle would tease him ruthlessly after. nosy sisters were so much work....

“yes!” he almost yells it out, but because he didn't want to look uncool in front of you, wise composes himself. play it cool, play it cool. don't mess up this chance! “yes, definitely. it's... it's a date.”

you put down the other stack of dvd's down the table, flashing him a dizzying, lovely smile smile. wise swears he falls even harder for you.

“then it's a date.”

BONUS.

“seriously?! you're going on a date with them?!” belle shouts, so unceremoniously that wise slaps a hand on her mouth.

“not so loud! but, yeah.” he says, face heating up. “your plan worked, sis.”

“yes! yes! finally!” his sister practically cheers, “i can finally be free of your sickening heart eyes... and finally, our street's most anticipated couple is here!”

wise can't help but sigh in fond exasperation. he guesses he'll let her have this one today.

“also, belle?”

“what?”

“you didn't tell anyone about this, did you?”

...

“uhh....”

(on the day of the date, wise receives an abnormal amount of good luck posters. he also gets a disturbing amount of thumbs up from the neighbors.

the last straw? tin man, giving him a baked cake with the words ‘rooting for you!’ covered in pink heart sprinkles.

he facepalms. belle...!)

a/n: d d do you guys get it..... phaethetically...... phaethon..... wise is phaethon and he's awkward in love lol hahahahaha (💀)

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[lady-buggerinton]

My Top Five Polin Scenes in Part One (and why!)

My darling gossipers, so far this show is making literally all of my hopeless romantic dreams for this couple come true and who knows what kind of angst and drama were in for in part two, so before things gets too real I just wanted to go into (too much) depth on my favorite scenes and a few swoon-worthy details from part one! *whips reigns on carriage* shall we?

5. Drawing Room Lesson/Journal

Pen's brain: TOUCH ALERT! HIS HAND IS ON MY BACK.

This scene is so best friend coded with the way they are bantering and flirting the whole time. There's an adorable contrast between Penelope's fear of being discovered and Colin being like it's chill!(when in fact it is not Chill because they get interrupted after 5 minutes of gazing into each others eyes)

He just clearly wanted to be completely alone and behind closed doors platonically with his very beautiful friend (who looks like an angel in this scene) to pretend they are courting. Nothing suspicious about that!

I love how he's so into the lesson to the point that he has set out the lemonade as a prop and brought her to Bridgerton house in the first place specifically because she said it was where she was most comfortable (previously, but he's doing his best, and probably hoping she will become comfortable again, ouch)

Colin being the "dashing suitor" for her to flirt with (loser) and when she's resistant to fake flirting with him he hits her with the, "you don't have to be embarrassed, you know me!" trying to put her at ease. And he succeeds! Penelope is so comfortable during this scene when she's opening up about how it's hard for her to get her personality across, it's so sweet and honest.

And this is when the ROMANCING really starts, I love how it's Penelope who takes the lead here. mostly by accident, but the poor man is still left in shambles.

I do kind of wish for this scene they had gone with a more back and forth flirting moment, and seen them both get a little taste of how overtly flirting with each other would feel rather than her little poetic moment, but it was sweet to see her expose a corner of her feelings for him and watching him get a tad flustered at the compliment.

Ok, while it was rather uncool of her to read his journal, I love this part so much. Because I am no better, I would 100 percent do this given the chance. Her examining the space where he spends time, her running her hand over his pirate coat, (who wouldn't) the quiet yearning of that action. As a snoop myself, this was wish fulfillment.

Penelope being hit with a confusing mix of jealousy and intrigue by the contents of the journal entry, the way she stops reading for just a second and then gives in and devours his writing, not being able to hold back from getting inside his head. Don't think about how she probably missed his letters.

Colin's anger here is warranted, and I liked how he didn't come across as aggro-angry Colin from the books but is still justifiably upset that his privacy has been violated. He is likely aware that there are certain DETAILS he wouldn't want her to be reading, like how he's a lonely lonely sad little man trying to be rakish and roguish because his beautiful platonic friend isn't writing him back and encouraging him like she usually does.

Can I just mention that bandaging a wound is an excellent trope and it's such a good romancing vehicle: the care, the tenderness, the touching! the GRUMPINESS! But my favorite thing about the wound bandaging is his reaction to her complimenting his work, of which he hasn't shown ANYONE. He's just so shocked that she likes it, and clearly starved for her encouragement/anyone to be interested in his travels.

I think its also worth noting that this is THE moment that Colin thinks back to when he's considering activating his chaos tendencies by rolling up to the red ball to interrupt her proposal, so I'm gonna interpret that as him recalling his first realization/admittance to himself that he has feelings for her beyond friendship.

It wouldn't surprise me since it is after this moment that we see the hints of jealousy start to manifest at the full moon ball (looking for her, asking her if she likes a suitor, he's not subtle with it). Can't blame him, he was just touched with intimacy and care, and told his creative outlet is well-written, he is being ROMANCED to the max and he can't handle it.

We also have our first "please" as Pen asks to help, and as we will see, these two can't say no to each other once the magic word is spoken! I hope this theme makes a comeback in part two (please please please)

4. Market Scene

ok, besides a semi-silly looking wig on Colin (reshoots) this scene is first of all, so beautiful.

SHE IS SO FINE IN THIS SCENE I CAN'T EVEN THINK. She looks like a preraphaelite painting and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

I literally kept saying "wow" out loud. It actually makes the scene very silly to me because she keeps talking about how she'll never snag a husband and I'm over here on one knee begging for a chance.

If Penelope has been Colin's cheerleader and #1 supporter for their whole friendship, this is where that flips. This scene is all about Pen feeling dejected about her prospects and Colin trying to lift her spirits -basically by saying she doesn't need to work on anything because he already likes her so much without her doing anything but I digress!

There is nothing hotter than your crush talking about a shared memory! Literally nothing! You can see her absolutely light up here when he talks about their first meeting like "I can't believe he remembered" and "Shit, I'm trying to not be in love" and it makes me ache for her.

I am very sad we didn't get a meet cute flashback (hello romcom!!) but this was the next best thing. He's also definitely still in Rake Mode with the way he is being charming and flirty, but there is a core of genuine feeling here as he is trying to get her find her confidence and be more like the non-self conscious children they once were. I believe a lot of the rift between them was directly because she had such strong feelings for him and couldn't just connect with him as friends due to the pedestal she put him on, this scene shows that without that as a barrier, they are able to connect much more naturally.

"Living for the estimation of others is a trap, once you break free the world opens up," he says, and he's starting to realize this idea but hasn't quite put it into practice. I think seeing Penelope struggling to be something she's not, just like he is, shows him how it's not working for either of them. This I think kickstarts his self-reflection and eventual rejection of external pressures later on, leaving him open to pursue other passions.

Ok but what I LOVE most in this scene is his subtle digging for information about her that she isn't forthcoming with. He asks her why she wants a husband and where she feels most comfortable, peppering her with questions and also giving her zero personal space. He's very curious about her and what is going on inside, but she's not exactly open with him at this point, giving short and simple answers.

She's genuinely not used to someone asking her this many questions about herself, receiving this kind of devoted attention, and she clearly doesn't know quite how to respond. In fact, the dynamic has always been reversed, where she was encouraging and inquiring about him, so this switch is just excellent. there have been little moments throughout the series where he asks about her and she always seems to deflect to talking more about him, so it's nice to see this shift.

Also fun detail, the grecian statues behind them are a little nod to the eros and psyche vibes of the scene as cupid is trying to find a match for his psyche, but is slowly beginning to fall for her, his curiosity the first step towards total downfall.

When he asks about Eloise is where Pen just completely shuts down and says she has to leave, and the "before we are noticed" with the little smile? I have fallen in love. She's clearly using that as an excuse to dodge the question, and it is almost an inside joke, sadly. As if she's saying "No one would believe you are courting me anyway haha". And yet he's clearly bummed she's leaving, he was having such a good time, and she leaves him hanging, wanting to know more. I also absolutely love the Rae side eye, lethal!

3. Candy Tent

Post-kiss insanity is on full display here. The way she beckons him with a sexy head tilt and he came running, the way his hands give away his nervousness and his eyes keep locking on her helplessly. Just FULL ON crush mode. The soft "How are you?" he missed her!

Also outfits are incredible here, the pearls in the hair, the painted vest, Colin inventing the color brown, it's a rococo dream. The plushy pink of the tent, the ambiance, everything is just in a word: sumptuous? never used that but it feels right here.

Pen's giddiness here is just adorable, she's experiencing blatant interest for the first time and I couldn't be happier for her. But someone else is very peeved, indeed. He's trying to play the part of supportive friend while also just kind of feeling a lot of "confounding feelings"

The way he is trying to be so casual and attempting to keep up his swagger, but his true feelings are showing through BAD kind of harkens back to how Pen would interact with Colin in s1 and 2, with barely contained affection and hope. The script has been FLIPPED and it feels so good!!

I literally squeal every time he asks her if she's formed an attachment to Debling, this is the shit I signed up for!! Her saying Debling is not "unpleasant to gaze upon" and watching Colin just completely glitch out with jealousy. He's like AND WHAT ABOUT ME! Must be frustrating to be the most eligible bachelor of the season, and yet your very beautiful crush friend is complementing another man on his looks. When your crush expresses interest in someone it can be truly insanity inducing, so I feel for him here.

Pen is oblivious completely, she doesn't think any of what she is saying is negatively affecting him, in fact she thinks this news will make him happy! His lessons worked, she didn't care about being perceived and it is having the desired affect! and yet, he's miserable. Mission accomplished unsuccessfully if you will.

He does ALMOST a good job of hiding his feelings, but if Pen were not completely convinced he couldn't have feelings for her, I think she would've picked up on the vibes here. He's way less enthusiastic about the lessons, and is giving fairly curt responses, when before he was yapping on about being yourself and such.

Then of course the blatant staring at her mouth, being the yearning sort of man he is and likely recalling their kiss in detail, reminder it's been at least a week since. She's romancing him without even trying. It also makes sense for "food motivated" Colin to have Penelope + cake equals critical override of his facial expressions and his literally standing there slack-jawed with lust.

His soft "good luck", when she leaves and the fact that he doesn't mean it AT ALL.

I've seen it talked about, but it makes a lot of sense that Penelope wasn't as affected by the kiss as he was. I'm sure she enjoyed it, but for her the kiss was an end (more on that later) and for him it was the moment he admitted his feelings (which were already growing slowly). so it makes sense the yearning is very colin-sided in this scene.

Apart from the yearning, it's also just sweet to see them in cahoots and discussing this development with Debling like its a little group project, and its the perfect scene to show Down Bad Colin, and I love it. She also clearly wants him to share with her in her success, still wanting to be close to him in any way she can, which if I think about too much I'll cry.

Bonus points for him eating the cake later on, such an intimate detail, he just wants to be close to her in any way he can. CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM!

2. First kiss/Dream Sequence

Ok I'm combining these scenes because they happen back to back and sort of like a mirror of each other, sue me. This first kiss scene is, as Whistledown says, RECKLESS. It's nonsensical, it's desperate, and it's beautiful.

This scene has only improved upon rewatches, it really has everything. Best kiss scene on Bridgerton and possibly in anything ever? no doubt no doubt?

The silly back and forth on the "You're not going to die" and the way she doesn't back down when he seems to get embarrassed, but instead says what? The Magic Word! "Please" she says, which of course is both of their activation word. His expressions here definitely mirror the book, where as soon as she asks him to kiss her, he's a bit taken aback by how much he realizes he wants to already.

This is such a low moment for Penelope, and it's one parts embarrassing and two parts brave of her to ask him to kiss her. In her position, she doesn't even have her pride left, so why not ask the boy you love to kiss you? nothing will come of it anyway, and he probably won't even do it, so why not ask? And what are friends for!

then the moment comes, and the music swells, as does the tension as he closes the distance between them, her shocked face and shallow breaths as she realizes its actually going to happen, the way he lifts her face to his with his hand under her chin. It's just pure romance. and this thing between them, this space that has never been crossed, is being crossed, and it feels insane. reckless. intimate!!

What I love is the shot that focuses on his face after they deepen the kiss, he's intent and confused by how good this feels, how little like kindness this is for him as soon as their lips touch. Like we will see later, he just kind of mind-blanks and forgets what is happening.

Whatever he thought they were has just crumbled with this kiss, and he leans his forehead against hers, no awkwardness when there is such tenderness. which is why he's so shook when she whispers "thank you", and rushes off. he's like "wait why is she thanking me? where am I? weren't we doing something here?" The hopeful strings as it focuses on his dumbstruck face, the earth literally shifting under his feet in that moment. UNREAL.

THE DREAM: I won't say a lot about the dream sequence but I just had to throw it in here because it shows how aligned they are romantically. They are both HUGE romantics, and he has orchestrated this sort of do-over kiss where he's really going for it and proving to her that he wants this too, he wants her. And she's enjoying herself, clearly, which we know is something Colin wants more than anything. It's a great way to show his inner feelings with the lack of an inner monologue that a book brings. And this is clearly a sort of parody of Bridgerton itself, or at least the books. It's over the top, a little silly, and exactly what we all want to see.

This dream also isn't just ripping off clothes, it's emotional, a key element is him expressing how he's been thinking about her, consumed by her. This kiss also isn't as innocent and patient as the first kiss, and it's full of Reciprocation, she can't stop thinking about him either. AND NEITHER CAN I!!!

Both of these kiss scenes also set up our contrasting feelings, where Pen views their first kiss as an end of a dream, a bittersweet act to finally let go off him, the dream of him. And then his dream shows the opposite, how she's ignited something in him that begins his dream of her, awake and asleep. Dream-swap! Also the hand on the wall behind her to catch her from hitting the wall. no comment.

1. Carriage Scene

Yeah like what can I say! It's incredible! I honestly have no idea how they can top this scene, but honestly if this is the best love scene they share in the season I am 10000% content. All of my little qualms with how they did the season melt away when I watch this scene because this was what was crucial to nail and they NAILED IT. TO THE WALL BABY. YAY.

And how did he gain access to the carriage (and Penelope)?? by saying please!! we love the magic word!! I do like the confession a lot, especially the "what if I did have feelings for you?" and the way he gets to his KNEES, a truly inspired moment.

How he completely dies inside when she says they are friends, and still accepts it with grace. There were SO many obstacles to him expressing his feelings to her this night, and he just red rovered each one, and we are all very grateful.

Something about this scene is just built different, I like a lot of the love scenes in the show, but this one has some kind of secret ingredient that we didn't know we'd been missing. Maybe its the location, the context, the way they are just grasping at each other desperately (which if you think about how Penelope thought this was a one time thing in the books and she wanted to make the most of it, actually don't think about that)

He's also just so sweet about it, he's not angry, or insistent, he's just honest and intent. and she's just bewildered and INTO IT.

The lightning is gorgeous, the way it looks like Penelope is catching on fire and glowing. the catharsis, the giving into passion. The way she smiles like her dreams are coming true (because they are) before he just completely attacks her. What else can I say but EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

so many of the kisses are so tender and gentle, and they just build and build and build in intensity as they get lost in each other.

on a more horny note, so many moments here actually make me physically roll my eyes back in my head with how insane they make me. The desperate boob grab, the consensual nod, the way his hand slips under her dress, they were truly so insane for this. something tells me they knew I've waited literal years for this, so they knew they had to make it good.

Someone said Nicola should get an Emmy nom for moans, and she should, somehow they don't come across as cartoonish at all, and it doesn't take me out of the scene like some "noise making" does in these types of scenes. and for the record I'm not jealous at all, of either of them. in fact, no sooner did my head hit the pillow that I was met with complete and total darkness....not even a dream....

Like everything I could say has already been said, but it was so much better than I thought it was going to be, blew my expectations out of the water and DELIVERED. and DEVOURED. and RUINED ME. AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL.

Anyway that's all, I'm very afraid for part two so I needed some escapism, why am I already nostalgic for the good ol' times when Polin was happy for 6 minutes. thanks for reading! <3

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 || billy knight x nurse!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || during his time in hospital, billy couldn't help but fancy the sweet but headstrong american nurse taking care of him. it would've been harmless if it weren't for your own growing crush on your patient: the quiet, gentle man with those brown eyes that made your heart flutter when he looked at you like that.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 9.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ ONLY!!, male masturbation and brief oral m receiving), medical ethics violation so kinda dubious consent but trust me it is very much wanted, fluff, some angst, touchstarved billy, american reader, mentions/discussions of psychosis and other psychotic patients, brief mentions of SA, hopeless romantic billy, yeah just lots of sweetness with some filth in the middle

"It's important that you stay calm."

That was what made him look at you, scared and confused, before he seemed to finally notice the hand you'd laid on his shoulder to try to soothe him: that was always a risk, touching them without permission, but he'd woken up with a start and been so clearly upset and disoriented, you didn't know what else to do.

Thankfully, as he looked at your hand on him, he stilled, hesitantly leaning back onto the propped-up bed.  The doctors thought it would be better for him if the bed was partially upright while he began to exit his coma, preventing too much blood pooling near the wound at his chest.

You took your hand away as he stilled, and he looked around the white-and-beige room.  "Where am I?" he asked.

"Saint Anne's, South London," you answered.  He raised an eyebrow at you and you figured why he asked.

"Did you think you'd somehow woken up in America?  Because of my accent?" you snorted.

He blinked self-consciously; "Err— I guess not."

"You wouldn't be the first," you assured him.

"What's an American nurse doing in London anyway?" he wondered.

"Not much," you shrugged, "just healing the sick, feeding the hungry— generally being a saint."

He smirked a bit, and you smiled at him in return.

“I’ll be your day nurse while you’re here,” you explained, “so if you need something, you can press this button here— and it’ll be me that comes, most of the time, if I’m not too busy and have to send somebody else.  Anything you need, I’ll do my best to help you, alright?”

A moment’s hesitation was followed by a nod, and he seemed too nervous to even look right at you— he would take these little glances over you, then up at your face, then back down to his bed again.  He wiped his fist under his nose quickly.

“William, is it?”

“Erm, Billy,” he corrected.  “Jus’ Billy.”

He cleared his throat dryly as his voice cracked, and you tilted your head.  “Would you like some water?”

He nodded again, and thankfully you already had a cup of chilled water ready for him— the big kind with a handle and straw, and markings on the side so you could monitor how well he was hydrating.  You picked it up and held it for him, guiding the bendy straw to his chapped lips so he could drink.

You knew already what kind of patient he’d be— the kind who didn’t like to ask you for anything, so you had to figure it out on your own.  There were definitely more like that here than back in America where you’d first started nursing; patients in the States seemed to have a much easier time asking for what they needed.  Here, there was usually some rigamarole to get them to admit they needed something— unless what they needed was painkillers, everyone’s pretty vocal about that.

“Is that better?” you asked quietly as you took the cup away, and Billy swallowed as he nodded.  “I’ll set it here where you can reach it, just be careful with that IV,” you explained.  “How’s your pain?  Is your chest hurting you?”

“N-no, it’s fine,” he promised, “can’t feel a thing… I’m guessing that won’t last long, though.”

You nodded in agreement.  “They’ve still got you on the good stuff.  They’ll switch you to Tylenol by the end of the day,” you explained.

“Afraid I’ll become an addict?” he assumed.

“Not quite,” you chuckled, “afraid you’ll get too constipated— side effect of the morphine.”

Billy choked, face turning a little pinker.  “O-oh.”

You only rolled your eyes in amusement as you turned around to fiddle with one of his monitors.  Patients, and Brits, were pretty shy by your standards; you preferred to be brutally honest, because there isn’t much need for prudishness in a mental ward.  “If your heart rate gets too high, or too low, it’ll page me,” you explained.  “Anything else, press this button here and I’ll be on my way— got it?”

“Yeah,” Billy hummed, “thanks.”

“Oh, don’t thank me,” you dismissed, “it’s just my job, and I love it.  I’ll be back to check on you later, but Nurse Tilly’s bringing you lunch at noon.  You’re not vegetarian, are you?”  He shook his head.  “Great!  Do you want the TV on?  Oh, uh, the telly, I mean…”

He shook his head again, and you nodded, leaving the remote on his bedside table in case he changed his mind.  You could feel his eyes on you as you left, somehow, and his image was still in your mind as you shut the door behind you.  Even as you went about the rest of your shift, checking in on your old patients and meeting some new ones, Billy in room 3041 was in your thoughts.

You didn’t know too much about the circumstances that brought him to your hospital— no one did, because he’d refused to tell police or paramedics who stabbed him.  His chart gave a colorful history— psychotic breaks, episodes of delusion and paranoia, on and off medication for years— but his behavior was so… gentle.  And very few of the people you’d encountered in this line of work were dangerous, despite the harmful stereotypes; but Billy was even more delicate than the usual, even more reserved.  Maybe he’d brighten up a bit when he wasn’t freshly awake from surgery.

Shaking the thoughts of him away and trying to focus on work, you figured it was just a little infatuation with a handsome patient— happens to everyone, right?

//

It had taken quite the effort to get the woman to sit down— she’d been pacing and chewing her nails, and you finally convinced her that it would be better if she was sitting, and she did.  After dodging some questions and looking around at the space behind you as if something was there— which, yes, was kind of unsettling but something you got used to— she finally got on with it and told you why she’d come to the hospital.

"They've put wires in me," she whimpered.  

"I've never heard of that happening before," you admitted.  "I wasn't even sure if aliens are real…"

"They are," she insisted.  

"And how do you know there are wires in you?  Did you see them put in?" you asked.  If she said yes, you'd know her hallucinations were severe, but she shook her head; you took a note of that on her chart.

"I can feel them," she replied instead.  "I can feel the electricity.  They're making me like— like an antenna.  For their ships, y'see?  And it hurts."

Your heart twisted.  "That would be terrifying," you agreed, "and painful—"

"Please, someone's got to take their wires out," she begged.

"Hold on," you tried to soothe her, "I'll check for entry wounds first, okay?  To see if I can tell where they've put them in."

She shakily nodded, looking down at the floor where her feet shuffled around on fleck-patterned tile.

You carefully lifted her hands to examine her fingertips and wrists.  "I haven't seen anything yet," you offered her quietly.

"Th-they hide them," she explained, "so the doctors can't see."

"Tricky, those aliens," you frowned as you nodded thoughtfully.  "They don't want you to get any help, do they?"

She shook her head. 

"But we can help you," you promised.  "If we can't find the wires this way, we should do a CAT scan."

"What's tha'?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just a bunch of X-rays taken all at once," you explained.  "If there's anything metal in you, it'll right up.  They are metal wires, right?" 

She nodded, already seeming to soothe a little at the prospect of a surefire way to find the wires she was feeling inside her.  It made you feel better, too, that you could help her somehow just by listening.

"I'll have the doctors give you a thorough scan," you nodded with a smile, "and we can see what we find, okay?"

It seemed like a great idea at the time.  You started to question it now that it was a few hours later and Dr. Humphries was glaring down at you.

"You ordered a CAT scan for a woman with schizophrenic delusions?" he snapped, looking up from the chart and back at you with a red face and flared nostrils.

"Uh, well—" you started to defend yourself.

"She doesn't need an MRI, she needs to be fucking medicated!" the doctor spat at you. 

Straightening your back, you frowned as you took offense to his tone. "You think I don't know that?" you returned with just as much intensity as he'd thrown at you.  "She's not going to take any pills we give her if we don't take her seriously.  A CAT scan will take a half hour and it might give her some peace of mind."

"Believe it or not, nurse, the purpose of that million dollar machine is not 'peace of mind'."

"Don't you mean million pound?" you rolled your eyes.

"No— you're such a dolt, I know if I'd said that you'd've asked how I knew what it weighed," he sneered, all too proud of his wit no matter how minimal it was.

From inside his room, Billy watched the argument unfold; he couldn't hear much, but he could see you crossing your arms and puffing your cheeks and getting right back in the face of the man in the white coat while he barked at you.  Another nurse was tending to his linens, and she caught a judgemental glance of the spat outside before shaking her head.

"Quite American, isn't she?" the nurse scoffed.  "Can't back down from a fight— or keep her mouth shut, ever."

Billy smiled a little.  

"And she's got no clue how to make a cuppa, either," the nurse added, "can't even use a kettle.  Not sure how she plans to find a husband if she can't figure that out!"

Billy felt his chest warm, and not in the painful way he was used to with his healing wound.  He didn't think you'd have much trouble at all.

//

He could tell you were in a worse mood than usual when you came in— even though he could also tell you were trying to hide it.  “How are you feeling today?” you asked him, a little exasperation tinting your tone.

“Better,” he nodded.

“Not too much pain?  Any soreness?” you continued interviewing him, but his chest deflated a bit as he watched you go around the room without ever really looking at him— you were just going through the motions, he was just another patient.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, and it seemed to break you out of your trance.  You looked at him, and you looked tired— not something he’d tell you, because it would sound like he was saying you looked bad, which you didn’t.  You looked a little sad, really, in a breezy sort of way like you were trying to shake it off.

“Oh, I— I’m fine,” you promised.

"Is that doctor giving you trouble again?" he wondered.  The question seemed to catch you off guard, before you glanced down shyly and then over your shoulder at the window into the hall.  

"You saw that, huh?" you noticed.

"He seems like an arse," Billy decided.

"He's not so bad," you sighed, "he's really smart— problem is he knows it, and he thinks it makes him better than everyone.  Thinks us nurses are basically just maids, too, or secretaries.  I swear, if he walks into the break room one more time and asks where his tea is, I'm telling him it's in the fucking harbor."

Billy snorted at your comment, stammering through his next question.  "Don't have anything against Brits, do you?  'Cause you picked a bad place to live."

You sighed, stopping your work for a moment.  "Well… no, I don't.  But I do have a bone to pick, I guess.  I moved here for a guy— this amazing, too good to be true guy.  Thought we were gonna get married and stuff.  I only thought that 'cause he told me so!  But he, uh… he had a few of us going, actually.  I was the only one who moved this far to be with him.  But after I found out, I didn't have anywhere to live, and I can barely make rent as it is so I can't afford a ticket home… so, yeah.  Stranded across the pond.  Because of some fucking guy."

Billy shrunk a bit inside as he looked at you— he could tell you were trying to be casual and silly about it, to hide how much you were still hurting.  "We-we're not all like that," he blurted out, and you looked up.  He felt even more stupid for saying it now that you were looking at him.  "Englishmen," he clarified.

Your lips slowly curled into a smirk.  "Not all juggling a half-dozen girlfriends at once?" 

"Some of us are lucky to just get one!" Billy agreed, and you laughed.  Your laugh was fucking angelic, he thought; it made him want to jump right out of this blasted bed and hug you, as bizarre as that would be.  Ever since he saw you he imagined you'd be nice to hold, but every day it only got worse— and you were so pretty and sweet, you probably had every patient wrapped around your finger.  You probably thought he was another dirty, sick stranger; you probably thought he was work.  And he couldn't even blame you.

"I guess I'll have to give y'all another chance, then," you shrugged.  Y'all.  How quaint.

"You can probably get a lot of guys' attention with that accent," he suggested.  And that arse.  But he didn't say that.  

"I don't really want a lot of guys' attention," you sighed.  "Just the one."

"Which one?"

"The right one."

His heart hurt because he knew the feeling, the one he saw on your face, the one that made your eyes sparkle differently for a second.

"But I don't have much time for that anyways," you shifted topics quickly, "working all the time."

"Must be tough," he nodded.

"I like it, actually," you corrected, "I always keep busy.  And the people here…certainly keep me busy."

He felt a little self-conscious when you said that.  "Sorry," he mumbled.

"No, not you!" you clarified quickly, leaning closer and reaching out apologetically like you might touch him again.  He wanted you to, so badly, but you didn't.  "I mean the staff more than anything.  The patients are what make me want to come back every day, even the tough ones."

"Am I one of those?" he wondered.

"No," you smiled.  "Don't tell, but you're my favorite."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that— it only hurt him more because he wouldn't let himself believe it.  "Bet you see crazies like me all the time," he shrugged dismissively.  

"Crazies? Yeah," you laughed lightly.  "But I've never met anyone like you."

His face flushed briefly and he looked down at his lap under the white woven blanket.

A page startled you out of the moment.  "That's my cue," you hummed.  "Ring if you need me, please."

He nodded and watched you dart away as quickly as you'd arrived, wishing he could keep you here forever but knowing it was better to let you help the others, too.

//

“Knock knock!” you greeted as you leaned into room 3282 to see the patient gathering her things.  It had been a while since you saw her in street clothes— not since you’d admitted her and ordered that infamous CAT scan— and she looked so much better than she had then.  Her hair was brushed and she was smiling at you, visibly less disoriented even when she was just standing beside the bed.  “I’m glad I could catch you before you left— I came as soon as I heard you were discharged.”

“I feel like we’re sort of meeting for the first time, now,” she explained.  “You saw me a few times the past couple days, but I wasn’t really myself…”

You nodded in understanding, and she bit her lip for a second; you could tell she was getting a little self-conscious remembering how dysregulated she was.

“It felt so real,” she breathed shakily.  “I could feel them watching me…”

“I know,” you nodded.  “That’s how powerful our minds are— everything we know comes from that squishy pink brain, so if it gets the wrong idea, it’s gonna convince you to believe just about anything.”

“You must think I’m an idiot,” she decided, “to ever believe that.”

“Not at all!” you promised.  “Listen, Miss Dougherty— it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.  You came here for help, that’s what you should be proud of.”

She nodded, but didn’t seem to really believe you, looking down at the floor.

“Honestly, people believe all kinds of ridiculous bullshit,” you announced, and the crude language got her attention if nothing else.  “Far, far too many people think that the Earth is flat, or that the polio vaccine could cause autism, or that immigrants are somehow both lazy and stealing jobs— or that you can look like Kim Kardashian with just some tea from the internet and portion control.”

She laughed a bit, and you laughed too, even though you were perfectly serious.

“At least we can give you medication for believing what you did!  Those people just have to live with it, that’s the really sad thing.  You take one of these with breakfast every day and you can be normal,” you explained as you pointed at the bottle in her hand, “they’re stuck with whatever they’ve got.  You’re the lucky one.”

“Thank you,” she nodded.  “I’ve been to hospitals before— but you really listened, even when I didn’t make any sense.”

“Hey, it made sense to me,” you shrugged, “I’d’ve been scared, too.  Keep up with the prescription, okay?  Don’t wanna have to see you here again— no offense.”

She laughed in agreement; “I will.”

//

He was halfway through watching something terribly mediocre on the telly when you came in; he jumped up to grab his fork and try to pretend that he’d been eating his dinner, but he started to frown shyly as soon as he caught your disapproving look.  “Billy, you’ve barely eaten it,” you noticed; it was obvious, with three quarters of the chicken breast still on the plate and the green beans untouched.  “Didn’t she bring that an hour ago?”

“Erm…”

“Is it the medication?” you asked, quieter, stepping further into the room.  “It can suppress your appetite.”

“D-don’t make me change to something else,” he blurted out, “I like this one.  I can actually think straight.”

You smiled patiently, and he couldn’t even look at you while you did it— you were so fucking pretty when you smiled like that, it hurt to look at it.  “I won’t make you change medications just because you haven’t finished your chicken, Billy.”

“I was worried Dr. Humphries might—” he began, cutting himself off with a hum.  “He said he was worried about me eating enough on this one, and that he’d change it if I lost any weight— b-but I like it…”

“We’ll just tell him you didn’t like the chicken,” you decided.  “If I bring you an extra slice of cake, will you eat that?”

He had to fight his smile from getting too big.  “I can try.”

“Easier to get down than dry chicken, that’s for sure,” you winked, putting the plastic cover back over his plate and grabbing the tray to set aside somewhere else.  “What are you watching?”

“E-erm, some melodrama, I think.  She’s been cheating on her husband with his evil twin,” he explained, just as the advertisement ended and an inquisitive musical sting indicated the show was back on.

“Don’t you hate when that happens, huh?” you offered sarcastically.  Your eyes stayed on the screen as you sat down on the edge of the bed, right by his hip; his heart fluttered with you so close, the warmth of your body just one pesky bedsheet away.  “Mind if I watch it with you for a minute?”

“N-no,” he assured, voice thin and wavering as he tried to act natural.  “Stay as long as you like…”

Unfortunately, you were interrupted almost immediately as a male nurse swung the door open— Billy somehow felt like he’d been caught doing something bad, when he wasn’t really doing anything.  The nurse said your name and you perked up.  “Been looking all over for you,” the nurse said, with a tilted grin that seemed a little flirtatious— maybe any smile would seem flirtatious when you’ve got perfectly white and straight teeth like those, and sparkly blue eyes and perfectly quaffed hair— Jesus, was this guy a model or something?

Billy hated imagining you spending time with this guy, selfishly.  “S-sorry,” you mumbled as you stood up, “I was just taking Mr. Knight’s dinner tray.”

“Tilly can do that,” the other nurse dismissed with a shrug.

“But she’s busy,” you noticed.

“Could you come out here?” the man asked you, and when you turned over your shoulder, Billy gave you a quick wave as his way of approving your departure.  You smiled at him one more time as you followed your coworker into the hall, just outside Billy’s door.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you…” he heard the man’s voice continue, right before the door shut all the way.

Billy furrowed his brow and turned the volume on the telly down, hoping to hear the conversation better.  He could still barely make it out— and he was afraid if he muted the show, you’d notice.

“...since you came here, and actually, I was thinking—” he heard part of a sentence, but it sort of went in and out.  He couldn’t tell anything else for sure until he heard your voice again.

“I prefer to keep my work and personal life separate,” he heard you say, distinctly, and he couldn’t decide how to feel— excited, that you seemed to be turning his guy down for a date?  Or heartbroken that he would never have a shot with you because of this policy you held?

You never had a shot with her anyways, his inner voice told him.  Well, at least Mister Handsome Nurse Man didn’t either.  Misery loves company, or whatever.

//

It had been years since Billy felt something warm.  He was all too familiar with his hand, rough and shaky— all too familiar with using his imagination to get himself off.  Of course, back at his flat he had porn to ease the way, give him something to picture… here all he had was the telly in the corner and the unending thoughts of you you you.

Just the other day you'd leaned over his bed and he could smell your hair.  He wanted to hold your head and bury his nose in it, breathe the sweet scent of you.

Once he caught a quick glimpse down your shirt before he looked away, out of nervousness as much as gentlemanly discretion.  But he wasn't feeling so much a gentleman now, after waking up in the middle of the night from a dream of you in a more compromising position.

He'd never had an orgasm from a dream, only gotten hard and woken up unsatisfied.  There was a monitor clipped to his finger on his hand— so he took it off and moved it to the other, so he wouldn't have to worry about it or the IV while he did this.

He already had to bite his lip just from slipping his hand into the hospital-issue pants, just from wrapping some weak fingers around his aching cock.  He'd made a bad habit of wanking frequently at home— not much else to do when you're trapped and alone, and it was the only thing he liked doing just as much whether he was off his rocker, or semi-stable, or medicated.  Thankfully, he wasn't on the kind of medications that removed his libido: that, or his fancying of you was just that powerful.

The room was incredibly dark with the shades shut, only half the lights in the hallway on, but even then he couldn't make out any light except for the dots where the strings ran through the blinds.  He watched that window when his eyes were open, but sometimes he shut them— it didn't make much difference, either way all he saw was you.

As he jerked faster on his cock, letting his hand tighten occasionally, he pictured you climbing on the bed and straddling him, resting your hands on his chest (even though that would hurt).  Remembering your hand on his shoulder when he first woke up made it easier to imagine, but he couldn't even conjure up how you would feel inside, how your body would take him— he just had to think about how it would look.

He grunted your name to himself, shutting his eyes tight, trying so hard to think of the way you'd moan as your hips rocked above his.  He wanted to watch you as you picked up your pace, so desperate for pleasure that you couldn't slow down.  You'd be such a wild thing, he decided, just as brash and shameless in bed as you are at work— if not more.  

He would give anything to make you say his name in that exact way, that needy hungry way just like he mumbled your name now.  His hips were starting to rock up off the bed, and he imagined his skin clapping with yours as you moaned louder and louder.  As unrealistic as it was, he was imagining you showering him in praises, so good, Billy, you're so good, fuck! but he couldn't always get your accent right in his head. Please don't stop, god, just don't stop, need t'come—

"All yours," he answered you under his breath, "not gonna stop, feels so fucking good…"

And then he couldn't stop himself from imagining you admitting, in bed or otherwise, that you'd wanted this.  That you had thought of him the same way— fuck, what if you touched yourself, too?  That'd be too fucking rich.  Billy wasn't really sure if girls did that— obviously they did in porn, sometimes, but he knew a lot of that wasn't real.  He heard that most won't do anal, either, but that's different; touching yourself is more normal, more natural, and fuck how bloody natural you'd look on your back with your legs spread, rubbing your needy cunt, begging to be touched, desperate for a partner— for him, for Billy who could fill you so nicely and make you sound so pretty.

He was already so close, in part from having taken a few days off from this, mostly because the thought of you was making his cock fucking throb.

As he got closer and closer to the peak, his mind raced with images of you— but not in the poses of the girls in dirty magazines, not how he pictured you naked, no.  It was different.  The way you'd look in normal clothes, or dressed up for a date.  How it would feel to watch you sleep next to him as the sun's coming up through your bedroom window.  Not just his name on your lips in pleasure, but in casual conversation with others— my boyfriend, Billy— or in a cackling yelp as he made some joke you hated to laugh at, maybe while he tickled your ribs to see you smile— Billyyy, stop it!

Holding the back of your head while he kissed you, your little whimper as you tugged him closer because you needed more.  Putting a necklace on for you, hopefully one he'd bought or made for you, and touching the back of your neck.  Kissing you there— and everywhere— and hearing you hum with satisfaction.  Don't do that, we don't have time before— oh god, Billy, we'll be late if you do that… hm, okay, just a quick shag before dinner.  No wait— just a quick fuck before dinner— the American way.

The intimacy, which sex was only one of his favorite parts of, was what he was imagining.  Cuddling up on the sofa, sharing popcorn at the cinema, cooking for you… that's what he was imagining as he realised he was going to come.

He panted and squinted his eyes shut as he fucked his hand faster and faster, heart pumping hard and fast as well, hand shaky but determined as he chased pleasure right around the corner—

The door swung open and you burst in in a flash, running to his bed, but you stopped dead in your tracks as he pulled himself off— well, not in that sense, like he had been a half-second ago— rather, pulled his hand away and pulled the blankets up, scandalised and stammering.

"Oh, fuck m'sorry— I—" he began.

"N-no, I'm sorry," you insisted, looking down awkwardly, "I thought— your monitor, it was— I thought you were having a fucking heart attack."

His baking-hot face turned down sheepishly, and he noticed the thin sheet and blanket did nothing to hide his unsatisfied erection, the fabric clinging to every contour so you could see basically the whole thing.  He coughed and put his hands over himself atop the blankets.

"I should've knocked— but I was worried you needed immediate attention—" you explained hoarsely.

"I didn't know you were on tonight," he mumbled, like that mattered.  Not as if he wanted any other nurse running in on this.  But it was different, more shameful, knowing he'd just been getting off to the thought of you.

"Wasn't supposed to be, but someone asked me to— doesn't matter," you shook your head.  "Sorry to burst in on you…"

"I wasn't…" he began, questioning if he should say it but going on anyways.  "I wasn't doing… what you probably think I was."

"I-it's nothing I haven't seen before, Billy," you promised, seeming a little surprised, if not irritated, by his obvious lie.  "You're a free man, got every right to take care of yourself—"

"Don't—" he pleaded, before he interrupted himself with a mumbled, "Jesus…"

"I'll go," you decided, "and leave you to it—"

"Christ!" Billy added, almost as if he were just now finishing the curse.  "S'not like I could… do that now, is it?"

"Seems you've still got everything you need to do it," you smirked, and he choked.

"God, don't tease me, said m'sorry an' all," he pouted.

"Not teasing," you shrugged.  "It's natural, everybody does it."

Even you?  "Y-yeah, s'pose…"

"Not much else for you to do here anyway, stuck in bed… can't help if you get horny—"

"Not horny, okay?" he spat out suddenly, and defensively.  "M'just— god.  Just lonely."

He wouldn't normally admit something like that, but it was so late and his chest hurt in a sense totally unrelated to his wound.  

When he heard the door shut, he worried you'd just up and left.  How cold that would be, to leave him alone as he said how lonely he was.

He only knew you were still on this side of the door when you stepped up to his bedside again, your shoes clicking on the floor.

"You should go back to sleep," you noticed.  Then why'd you shut the door?

"I— even if I take care of it, I don't think I can," he admitted.  "Sometimes I have—"

"Nightmares," you finished.  "It's in your chart."

"Please stay," he whispered.  "It's easier with you here…"

"Sleeping, or…?"

"Sleeping!  God, sleeping," he coughed.  "I mean, both, but—"

"I can stay," you offered.

"That was the first good dream I've had in months," he told you, easier to confess these things in the dark.  "The one that made me… like that."

"Very good dream," you agreed with a smirk.

His oxygen monitor beeped softly behind it all.  "Y-yeah…" he mumbled.  "It was— well, I bet you know it was you."

"Oh— how would I know that?" you sighed.

"Because you must have been able to tell I'm proper mad about you," he explained, "aside from just mad."

"I… I wondered if you were," you replied, softer.  "I hoped you were."

Billy, unsure what to say, turned to look up at where he was sure your face was in the room— and he could barely see it, his eyes still readjusting from the door being opened.  Your features were softened when they were lit up in light blue by the monitors behind him.

"I came in here to take care of you," you promised with a whisper.  "It's my job.  Just tell me what you need."

"I need— god, I can't say it," he whined. 

"If you can't tell me, then show me."

Your hand rested for a second on his shoulder, and he couldn't stop himself from grabbing it.  After debating it for a moment, he pushed the blanket and sheet down again, and sighed with a wide open mouth as he guided your hand to his throbbing cock.  It bounced up into your fingers before he'd even finished putting it there, so needy for your attention, so greedy to be finished off after being brought up to the edge like that.  Billy had never had the patience or fortitude to tease himself, the closest he'd ever come to edging having been those times he was on a certain type of meds and could jerk off all day and never come. 

He had the exact opposite problem as he hesitantly let go of your hand and watched you do it yourself, slow and gentle brushes over him, almost reverent in the way you touched him where he needed you most.  He almost didn't want to let go of your hand, he wanted to keep holding it just for holding it's sake, but he wanted you to act on your own: to not feel trapped or forced.  You were so delicate about it— he was so worked up you absolutely didn't need to be that gentle, he probably would've still blown his load if you tried to tug the bloody thing off— and he could see in the dark how little sighs fell from your mouth as you stroked him.

"God, I'm not supposed to do this," you breathed.  "S'it sensitive?  Your heart rate's spiked again…"

"V-very," he murmured out.  "God, you're— god."

"Fuck— I'm really not supposed to do this," you repeated again.  "But I— I've been wanting to for a while… no one's gonna come in while I'm in here, but shit, if someone did…"

It would be a huge mess, for sure, but sort of hot.  Even better if it was somehow another patient who thought they were the only one with affections for you.  Even better if it was that nurse who was hitting on you.  "Never— fuck— wanked a patient before, right?"

You laughed.  "No, haven't given a hand job in years, actually— feels a bit high school, doesn't it?"

"Fuck, wouldn't know," he groaned.  He meant it both as in 'you wouldn't know because you're so good at this' and 'I wouldn't know because nobody was wanking me in high school'.  "Your hand f-feels good.  I-I don't deserve this, I definitely don't deserve this— pretty sure I'm dreaming actually—"

"No, it's real," you promised, "I know it's real, 'cause in my dreams I've never got my work uniform on."

"Y-you don't have your work uniform on in my dreams, either," he joked.

How desperately he wanted to reach out and touch you with one of his hands— it didn't even need to be somewhere scandalous, though he wouldn't mind a chance to feel you up under your shirt.  Even just to hold onto your hip, or even to hold your hand, would be so perfect right now.  But he didn't want to take this too far and ruin it.  It was already too good to be true.

"F-fuck," he sighed as your hand twisted gently when it reached the ridge of his head.  He couldn't remember the last time anything felt this good, just being touched by you.

"Like this?" you asked in a meek voice— how precious, you asking him how he wanted you to wank him.  Even just you asking made his toes curl under the blanket.

"Yes," he hissed, "l-like that… little slower, maybe?"

You followed his command, and his chest reverberated a groan.  He liked it best like this, savouring every second— normally he'd just be beating himself off senselessly by now, desperate to come, chasing pleasure with reckless abandon.  But this was so different, and he never wanted it to end, even if his balls were tight and aching with the need to release what he'd been holding in for much too long.

"I… I can't believe this is happening," he blurted out as he watched with better-adjusted eyes your movements in the dark.  Your pretty, tender hand squeezing his swollen tip, giving his whole length nice, long strokes.  

It was incredible enough, then you pulled your hand away— and he was about to whine pathetically, beg you not to stop, he even thrusted his hips up in the air in search of more— and spit in your palm quickly before getting back to it.

"Oh god," Billy moaned, his head falling back on his pillow as your hand smeared your saliva all along his hot skin.  Your strokes were smoother now, and you could grip him tighter without tugging the skin the wrong way— and he couldn't stop fucking moaning, couldn't stop himself from trying to buck his hips up and fuck your hand.  The sensation was incredible, but the raunchiness of it was what really did him in.  Spitting in your hand so you could jerk him off better, really giving him the proper treatment; his whole body was sort of overheated and numb at the idea that you cared so much about doing this right.  With a dry hand it felt more like you were doing him a favor, but after doing that he was sure you wanted this for your own reasons.  He couldn't imagine what those would be, but he dared not question them.

"How's that feel?" you asked, almost clinical in your tone, the same way you'd asked when helping him stand up or after giving a fresh dose of painkillers.  And yes, he had imagined something like this when you asked him that before, so good to know he was on the right track.

It was sort of silly that you asked when he couldn't stop moaning and writhing in the bed, but he nodded as he answered: "R-really fucking good.  You're so good…"

He heard you hum a bit, a tiny pleased laugh, and he whined pathetically.  You seemed to be revelling in how little you could do to him to make him so desperate.

"So good," he said again under his breath, cock pulsing in your grip.  He was so close but he couldn't let it go yet, he couldn't finish now and just have you clean him up and go: he'd fight it off all night if it meant keeping you here, feeling you, being pleasured by you this way.

"I— I'll get fired if they catch me," you reminded him.  "But I just— sorry, I've been wondering about your cock for a while."

Jesus, she keeps saying things like that and I'll lose it in a second.

"And it's bigger than I thought."

Jesus!  He screwed his eyes shut tight in hopes of staving it off further— he didn't want this to end, you'd just barely started.

"I'm so fucked, fuck, might as well— oh god, you know the saying, right?" you prompted.  "In for a penny—"

"In for a p— oh, fuck, fuck!"

You'd bent down and captured him in your mouth, still stroking at the base with your hand but bobbing your head on the rest.

"Baby," he whined, bucking up into that perfect wet heat encompassing him, "baby, I'll come, god, I'm so sorry— I'll fucking come—"

You hummed around him.  You didn't even stop, didn't even flinch, as he began to spray his come on your tongue.  He grabbed your head and tilted his own back with a loud moan— dangerously loud— as his whole body seized up for a second.  Each wave of it seemed to hit harder than the last, especially when you sunk your lips down further and he could feel you swallowing it, god you were so sweet and you acted like a proper slut given the chance.  He couldn't have made you more perfect if he built you himself.

"Oh, fuck," he sobbed, looking down at you in the dark again, petting your hair, keeping you there just a bit longer as he basked in the warmth of your mouth.  Drool was sliding down his cock and balls in droplets, maybe some of it was his come you hadn't gotten down.  "Fucking perfect," he blurted out.

He felt you smile slightly around him, before you carefully slid your mouth off of his cock and popped back upright again.  "There you go," you said chipperly as if you'd just tied his shoes for him or something— not like you'd just given him his first non-self-induced orgasm in years and easily one of the best of his life, with only your hand and a couple seconds of a blow job.

"I— fuck," he choked, "you— thank you, I— oh my god… I'm sorry, I—"

"Sorry?" you repeated.  "What for?"

"Just— dunno, m'sorry, if I made you think you had to do that…"

"Well I had to do something to get you back to sleep," you joked, making his face heat up even more.  "Of course I didn't have to— actually, I think it might be, um, illegal, so… don't tell, I guess."

As if he could even imagine doing anything that would interfere with the chance it could happen again.  He had no idea if it would happen again either way— but he didn't care, he was still riding the high from it happening at all.  "I— I tried not to come that fast, but your mouth—" he began awkwardly.

"It's sexy," you promised.  "It's cute."

He blinked bashfully, as if he had any right to be bashful now.  "You're sexy," he returned, "really, really sexy, god.  You know how many guys' fantasies you just fulfilled?"

"Not interested in many guys' fantasies," you quipped.  "Just the one."

He beamed.  "Which one?"

"C'mon, Billy, I just swallowed your jizz, don't be coy with me," you frowned.

"S-sorry…"

You leaned down and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek.  "I've gotta get back to work—"

He grabbed your head and forced a kiss on your mouth, hungrily slipping his tongue between your lips and groaning as you relaxed your jaw to let him in.  

He hadn't kissed like this in ages, either, and the last girl he'd managed to go home with after some pub crawling hadn't even kissed him at all; he groaned against your mouth as he moved his hands from your face to your neck, your waist, your back… anywhere he could reach, he wanted to touch you.

He got lost in it instantly, you had to push pretty hard on his shoulders to peel him off, and he cleared his throat nervously.  "S-sorry," he said again, "I— I just had to kiss you, sorry."

"Even after that?" you chuckled.

"Especially after that."

"Even with the, you know, taste?"

"Oh," Billy smiled, "so that's what that funny flavour is…"

"You never tasted it before?" you realised.

"No," he frowned, "why would I?"

"I dunno— I've tasted mine," you shrugged.

"Oh— Christ," Billy choked.  He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to stop imagining you pulling two fingers out of your cunt after using them to make yourself come, bringing them to your slack lips and kitten-licking the cream off your hand…

"Really gotta get back to work now," you insisted, "try to get some rest—"

"Wait," he begged as he grabbed your wrist.  "Stay a little longer— we can just talk, if you want— I should return the favour though, shouldn't I?  Are you, erm… are you turned on at all after that?  If you stay I can help you, too— you can get in the bed with me and I'll make love to you—"

You snorted out a laugh.  "We don't have time for that, Billy, I've already been in here too long, there are other patients—"

"Don't go yet," he insisted again, squeezing your hand in his.

"What more do you need?" you asked, and the question made his heart jump.

"Just some time with you," he explained.  "Just— was that— are we—?"

He stopped as you leaned in and kissed his face again— the side of his nose specifically— gently.  "I'll check on you again in the morning before I go, okay?"

He pouted a little, reaching up to hold your shoulders for a second, before nodding and relaxing back into his bed.

You tucked him in carefully and encouraged him once more to get some rest.  "I'll be back just before shift change at seven," you assured.

He fell asleep so quickly, so exhausted even when his mind was wired, that it only felt like a few moments before he woke up again with a jump as the door opened.  He expected to see you come in, but he frowned at the back of Nurse Tilly, bringing the breakfast cart.  "Good morning, Mister Knight!" she greeted, and he sighed as he glanced up at the clock: 8:30.  He'd slept right through shift change.

"Morning," he greeted her flatly.

//

"I've got good news," the doctor smiled at Billy, tilting his head; somehow it almost seemed condescending.  "You're cleared for discharge.  You’ve healed well and you’re responding just how I’d hoped to the new medication.”

“But…” Billy started to protest.

“What’s the matter?” Dr. Humphries wondered.  

“Could I stay longer?”

“Erm, well… it’s a hospital, not a hotel, Mister Knight,” he frowned.  “What makes you want to stay?”

“I just— is my nurse here?” Billy asked instead.

“Which one?” the doctor asked before seeming to realise something.  “The American?!”

“Err…”

Dr. Humphries scoffed quickly.  “She’s just had a twenty four hour shift, she won’t be back until Thursday.  You certainly can’t be here another two nights with no medical need for hospitalisation.  I’m guessing you’d hoped to say goodbye?”

“Yeah,” Billy nodded.

“And you were hoping to ask her on a date as well, I presume?”

Billy choked, glancing self-consciously at the other nurses present— one of which was the handsome male one from before.  That face had a sort of sneer on it— subtle, but noticeable— as if to say yeah, good luck with that, mate.  “I— I just wanted to thank her,” Billy lied.  He honestly hadn’t been sure if he’d ever get the courage to ask you out, but now he’d never know.

“I’ll pass along the message for you,” the doctor offered, though he didn’t sound too enthused about it.

//

Google, delete history, chew nails, repeat.  illegal for a nurse to have sex with patient, can you lose your nursing licence for sexual contact at work, is masturbating a mental patient crime UK...

The search results were a mix of inconclusive and unencouraging.  They kept talking about why you shouldn’t have sex with patients— as if you didn’t know— but rarely clarified the exact consequences of your exact situation.  You didn’t know if the hand job counted as sex, anyways, or if it really mattered since you were both consenting adults of sound mind (well, some not quite as sound as others, but still), or if this rule really only applied to doctors who had a genuine power over patients in a way nurses didn’t exactly— they just gave more and more scoldings to anyone considering ‘beginning a relationship’ with a patient.  They gave examples that were obviously violations— like a doctor who was tried for sexual assault after convincing a patient that an invasive physical exam was necessary when it was actually elective and not related to their condition, or a nurse who was fired after touching an unconscious patient, stuff like that.  Billy had wanted you to touch him, that much you knew, he put your hand there himself; god, just the memory made you shiver, and you shook your head as you cleared your history again.  There was no real chance anyone would see what you’d been searching up, but the shame that burned in your gut every time you saw your own history was worth avoiding.

The really concerning thing was how little, after all that Googling, you actually regretted it.  Yes, you were fully aware at the time how risky it was, why it was a bad idea, what would happen if you were caught.  But for all this searching up about nurses and patients, it didn’t feel like that at all… it just felt like two people with a basic human instinct surrounded by insanely complicated circumstances.  

It wasn’t like you at all, either, and not just because you’d never made an advance on a patient before: that was obvious.  You usually didn’t do that much even with your actual dates, even with guys you’d met under exactly the right conditions.  Usually, a hand on yours guiding you there would make you shudder and jump away; usually, you wouldn’t even think to touch somebody like that on the first date.  You hadn’t even gone on one date with Billy, though the amount of time you spent imagining it was almost like you were trying to delude yourself into thinking you had.

You’d been daydreaming more and more since you met him about that sort of thing, about what it would be like if you met in some random way after he was discharged from some other hospital, one of those cute ways like in the movies where he helps you get something from the top shelf at the grocery store or you find his lost dog or he just sees you on the street and has to tell you that he thinks you’re beautiful—

Groaning, you shut your laptop and stood up; you were gonna be late for work if you kept torturing yourself with these fantasies.  

// 

Oh god, I’m actually mental— more than usual, he realised as he stood there, holding the pathetic arrangement of cheap daisies; the plastic around them crinkled as he relaxed his grip slightly from the sadness sinking in his gut.  She does me a favour, takes care of me for nearly a week and wanks me off once and I start stalking her— she’ll think I’m a creep.

He’d been waiting all morning by one of the entrances to the ward, hoping to catch you as you walked back in to work on Thursday, but as the hours passed he became more aware of how disturbing his behaviour really was.  You probably knew you wouldn’t see him again when you did that, that was probably why you did it— so you wouldn’t have to worry about exactly this happening, about him wanting more from you.  Hadn’t he taken enough?

Slumping his shoulders, he stood up from the bench and contemplated what to do with the flowers.  He was about to toss them away when he saw someone exit the building, an older woman, crying into a handkerchief as she talked on the phone.  “He’s gone,” she informed whoever was on the other end of the line.  “They just told me— he went this morning.”  

“Ma’am?” he asked her, not quite getting her attention at first.  He stuck the flowers out towards her and she looked at him with a hint of confusion.  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“O-oh… thank you…” she breathed, and he nodded at her as he turned and stuffed his hands in his pockets on his way towards the car park.  “Y-yes, sorry, someone just gave me flowers…” she continued as she talked on the phone, harder to hear as he walked away, “no, I don’t know him— some man outside the hospital— they’re daisies…”

He smiled a little to himself as he hopped across the street, jaywalking in a break between cars zipping by.  He’d nearly turned the corner when he heard your voice.

“Billy?” you noticed him, smiling wide as he turned to look at you, standing on the street— walking to work, apparently.  You were wearing your uniform already, and he’d almost missed it, even with how much he’d been dreaming about seeing you any other way.

“O-oh, erm, hi,” he stammered, wondering if he should pretend it was a coincidence he ran into you.

“You’re… you’ve got jeans on!” you noticed, and he looked down at his outfit— just the aforementioned jeans and an old t-shirt, with his hoodie on top for the chilly weather.

“Not much of an improvement from what you’re used to,” he mumbled nervously, rocking back on his heels.

“No, you look good,” you insisted.  “H-healthy, I mean— maybe I shouldn’t have said that, it could sound… forward.”

“Forward?” he repeated.

“Well, I was hoping to talk to you today,” you admitted, chewing the inside of your cheek.  Oh god, I’ve heard this talk before— ‘I like to keep my work and personal life separate’.  “I wanted to apologize.”

“Eh?”

“I shouldn’t— we can’t— I’m sorry,” you started over a few times, “if I exploited any… dynamic, that we had.  I don’t want you to think that because I’m your nurse, you couldn’t say— that you can’t say ‘no’ to me.”

“You’re not my nurse anymore,” he noticed, “I’m not a patient— I’m…”

He wanted to say it quickly, before he lost the courage, but with you staring at him expectantly he couldn’t keep his thoughts in order and he sort of just spit it out all at once.

“I’mjustsomeblokewhocan’tstopthinkingaboutyou,” he rushed.

“Huh?” you frowned, understandably unable to parse what he’d said.

“Oh, Christ,” he groaned, “doesn’t matter— y’don’t need to apologise, i-if anything I was gonna thank you again.”

“Well, you don’t need to do that, either,” you mumbled quietly, a shy smile crossing your face.  “We’ll call it even.  You got a happy ending and I get to keep my job.”

“Not quite even,” he recalled, face getting warm as he pictured exactly what he’d have to do to make what happened that night completely fair.  “I want something else.”

“Oh…?” you wondered, tilting your head.

“Your number, maybe?” he finally asked, heart pumping dangerously fast, and you smiled.

“Okay,” you agreed.

“A-and I could call you sometime.”

“Okay,” you repeated.

“And ask you to dinner.”

You smiled wider.  “Okay.”

“O-or I could just ask you now…”

“Okay,” you laughed.

“But maybe I should wait!” he decided suddenly.  “Maybe it’s better to do it later— I don’t know, I don’t do this very often…”

“I noticed,” you smirked, and he blinked at you shyly.

“I-I’m not totally helpless, y’know, I got you flowers,” he informed you proudly.

“You did?  Where are they?” you asked.

“E-erm, over there,” he pointed across the street, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion.  “I’ll get you different ones, better ones—”

“I don’t want flowers, Billy,” you replied, “I just want you to come pick me up when I get off today— my shift’s over at—”

“I know,” he interrupted with a beaming smile, “I’ll meet you by that door and we can go somewhere nice.”

“How about your flat?” you recommended.

“W-well… it’s not very nice…” he admitted, biting his lip as you stepped closer.

“I bet I’ll like it,” you purred, and he couldn’t resist the urge again— he grabbed your face and kissed you, way too needy and passionate for the seemingly-mundane situation here on the street by the hospital. But you hummed into it and kissed him back; he knew he couldn’t blame that first kiss on it being the middle of the night anymore, being all sleep-deprived and desperate, because he felt the exact same way at eight in the morning on a Thursday in the middle of the pavement.

Again, you had to push him back gently to cue him to stop, and he looked at you as your eyes fluttered open and your bitten lips smiled at him. 

“Not gonna run me late to work, are you?” you challenged.

“No,” he promised, “I-I really want to, but no.”

“That’s a shame,” you jokingly pouted as you lowered yourself from your tiptoes and started to cross the street.  “See you tonight!” you called as you went on your way, and he wanted to say something back— something smooth, but anything would do, really— but he just got mesmerised watching you go, knowing the next time he saw you would be for a date. 

He could hardly believe it was real, that he’d gotten this lucky, but he decided not to question that anymore and just accept whatever gift from the universe this was supposed to be.  He was almost tempted to just stand outside and wait for you for your entire shift, but he decided instead that he could at least go and pick out some new flowers for you, despite what you’d said about not wanting them… better safe than sorry.

[phr0gg13]

Rescue Mission

Octavian x Gn!Reader

Summary: As the newly appointed praetorian the reader must deal with Octavian and his habit of stealing campers stuffed animals.

This can be read as a platonic or romantic fic! No use of (Y/N) and readers gender is never mentioned!

After Jason had disappeared Reyna was in dire need of a new Praetorian… So here you were, filling in some big shoes that were left for you. Little did you know that being Praetorian was like babysitting hundreds of kids who all had issues. Demigods deserved to have free therapy… Yet your favorite person to babysit was the Augur Octavian. He seemed to always invite some sort of problems, whether he decided to be mean to the fifth cohort or he stole some campers stuffed animal and offered it to the gods. Reyna had basically made you his full-time handler. Which is why you are making your way to the apollo shrine, to try and take back a few stuffed animals he had recently stolen. Hopefully you can make it before the poor things are totally destroyed. Another part of the job has been collected the carcasses of the stuffed animals and trying to sew them back together.

As you entered the shrine you could see Octavian. He had ditched the toga today and just wore his camp shirt and some dark wash jeans. You cleared your throat.

“Hey…”

Octavian looked behind him and sneered at you. “What do you want?” Clearly he had not been expecting to get caught so soon again. You walked closer to him and narrowed your eyes. “I have a trade offer for you…” He turned around and it gave you time to see that the stuffed animals were not harmed yet… He scoffed as he examined you. “A trade offer?” “Yep… You stop stealing campers stuffed animals and the praetorians will supply you with new ones instead.” You smiled at him as he thought about the offer. “Do I get one whenever I want…?” He asked quietly as he looked into your eyes. You shook your head softly. “We dont have that kind of budget… Youll get one each week… Even that took alot of convincing for Reyna…”

He looked at you like you had two heads. “You were the one to bring it up to Reyna?” He asked softly as his eyes turned from their usual cold and callous look to a softer, confused expression. “Yes… It wouldnt be fair if you werent allowed to do your offerings but you need to stop stealing the campers stuff…” You walked closer, keeping your hands behind your back. “I am getting a bit tired of fetching stuffed animals, especially sewing them back together.” You said with a soft smile.

He let out a scoff that sounded more like a laugh. “You sewed them back together?” You nodded your head and shrugged your shoulders. “Im like the best Praetorian huh?” You grinned, he only rolled his eyes at you and then turned to look back at the shrine with the still intact stuffed animals. “Okay… I accept your offer” A smile came to your face as you hummed. “Good… I have a little present.” This made Octavian turn with his eyebrows raised. “A present…?” You nodded and smiled at him. “Yeah… Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” This made him give you a look that said ‘You cant be serious’, though when you didnt say anything he sighed and did as you asked. Taking your hands from behind your back you placed a stuffed rabbit, you had been carrying, in his hands. His eyes opened once he felt the contact of the fur. “Surprise!” You said with a grin as you studied his expression. “I… Thank you…” He said softly as he looked down at the stuffed rabbit. You hummed and walked closer to the shrine, you started to round up all the campers stuffies, there was about four. “I figured you probably wanted to do an offering today, so now you can…”

He just starred at the rabbit and hummed softly. “Yeah… Thank you.” Holding all the campers stolen plushies you smiled. “Anytime. I gotta go return these now.” Octavian only nodded as he briefly looked up to you. You then started to leave the shrine. Octavian watched you with his lips formed into a tight line. He didnt understand this feeling he had… Feelings, there were multiple, all confusing and different. He looked back down to the stuffed animal and sigh. Mentally apologizing to his dad as he left the shrine. He went to his cabin and set down the rabbit on his bed. There it sat, undisturbed and intact.

[nautilusgays]

Amnesia AU drabble:

Somehow Nemo hits his head badly, maybe during ramming something or fixing the blade and it restarted unexpectedly.

Obviously, Aronnax is called out of his room by a crewman to an unconscious Nemo with a scary injury. He is so focused on stemming the bleeding and assessing the damage he doesn't register that at least three crewmen have been speaking to him in fluent French the entire time until hours later. A problem for Future Pierre he mutters.

Nemo spends days slowly coming in and out of consciousness. Every time he wakes Pierre is there, he's taken to sleeping with the connecting door open or on a chair, to feed him and tend to his wounds.

There is only one issue, which Nemo is refusing to mention - lest it make him seem unfit for duty: he has no idea who Aronnax is.

Everyone else he knows, but not this kind, gentle man who has been caring for him, who's presence makes him feel warm and full. Trying to puzzle together context clues Nemo comes to a conclusion that surprises him:

Aronnax must be his romantic partner.

He didn't think he'd be in love again, but this man had everything he looked for and liked in a partner, and was clearly comfortable with physical contact, not to mention he was interacting and chatting in a friendly manner with the members of crew that had come to help him.

Once he reached the conclusion he begins to behave as a romantic partner.

The first time he calls Pierre "mon chéri" the man goes bright red and seems to swoon - Nemo is delighted at the cute reaction and it reinforces his assumption.

Nemo is confused why Pierre always turns his head when he moves to kiss him, so he only catches his cheek. The Professor talks of concussion and recovery. To Nemo those are not good enough reason to get a kiss from his beloved but clearly his man is a doctor and will not be swayed. This only convinces him even more: his wife, after all, had also been extremely smart and stubborn.

He calls him "mon chéri" in front of some of the crew, some of whom speak French, who are shook. Nemo assumes that, for some reason, he has been hiding their relationship - perhapse that is why Pierre seems so hesitant - and resolves to be more confident in showing him he's not ashamed in anyway.

Pierre is spending half his life tending to Nemo and the other half being incredibly flustered and confused by Nemo's behaviour. Hes worried about the extent of the brain injury, somehow Nemo has injured himself so badly he thinks he's in love with him! He talks to the crew, well at least those who know French or Latin, they just laugh and give cryptic responses or mutter 'finally' while walking away.

Nemo has now been freed from bed rest and he is being an unintentional menace to Pierre who's poor heart can't take it anymore. Having unrequited affections for the Captain had been bad enough, but being in love with a man who's injury was making him act romantically was even worse. Many nights Pierre would cry himself to sleep over the unfairness and pain this was causing him.

One day, Nemo finally manages to initiate a deeper kiss. At first Pierre kisses back, losing himself in something he wanted for so long, Nemo is relieved and kisses him deeper but then he finds himself an arms length from his partner, who is crying with kiss swollen lips.

"Captain, I have put up with this for too long. Your crew said I should be gentle with this news, but I, as your doctor, believe you are now well enough to hear this without it causing any complications to your injury: I am not your lover or partner or what ever you have convinced yourself I am. My complacency in allowing this continue for your health has brought me great pain. I hold deep affection for you but before your injury you were never interested and I accepted that. But this is too much. I know you are not hurting me intentionally but it is tearing me apart."

Nemo stands there. He doesn't realise he's crying till he feels a drop on his hand.

He asks his first mate for clarification. The man corroborates Pierre's Aronnax's story. When Nemo says he felt happy and warm when he looked at Pierre even before he knew who he was, his first mate looks at him kindly, "the professor was wrong about it being unrequited, but you always could put on a good mask when necessary."

Only a few hours after Pierre had returned to his cabin, locking both doors, there was a strong knock, 'please, Pierre, I know now.' he doesn't move from his position under the blankets. Nemo tries the handle, locked. He tries the one from his room, locked. Pierre thinks Nemo finally got the message when the door unlocks. Of course he had a second key.

As Nemo spills his heart to Aronnax more and more memories resurface and everything begins to click into place for him. The Professor notices as Nemo remembers, properly, who he is. Bracing himself for a rejection, perhapse even anger, he waits for Nemo to come to his conclusion.

"I have been in love with you for a while, but I was terrified."

As their eyes meet Aronnax barely has time to whisper, "for me, since we met." Before Nemo closes the gap between their lips.

Finally, everything was how it was supposed to be.

[heliza24]

I'm kind of confused about how you feel about Lydia, I didn't think there was anything negative about the portrayal. You say she was just there for a lore dump but the way I see it, she was talking about her own life, an adventure she'd been on before. I didn't see it as dismissing her as a character

The short answer is that there isn’t anything hugely wrong with that scene. But because it’s the only real scene we’ve gotten with her so far, and because she is the most developed physically disabled character in all of D20, it is not enough.

To expand on that: Sure, she was telling the Bad Kids about her life and her previous adventures. But let’s think about why she was doing that in that moment. She was there because the Bad Kids needed to know more about her embedded crystal/metaphorical chronic illness in order to solve their own personal mysteries. She is a (very) supporting character in their narrative. We don’t get to see her go on a character arc, or change, or learn more about her desires as a character. Her disability story, which is very interesting, is in the show only because it serves the story needs of the nondisabled PCs.

Now of course all stories need supporting characters/npcs, and I am happy some of them are disabled. The problem arises when there has never been a physically disabled PC in Dimension 20. So the only disability narrative we see is in service of nondisabled characters. The problem is not Lydia; the problem is that she is alone.

You might recognize this problem with other media and other marginalized groups. To use a kind of simple example, I spent a lot of my childhood frustrated that the only women seemingly allowed in fantasy or action movies were the romantic interests of male protagonists. These love interests existed to serve the story of their male counterpart (often by dying dramatically and sending the male protagonist on some kind of revenge quest). There are still plenty of movies and shows that follow these tropes, but it bothers me way less now in 2024 because we also have a ton of tv and movies with complex female protagonists. The abundance of representation is what has changed.

I think this problem is extra clear on Dimension 20 because they have gotten SO many chances to center a disabled narrative and have not. They get up to six protagonists every season, which is way more than most tv or movies get.

Compared to a lot of other pieces of media that try to add in disabled characters, Dimension 20 is doing a good job with Lydia. They haven’t hired a nondisabled actor to play her (super common in tv and movies unfortunately) and they’ve clearly worked with consultants on her. I really like, for instance, that her persistence with the crystal prevents her being magically cured, which is one of my least favorite tropes. However, there is a huge trend in Hollywood of hiring disabled consultants when they want to tell a disabled story but never actually hiring a disabled writer for a full time, credited writing gig in a writers room. The players on D20 are the writing room. Why has a disabled person never been invited there?

Imagine, for a second, that we got a Fantasy High prequel season. All the adults we know in Fantasy High are teens, and they’re PCs. Imagine a really talented performer, who uses a wheelchair, playing Lydia. Imagine the emotional scenes we would see! Imagine the insight into her psyche we would get, the way her relationship to the Crystal would be developed. That’s what the scene with Lydia in Junior Year made me long for.

(I do have some frustration about the way Kristen reacted to Lydia, and the way that fandom reacted to Kristen. I did find Kristen offering empathy to Lydia in the form of the help action sweet, but being nice to a disabled person doesn’t deserve outsized praise, because we are not objects of pity. I also think the way that Kristen touched Lydia’s neck without permission is reminiscent of the way many wheelchair users are touched and pushed without permission, which is very violating. I don’t think Kristen would have had that same reaction to Sandra Lynn, for instance. Kristen is really Going Through It right now, so I’m not particularly mad at her for doing that. But it is irritating to see fandom singing the praises of the help action without acknowledging the touching without consent that followed).

Thank you for the question! I appreciate the opportunity to have a dialogue about this.

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 17

Hello darlings!

It was another big week - 24 fics! I should really start sleeping at night instead of reading until 3 am.... oh well. Enjoy the fruits of my sleep disorder!

You can find the Spreadsheet in all it's organizational glory here and all of my previous recommendations here.

Recommendations below the pedro meme (created by @gasolinerainbowpuddles)

Ravish -a Joel series by @psychedelic-ink

I've read a few like... cam girl/chat service/sex work type AUs and I have to say this is one of my favorites. I really really love the little Dieter cameos. And a little birdie (the literal author) told me he may be making an appearance in a future installment??? I am so excited ugh. Joel is like... stunningly hot in this despite being the kind of guy that falls in love with a cam girl. Yummy yummy

Seven minutes in heaven (the bathroom) -a Frankie one shot by @tieronecrush

A fun twist on the bathroom quickie trope. Frankie is so filthy in this fic and it is fantastic. I really like the ending also. Made me giggle

A Savage Place - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

SUB JOEL MY BELOVED!!! This is one of those more realistic sub joels where he's confused as fuck about liking it, but he really clearly needs someone to take control for a little while. I really fucking love this so much. (there's pegging in part 2 @ my pegging enthusiasts <3 ) Reader is hot as hell, also. GOD I love this.

Whistle in the Dark - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Romantic cucking <3 No but okay the like basic plot is that your husband is a piece of shit who cheats on you so you like forcibly cuck him with Joel and Joel has feelings and it's sooooo hot and so good and like... affirming? and sweet? And your husband deserves to have his dick cut off bc he does something real fucked up, but having to watch Joel Miller dick his wife down GOOD is a start.

He hurt me but it felt like true love - a Joel one shot by @iamasaddie

Mean sexy Joel is pissy cause he found your dildo and he's gonna make that your problem. It's so hot. Vaginal DP????? GOD DAMN. Someone said DP isn't depraved a while back (eyeroll). They should read this. This is beautifully depraved

Feral Woman - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

This series has me feeling so many emotions. Watching FW/reader/Julia/Bug heal over time and learn to trust again is so fucking good. Susan is the light of my motherfuckin life I love that woman with all my heart. This series is GORGEOUS

Endless Night - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

yes i basically worked my way through Puddles' masterlist can you fucking blame me look at this shit. Anyway. EnNi reader/OC is, on the surface, the sunshine to Joel's grump. But the thing I love about her is that she's got this underlying darkness that adds so much depth to the grumpy x sunshine trope. I'm also eating up the borderline enemies to lovers dynamic going on here. Joel is such a dick lmao. I'm so excited for the rest of this fic.

All the good girls go to hell - an Ezra one shot by @psychedelic-ink

DUBCON with PRIEST EZRA yesssssss. The Haunted Hoedown is the gift that keeps on giving. This fic is so fucking HOT. Ezra as a priest seems so wrong and so right at the same time. This is excellent. I'd gladly go to hell for this man UNF.

Three's a crowd - a Marcus P/Javi P one shot by @agentmarcuspike

Marcus motherfuckin cute ass baby Pike watches Javier Peña fuck you. Yeah. Cucking Marcus Pike. That's what this is. Marcus is also characterized perfectly. Like this is so fucking cute actually. And it's really hot. obviously.

Begging for you to take my hand - a Joel series by @jupiter-soups

This fic is driving me up the wall in the best way. Joel is a big dumb idiot man who is like... not emotionally intelligent enough to realize he's in the wrong while trying to do what he perceives to be the "right thing." Here's what I commented verbatim on part 2 "Joel 'You Deserve Better Than Me' Miller back on his bullshit. I love this so much. Joel is so sad and so stupid i kinda wanna hit him." So if you're like me and you like to watch Joel be a sad little idiot who is also super hot.... this is the one

Refuge - a Joel series by @cool-iguana

GAH THIS IS SO GOOD!!! This fic really situates you in reader's head. Like you feel disoriented and frustrated and scared when she does and you feel like a powerful badass when she does and it's SO good. Basically in this one your husband joel shows up with some kid who is def not your kid in Jackson after you've been there for a hot minute and it's a big wtf moment. There's some other shit going on that I don't wanna spoil but like... this is so good. I know I keep saying that but GOT DAMN

Exposed - a Javi P one shot by @atticrissfinch

big fat dub con warning on this one. I so rarely see Javi written as a creep and I really fucking enjoyed it. I would like to humbly request more creep!professor!javi p

The Apprentice - a Dave York one shot by @pedropascalsx

This has like mafia!au vibes while not really being that, but what I mean by that is that the big bad murder daddy who you thought you'd be scared of saves you from murder father (ur dad). I really liked the characterization of Dave in this and the smut was HOT

Stockings - a Joel one shot by @atticrissfinch

Daddy kink daddy kink daddy kink. This is inspired by a photo that literally looks like denim shirt joel is helping you put your stockings on. This fic manages to be adorable and aggressively hot at the same time. I am in love.

Slumber - a Joel one shot by @cool-iguana

I love a good somno fic. also this is literally their 2nd fic they ever wrote and it's so good?! TALENT. There was a thing in this that caught me off guard bc I fully did not read the warnings, but I was not at all mad about it... HOT

Yearling - a Joel series by @justagalwhowrites

Holy motherfuckin shit balls dude. I'm noticing that I'm reading a lot of Reader-Who-Is-Extremely-Traumatized fics this week and I refuse to examine why that is but also they all have handled the heavy content very very well. Anyway. Reader is super duper good with horses and Joel is so soft and Ellie is so Ellie and I love all of this. I really love the way Kit builds the world in her fics. Like the opening chapter and then the way Bambi's back story is built up and the spaces that she exists in, they're all so vivid and good and real to me. I'm so fucking in love with the way Kit includes these details like reader singing and playing music, joel's coat, the light on in the house when Bambi is gone. It feels like nothing is there just to be there, like it's all important and it has a significant impact on the story and man... (also if you're worried about starting a longfic that's not finished, it updates like twice a fuckin week. Fast writer lol).

The Cabin in the Woods- a Dave York one shot by @xdaddysprincessxx

Getting kidnapped by Dave York and held in his cabin in the woods. Dark dark dark fic and so fucking well written. Love this <3

Isn't She a Doll? - a Dave York one shot by @proxima-writes

You are Dave's perfect little housewife and that is definitely the only thing going on here. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. (just read it)

Who do you call? - a Joel one shot by @chloeangelic

Your hot neighbor Joel helps you get rid of a spider! How sweet of him. Oh and then he rails you on the couch. I really love the way they have a whole conversation while they're fucking about how long it's been since they've fucked anyone. Chloe just has this wonderful way of infusing humor into really really hot fics that I adore

Does your mother know? - a Joel one shot by @cupofjoel

Another bathroom quickie for the rec list and god DAMN this one is hot. Close Family Friend!Joel (god I love putting this man in situations). There's something about being forced to stay quiet that just makes everything hotter.

Cellmate's Nephew!Joel - a Joel series by @toxicanonymity

JoJo is actually the love of my life. His tattoos, his voice, his dick print.... sigh. Can't wait to get out prison so this man can rail me on every available surface between the prison and Mabel's house.

The Man That I Love - a Joel series by @lumoverheaven

Joel is an idiot who doesn't know what he has until he almost loses it. The first part is heartwrenching and sad and I love it. The second part is wonderful and makes me tear up a lil

I said I didn't feel nothing, baby, but I lied - a Veracruz one shot by @iamasaddie

Veracruz is so hot. I swear that man could punch me in the face and I'd suck his dick for it (that is not healthy oops). This lovely little drabble is literally just you getting your ass spanked so raw you won't be able to sit for a week and it's HOT AS HELL

Creep - a Joel one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Joel Miller is your super hot creepy neighbor and he manages to get you to fuck him and that is definitely the only thing going on here. nothing fishy at all. nope. totally normal reader fucks her creepy neighbor fic. (just fucking trust me and read it ok?)

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

Happy Reading!

[maskofnova]

PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR SONURGE SHIP

Okay!! (So i am gonna bring up my Whispurge headcanon a tiny bit too just because they do go hand in hand for me, sorry lol. Just dont read past the dash if you dont care about it.)

The sonurge dynamic for me is kind of near entirely one sided as far as like actual romantic interest. Like for sonic its a case of wanting to challenge and tease her to keep her mind off things and rile her up in a friendly way. Maybe a little flirty but for him its nothing serious. He enjoys their banter and their rivalry is a fun one.

But for surge i think its a complete case of crossed wires. The internal battle with her programming that puts him in a place of fixation in her mind by default but now is fluctuating rapidly between “i hate him so fucking much” and “i think he’s clearly amazing and i think i like him”. But either way its a struggle with the thought that the only reason he’s on her mind this aggressively might just be because its what she was made to think about.

I don’t think sonic would know about this internal conflict for a hot minute since i think she wouldn’t explain until it peaked the boiling point but the second he figures out how deep this goes he wouldnt keep this going. Hes not an asshole like that so ultimately this is my Toxic Doomed Ship where they have to eventually keep distance anyway by the end.

Even still when its good i think its really good, its just never going to last without Surge having some kind of breakdown.

——————

Comparatively i think my whispurge headcanons also play on this rivalry dynamic between whisper and surge (definitely a more aggressive hands on one than the one with sonic. Fisticuffs followed periodically by adrenaline induced smoochin) but with those two its definitively, unquestionably a choice they’re both making of their own volition to interact like this. Even if it does carry some doubt or confusion on whispers part mostly about whether she really can trust Surge.

I think two commiserating aggro types can find some comfort with that and ultimately help each other be better than what they are by both of them having pretty tragic pasts they can relate to. (I think tangle and whispers dynamic is also extremely important but she could use another angle like that). Something i dont think Sonic is in a position to ever fully do. At least not until surge already gets all her shit sorted.

[lai-mar]

Can't wait till this blog is old enough so posts start showing in main tags, but for now, a salty lil rant

Shipping aside, I'm surprised by how Laios + Marcille even as friends doesn't get as much fan attention as I expected considering how heavily the series focuses on their development? I consider Laios to be the protag and Marcille to be the secondary protag but I can see the argument for the two of them being dual protags especially starting from around Thistle's house arc / Marcille becoming the dungeon lord. The protagonists are party members who bond over losing and finding a loved one. They save each other multiple times and live with each other in the end. They get copious amounts of screentime together and separate. They clearly care for each other and love each other (in whatever way). And there's no forced romance.

Before I read the manga, I saw all the yuri on my TL and was like YESSSSSS I'M READING THIS FOR THE YURI WOOOOOO and finished the Red Dragon anime episodes like "wow that was soooo good and gay. Let me go on Tumblr to see what people are talking about— people are shipping Marcille and LAIOS??? Probably annoying straight people who cannot conceptualize a friendship between a man and woman 🙄". So I started out with a squick for the ship. I think the fan perception made me believe F/M is canon and anything else would be like queer erasure? Except I later learned no ship is canon and was genuinely confused when the manga started giving us L/M crumbs (like the succubus chapter) because I thought the shippers were pulling this ship from thin air lmao.

The more I read, the more I was like.... "okay.... why are they kinda... okay I get it now... why am I.... oh shit... I'm really in it now" and I apologise because I really get it now 😭 and it baffles me to see people who have seemingly finished the manga going "Laios and Marcille have NO CHEMISTRY their only line of connection is through Falin". Like, okay, maybe that was how they were at the beginning (but I would argue they have chemistry even from the first few chapters), but that's the POINT and we get to see them evolve and get closer because they both love and miss Falin. Laios moves on from being "Falin's brother" and Marcille moves on from being "Falin's friend". L+M know about each other's deepest, subconscious desires. Marcille lives with the siblings at the end. No matter the bond, they are the two most precious people to her.

I was still squicky about romantic L/M even at the succubus chapter (which I know is probably the starting point for a lot of shippers) but THEN THE RABBIT CHAPTER. And after that when the Canaries found Marcille and she immediately jumped onto Laios I was like "Oh fuck. I'm really in this now fuck fuck FUCK". (Nothing makes me get into a dynamic more than having an initially squicky reaction because I'll need to have a strong enough conviction to overcome the squick LOL)

Anyways. Seeing people being annoying and pissy about L/M only made me like L/M more 🤡 because at least the shippers appreciate their bond. I'm a little desperate here. Even their platonic bond is kind of a rarepair in the English fandom 💀

I'm so glad the anime is going at the pace it is now because this is only the beginning of the L+M development!!!! The anime onlies will understand later!!! I made the same mistake and judged too early and I'm sorry!!!! So many anime L+M moments and panels and crumbs yet to be seen 🥺

Anyways. Laios and Marcille's bond is absolutely central to the plot and character development. But I wouldn't have guessed that if I didn't read the manga and just based it off fan attention.

[amethystina]

For the ask game, this question please.

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

This one is actually kind of tricky because it depends a lot on what character I'm writing and the circumstances they're in. Like, there are certain characters I feel closer to, or characters who have similar weaknesses and insecurities as I do, which means I'll react stronger whenever those are addressed.

But, overall, I'd say moments that involve a feeling of not being good enough, especially not being a good enough person or not being good enough for a relationship. And it doesn't have to be a romantic relationship — platonic or familial works too. Sometimes, that's even worse, in all honesty.

And that's probably because that's something I've struggled with myself. I had a couple of years during my mid-twenties when I was convinced I was an incredibly selfish and unkind person, simply because that was what I was being told by some of the people around me. We're talking full-on emotional abuse along the lines of: "you're a heartless, selfish bully and you're lucky I put up with you since you're such a terrible person."

And since it was from more than one person — and the people who disagreed didn't know about the abuse and therefore couldn't tell me it was bullshit — I believed them. Clearly, if more than one person tells you that you're not good enough — and those people don't actually know each other and can coordinate an attack — then it must be true, right?

So that kind of storyline always hits very close to home for me, because I know what it's like to genuinely think you're a terrible person who has nothing to contribute to the people around you. And I also know how difficult it can be to overcome, especially if you've lived with it for years. It's rough.

Fun fact: This abuse led to an existential crisis when I joined a Winteriron server on Discord (of all things) and I started talking to new people who, within literal days started challenging my perception of myself. I spent the first couple of weeks terrified of the moment people would stop talking to me because they'd figured out I was a bad person. But, spoiler alert — it never happened. Instead, they did the opposite, turning to me for advice and comfort, and telling me how kind I was.

And the whole thing came crumbling down, rather inconveniently, at 2 AM on my wedding night. Like, I legit asked my newly minted wife — who was trying to sleep — if I was a terrible person because, if I was, I figured she'd know. Or at least deserved to know, considering that she was now married to me. And her reaction was, to my confusion, not a confirmation but something along the lines of: "What the actual fuck? You're one of the kindest, most generous people I know. Why do you think I married you?"

It was, as they say, A Ride.

And my wife has now decided that any future existential crises must be scheduled between 7 AM and 11 PM because she needs her sleep, dammit.

(She's obviously lying — she'd listen even if it happened at 2 AM again)

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

[rendy-a]

I’d like to request Jade, forest, romantic 

I love your writing, I'm so glad I found your blog. I hope you're having a great day!

Thank you for the kind words!  I have only been writing for a few months and had worried my blog wouldn’t gain any traction.  So, to hear from people who are finding it and enjoying it is so wonderful.  My readers really make my day! So, thank you all!

You are cute as a button, Valentine.

You stared at the Valentine card, feeling a bit confused.  Jade watches you closely, observing your reaction with an interested smile.  “Is there a problem, Prefect?”  You jump slightly and look up.  “Oh, no.  I was just wondering why you drew mushrooms on the card.  It doesn’t match the poem at all.”  Jade puts one gloved hand to his chin, “Why, what do you mean?  These are clearly button mushrooms.  What a shame, Prefect, how will you pass your botany test without being able to identify the local flora?”

You feel a grimace set onto your lips.  You worriedly ask, “Do you think this will be on the test?”  Jade chuckles, “I do believe that was within the scope given to us, Prefect.  Do you find yourself unprepared for this?  Perhaps I can assist such a poor unfortunate soul and remedy this situation.”  Your grimace deepens.  At first, your intimidating classmate had made you rather apprehensive.  Over time, you’d gotten to know him better and recognize that he is, in fact, rather benevolent.  Only not for free.

“Ok, I give in.  What is this help going to cost me?” you ask him with a rueful smile.  “Why Prefect, you wound me to suggest,” Jade begins before you cut him off.  “I know, I know.  You are the soul of charity.  But if I was so moved by your compassion as to want to do something for you in return, what would that be?” you ask waving aside his crocodile tears.  Jade chuckles at how well you’ve managed to cut through his act and get to the point.  “Well I was planning to take a hike later this afternoon.  Alas, the Mountain Lovers Club has but one member.  How lonely it is hiking always by myself.”  At this, he puts his hand to his chin and lets his sharp-toothed grin show.

“Alright,” you begin, “It’s not like I was planning any romantic Valentine’s Day activities.  I’ll change into something suitable for hiking and meet you on Main Street after classes.”  You hadn’t intended to spend the day with Jade but honestly, it wasn’t sounding half-bad.  Nothing was worse than spending Valentine’s Day alone, so spending it on a fun activity with a friend had its own appeal.  Plus, there was something just so interesting about Jade; he was so knowledgeable about everything and, more importantly, he was never boring.

The climb was tiring but worth the effort.  Jade was an excellent guide, showing you various plants to sketch for your notes and telling you facts and details about them.  You felt like you were in good hands with him by your side, both on the trail and as a tutor.  As the elevation rose, the views became more and more breathtaking.  You were often stopped by the sight of the nearby town and forest as seen from high above.  Jade never hassled you to move faster but instead appears to enjoy watching you take in the sights; as though he gets more enjoyment from your awe than the scenery itself. 

You reach a bend in the trail and see that above you the greenery is thinning out.  After this point, there are probably no more forests and plants.  Jade sees you pause and asks, “Would you like to see some more interesting specimens instead of moving on?”  You smile back at him, pleased that he was able to read you so well.  Jade leads you off the trail and into the forest until you came upon an old decaying log, in the shadow of which a colony of mushrooms had grown.  You gasp and rush forward, “Look Jade, button mushrooms!”  You climb on the log and do a little pose, “What do you think, am I still cute as a button?”  You laugh at your own joke while Jade looks on amused at your lively antics.

Only, the rotten log wasn’t meant to hold the weight of human anymore.  As you stand happily upon your stage, a sudden Crack! sounds.  In a split second, your merry joy becomes a frantic flailing; your arms windmilling as you fall.  Jade moves suddenly, with all the speed of a striking eel and manages to catch you before you land on the ground and hurt yourself.  You cling to his chest as you pant, the adrenaline making your heart pound.

As you catch your breath, you gaze down and notice and unfortunate sight.  “Jade, the mushrooms…”  In the rush to catch you, Jade had trampled over the mushrooms he so loved.  “I’m so sorry.  If only I hadn’t been so reckless.”  Jade turns to you sharply and asks roughly, “Do you really think I don’t care for you more than some mushrooms?” 

When you had climbed the trail, you had felt a sense of altered perspective when seeing the familiar town from above.  What before had been glimpsed before only a piece at a time was made suddenly whole as it was laid out before your eyes.  You felt that same sense of perspective now, looking at Jade.  He had made no moves to resume his gentlemanly mask, instead leaving his expression unguarded, as you’ve never seen him before.  Suddenly, the paths and trails of his love were no longer glimpsed though small gestures but laid out before your eyes as clear as a map to his heart. 

“Jade.”  You speak his name softly, feeling as though you are saying it for the first time.  “I never knew.  How did I miss it?  All this time we could have been together, wasted.”  Jade carefully sets your feet back on the ground, “It was never wasted when we were together.  You must know that.”  You gaze into his eyes, “So where do we go from here?”  He smiles at you gently, “Well, you never did answer me about being my Valentine.”  You smile a beaming grin and throw your arms around his neck, “Jade Leech, will you be my Valentine?”  He never did reply but, from the way his lips captured yours, you assumed the answer was yes.

[realfangurlshit]

For the rafe x barry prompts: anything where rafe is jelous and angry. Like rafe walking into Barry’s trailer, like usual, expecting to find barry alone and ready to listen to him complain and rant about his life or whatever, but instead he’s with someone (maybe a girl) and they’re sitting too close on his couch. Maybe they aren’t even together yet but still, Barry’s his.

I finally got my shit together and wrote this yesterday at 1 am. You can see how I gave up in the end but I hope you like my take on it!!

Jealous

Rafe/Barry

Rafe parked his bike in front of Barry's trailer, tonight he needed a distraction, someone to take his mind off all the chaos in his life. Barry was always his go-to for that and he wouldn’t want to be with anybody else but him right now.

He barged into the trailer without knocking, as was customary between them. "Barry, you wouldn't believe the day I've had," Rafe announced dramatically.

However, the sight that greeted him took him by surprise. There, sitting on the couch beside Barry, was a girl he had never seen before. Her smile was big and bright, and it seemed like the two of them had been enjoying each other’s company for some hours, based on the several empty bottles of beer on the table in front of them.

Rafe scowled, feeling a surge of irrational anger. "Well, well, well, look who's got some company."

Barry raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, Rafe, you always know how to make an entrance. This is Hannah an old friend."

An old friend huh? Rafe thought. What does that mean? Like an old girlfriend? And why did he even care? (Rafe knew deep down why he cared though.)

Hannah gave Rafe a friendly wave, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. "Hi there, nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Rafe muttered through gritted teeth.

Barry chuckled, clearly noticing Rafe was pissed of and enjoying it. "So, what's got you all riled up today? Trouble in paradise again?"

“Nah, just a rough day, I guess” Rafe said and looked away.

Barry's expression softened slightly as he realized Rafe was more on edge than usual. He glanced at Hannah and back to Rafe. "Alright, man, take a seat. Let's chill for a bit."

Rafe hesitated for a moment before sitting down on one of the creaking chairs. He couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that Barry and Hannah had some kind of special connection and it hurt more than it should.

As the conversation continued between the three, Rafe struggled to keep his jealousy in check. He found himself provoking and poking fun at Barry and Hannah, trying to mask his vulnerability.

Hannah had this smug smile on her lips and Rafe felt himself getting really annoyed at it. “What?” he barked at her.

She giggled softly. “You know, I’ve been married for four years. His name is John.” she said.

Rafe fell quiet for a few seconds, reflecting on this new information and what it might mean. The then gave her a genuinely confused look, as he was wondering what that had to do with him.

“So you don’t have to be jealous, honey. Barry and I have known each other since when we were kids and never ever have there been anything romantic between us, so you can chill.” She continued.

Rafe just stared at her with his mouth half open. He didn’t know what to answer. He looked over to Barry who looked equally confused for a moment before a smirk began to form on his face.

“What are you suggesting right now?” Rafe asked her, nervous of the answer he suspected was coming and how the hell he would reply to it. Hannah just smiled and looked from Rafe to Barry and back again.

Barry's smirk grew wider, clearly amused by the situation. He leaned back on the couch, putting his arm around the back of it, as if settling in for some good entertainment. "Seems like Hannah's just trying to clear the air, Rafe. No need to get all worked up."

Rafe's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and frustration. He hadn't expected to be caught in his jealousy so easily, and he didn't like feeling so exposed. "I'm not jealous," he muttered defensively, trying to brush it off.

“Oh but you are” Hannah chuckled “and the two of you are in love so just kiss already.”

Rafe's eyes widened, and his heart seemed to skip a beat at Hannah's blunt remark. He felt like the ground beneath him was shifting, unsure how to respond to her bold declaration. Barry's arm remained casually draped over the couch, but he was now looking at Rafe with an intensity that made him squirm uncomfortably.

"Okay, that's enough, Hannah," Barry laughed, but the look of uncertainty on his face evident.

Hannah just shook her head, smile never faltering. "Uh huh I’m sorry but I’m not gonna let this slip Barry. If there is one time in my life I’m gonna wingman somebody it’s now.” She said apologetic and turned to look at Rafe.

“Me and Barry have been hanging out the whole evening and half of the time it has just been Rafe Rafe Rafe.” she continued.

Rafe felt his face burning hot, and he glanced at Barry, who was now looking a little flustered as well. “I’m gonna head home for the night and leave this conversation up to you.” She smiled and stood up.

As they said their goodbyes and good nights to Hannah and she had closed the door after her their gazes met. Rafe didn't know what to say. His feelings for Barry were complicated, and he had spent so long denying them even to himself. The idea of admitting them to Barry, let alone acting on them, was terrifying.

Rafe swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but they seemed to escape him. He felt a mix of emotions swirling inside him - fear, desire, and a deep longing.

Barry leaned a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hey man I don't know what to tell you dawg, Hannah has a way of being pushy, but she means well." He laughed softly.

Rafe could feel his warm breath on his skin, that’s how close they were. It would be so easy to just lean in the last few inches and close the space in between them but it would also be the riskiest bet in his life so far.

”So you’ve been talking a whole lot about me, huh?” He chuckled instead. Still just inches the other man.

“So you’re jealous of me spending time with girls, huh?” Barry countered.

“What if I am?” Rafe responded tentatively, careful to keep the eye contact even if all the wanted to was looking away from those scrutinizing, beautiful brown eyes.

No point in backing out now he thought, it’s do or die. He would probably either get his ass kicked or have Barry laughing the entire situation off just to never bring it up again. But he had to give it a shot so he bit his lip and continued “What if Hannah’s right and I’m just madly in love with you?”

Rafe's heart pounded in his chest, his vulnerability laid bare in those few words. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity as he waited for Barry's response. He was torn between the fear of rejection and the hope that maybe, just maybe, Barry felt the same way.

After a few entireties passed Barry finally let out a soft laugh. “What if you are, country club, and what if I feel the same way?” Braver than Rafe, he reached his hand forward to grace Rafes neck. Rafe took a tentative step forward just to show Barry that he wasn’t fucking around, waiting to see if Barry were, expecting a slap in the face at any point now. But there were no slap, just a warm mouth on his, and rough hands on his body. Rafe immediately answered the kiss, probably to rough, to needy, but he wanted this for far to long to hesitate even one second.

And that’s how Rafe being his own dramatic self landed him a boyfriend. *jealous girl by Lana Del Rey playing in the background*

[bekkachaos]

Hiiii Bekka 💕💕💕💕

I am so intrigued by all your wips!

Please tell me all about (or maybe even share a snippet of 🥰):

-soulmate AU

-Truman show AU

-addict Buck/spiraling Eddie AU

-❤️🪐

Hi darling!! Thank you so much for asking, I love talking about my wips (instead of writing them 😅 teehee).

Here's a bit of info about these wips and a snippet from one 🥰

Soulmate AU

You can't lie to your soulmate, so from a very young age Eddie decides that he's just never going to lie, because he doesn't want to know. He thinks the odds are against finding your soulmate in the millions of people in the world anyway, so why ruin a chance to be happy with someone else?

Buck on the other hand, has always dreamed about finding his soulmate, he's kind of a romantic like that. Such a romantic that he practically lies to every woman he meets, and every time he does he gets that pang of disappointment when it works so easily.

Truman Show AU

This is way more of a vibe than an on track fic just yet! But I had the idea that Buck was given up as a baby to a reality show set to follow a boy in every moment of his life from infancy through adulthood, and baby Buck soon becomes the heart of everyone's home, from the TV. The Evan Show is the most popular tv program ever, with peak audiences for his milestone events like his first day of school, his first kiss, even the day he tragically lost his father in a freak tsunami.

Now, Buck is nearly 30, with a beautiful redheaded fiance (😏) and a perfectly routine life. Only, it's too routine, too perfect. Things are starting to feel weird...

And then there's Eddie, who moves to LA with his son and gets a job as an extra in "The Dome" playing some part out of the way just filling up the world and making it seem real, he never even has to interact with Buck, at least not until he comes running panicked and looking for a place to hide as he questions the world around him. Eddie feels just as panicked, but somehow manages to talk him down and gets him to go home.

The next day Buck comes to visit Eddie and thanks him for what he did, asks him if he would let him buy him a beer to thank him. Eddie says he has to think about it, but that night after work Eddie gets called in with the director who said that his exchange with Buck the day before sent the ratings up, and they want to promote him, want to add him into Buck's friend circle. Eddie gets the impression it's either say yes or he's immediately out of a job, so he agrees.

What he didn't expect was to start falling for the most talked about man in America, and the more he falls, the worse he feels about the life Buck's forced to live, and he wonders if there's anything he could ever do to get him out.

Addict Buck / Spiralling Eddie AU

(this is one I've been thinking thinking about a lot and have so many ideas for, it was supposed to be smaller and for last year's angstfest buuut the idea got away from me and I didn't want to rush it!)

Eddie is at his lowest. His parents took him to court to take Chris away, and won. So they forced him back to Texas with them, leaving Eddie alone in LA. They won't even let Eddie talk to Christopher, telling him that he needs to let him adjust first so he doesn't confuse him. Eddie starts getting angry, so Lena (from his firehouse at the 136) suggests taking out his anger constructively by fighting. It's too good an outlet for Eddie, and he quickly ends up fighting in an illegal underground ring for money, leading to him getting suspended from his job at the fire department. The fighting ring starts to feel like the only thing Eddie has left, even though he knows how destructive it is, he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything.

That thought is weighing on his mind when he's walking to the edge of a bridge and staring out over the river by some abandoned workshops, wondering what the hell the point is anymore when he can't even talk to his son.

That's when he bumps into a stranger in the dark, clearly high on something. They have a tense exchange and Eddie leaves, but for some reason he revisits that spot again a few days later and the stranger, Buck, is still hanging around.

They build up a kind of friendship, and it soon becomes clear that they are exactly what the other needs to pick themselves up out of their low spots (even if they're a little reluctant to do it).

here's a snip x

He closed his eyes and sucked the biting air into his lungs, filling him with cold, fanning the fiery anger that consumed him and escaping back through his split lips in a heavy cloud. "You know most people think your breath doesn't do that until below freezing." Eddie flinched, turning back to see a tall man approaching slowly from behind, hands shoved into his front pockets and eyeing him with a tilt of his head. "Excuse me?" was all he managed in reply. "When you can see your breath in the air, doesn't have to be freezing, hell, only needs to get to about 45," he said, making an 'o' with his lips until his condensated breath came out in a long thin line.  Eddie eyed him warily. He hadn't seen him when he arrived at the bridge, there's not much around save for a few derelict buildings and a foot path leading towards the overpass. On top of that, he could see the way his pupils were dilated, he was high on something, or maybe coming down.  "I'd say sorry, that I didn't mean to interrupt, but I guess I did," he said, keeping his distance from Eddie but not taking his eyes or his curious gaze from him. Eddie just grunted back at him, not sure that he should turn his back on him. He could probably take him in a fight, as long as he doesn't have a knife, but he doesn't really want things to come to that. His knuckles were still cut and bruised from his fight earlier and his brow throbbed from the left hook he'd been too slow to dodge. "Want to tell me what you're doing out here?" the stranger asked, and this time Eddie really didn't care what happened next, so he turned his attention back to the black over the bridge. "Could ask you the same thing. You always sneak up on people? Start conversations about the air, how cold it is?" he said roughly. "Only when they're holding as tightly to the bridge rail as you are."

[theneighborhoodwatch]

another thought/question/invitation to ramble! I was wondering if you have any thoughts on the TV interview clip? There's a lot going on in there in terms of it being, as far as I remember, the only content of "past Wally" we have interacting face-to-face with a Physical Human Person so far. But specifically...am I the only one who is Really Weirded Out by the host asking Wally about his love life? Just the tone and the way he chuckles afterwards hit my arospec autistic brain right in the "no no no no bad" zone because like!!

it's not Bad to think about children show's characters in romantic relationships! Wally is an adult. He's a very childish person, but he's a grown man who could very well talk about and share his experiences in that department, as it were. But it's the context of this being like the first thing the man asks him combined with how confused and Uncomfortable Wally sounds until Barnaby comes on stage. Like why is the first thing this guy wants to know about this little puppet "hey are you dating anyone?". why not ask him about oh I dunno, how he's adjusting to the "celebrity lifestyle", or ask about his hobbies outside of painting or whatever else he does on the show?

Why did this man see a little puppet and instantly jump to asking about who he is smooching or getting dirty with. It's just such! an odd thing! by far the most subtly unsettling part of the site so far and I'd Love to hear your thoughts on it, if any

(so sorry if this was a rambley mess :" )

that's funny, i feel like i was one of the only people who Wasn't all that bothered by that? like, it's definitely not an interview question i would have thought to ask wally, especially as an opener (although it does sound like they had been talking for a while beforehand before rick was like "SO WHO ARE YOU MACKIN' ON") but in in-character interviews for the muppets (which this recording was very clearly a reference to) they did actually ask about the characters' love lives quite a bit, ESPECIALLY kermit's, regardless of whether or not it would have been considered a little trashy to ask the same of human celebrities.

i do think the whole interview serves to highlight how much wally is... Not a kermit-like, though (at least, not the way kermit was characterized in the 70s.) wally isn't really one for dry wit or discussing the intricacies of show biz; pretty much all of his lines in that interview seem like either him just saying what he thinks and then playing along when the audience thinks he's doing a bit OR him falling back on a script when he doesn't know what to say/has learned that A Specific Phrase tends to go over well with people. and yeah, obviously it reads a lot like a Hashtag Autism And/Or Acearospec Moment, but it's also kind of what i mean when i propose the question "is it that the wally we see now is that different from the one we see in official welcome home media in-universe, or is it just that his situation has gotten much worse since welcome home's heyday?" (assuming we're operating on the terms of linear time and not any extradimensional bullfuckery like the "welcome home may not have even Existed" theory would suggest.) wally may be aware that welcome home is a show, or at least that it was created for Us, but it's also his whole life. that's a lot to grapple with, especially in the middle of a conversation with someone who only really seems to acknowledge the first half of that sentence. of course, it's likely that this is because rick doesn't actually know that wally is sentient/aware/what have you; like as far as he's concerned, he's just doing a really good bit with the guy puppeteering wally, but that depends on whether or not anyone knows who the puppeteer is, and that's something we don't have enough info to get into right now. but like, obvious metaphor for subtle dehumanization is obvious, right?

[zephrunsimperium]

is Knowing Me, Knowing You a romantic billford story? what kind of story is it, actually? it looks interesting but I’m afraid to read any type of billford in fear of it being… not the best. what do you think of the ship, actually, since you’re such a fidduathor fan? also, does it end okay, even when incomplete? I have a lot of questions about the fic tbh. too scared to read it tho lol

Whooooo boy do I have a lot to say about this... I highly encourage everyone to read this entire post.

So, my thoughts on BillFord are extremely complicated. I am, first and foremost, a FiddAuthor shipper. That is the ship I consider canon and I even headcanon Bill to be aroace and actively encourage Ford and Fidds to get together because Ford needs to get over stupid societal homophobia plus it's fun to wear down the human's moral compass about hitting on a married man.

BillFord is a FASCINATING concept and it's not hard to see why the ship is as popular as it is despite the (well-deserved) stigma; a lot of things between them that can be read as fuel to the shipping fire. (ie the hair ruffles, the nose flick, the nicknames, the gold statue, the piano serenade, Ford being attracted to the strange, Bill offering to make Ford "one of us," even the possibly kinky undertones of glowy blue chains and bodily possession)

But the problem is that the ship can get very nasty very fast. Make no mistake, what Bill does to Ford is abuse. He is manipulative and violent and cruel. "Mystery bruises?" Literally torturing Ford on screen? Driving a wedge between Ford and his support system to the point that he has extreme trouble trusting people? Preying upon Ford's insecurities about being a freak? That is horrifying stuff, in particular because of how clear the parallels are to real world abuse.

With that in mind, let me talk about KMKY. I loved this fic to pieces. It’s written and organized incredibly well with a good mix of humor, sentiment, tragedy, and villainy without ever feeling off-balance tonally. The best thing about this fic, however, is the mature and nuanced themes about abuse: how hard it is to still love your abuser even when you start realizing that they're as bad as they are, accepting that you're a victim and have no reason to apologize, how an abuser's own trauma isn't an excuse for their actions. I really appreciate that the author has sympathy for Bill while still clearly acknowledging that "hey, what Bill did to Ford was abuse and Ford doesn't have to forgive him, much less take him back." A lesser writer would force Bill and Ford together, but that's not what happens because it's not what should happen.

So, for anyone who is interested in reading it... The gist of it is that instead of inviting Fiddleford to work on the portal, Ford makes a body for Bill to assist in person. The first 33 chapters develop their relationship (ft. Fiddleford being confused and stressed) and then Ford finds out Bill has been lying and eventually goes through the portal. It is very much a romance but the writing is so good that there are times when it's genuinely heartbreaking that the two of them won't work out.

I would definitely say that Bill is the main character (even though Ford has a significant amount of viewpoint time and he's the one you're supposed to root for) because he's the one who changes throughout the story. It's not a positive change, but it is an extremely compelling character arc. The characterization of Bill in this fic is particularly cool to me because he’s definitely a complete person, but he’s very clearly inhuman.

A little preview/incentive to read it: all of Bill’s underlings have individual personalities, Jheselbraum is a super important character and her characterization is... really cool (that's not a good description, but I was in love with it), the worldbuilding of all the places Ford visits in the multiverse was really cool and fun, there are great OCs like Wendy's mom, this mob boss guy that is a delight to hate, and a sarcastic kick-ass alien lady, Bill's backstory is really impactful, Pyronica is a bad bitch, Bill and Ford fight zombies while We Go Together from Grease plays in the background, there are cool themes about enjoying the mundane things in life and how society treats the Strange, and well-written humor that had me laughing out loud constantly. For as long as it is, all of it was extremely memorable and hardly any of it felt like filler. (I will warn you if you choose to read it, there is some serious steam.)

As for the ending... I totally understand why the author stopped writing it. They were trying to make it canon-compliant, but by the time it caught up to the show it was very clear that adhering to the canon material was holding them back. They did their best, but I could tell they weren't enjoying writing it and if you're not enjoying your art, then I don't think it's worth doing.

Wow that was a long post. Thanks so much for the ask, Anon! I hope this was a satisfying response!