#where he's very fatigued and its really painful and he needs to take time to recharge before he gets a boost

[shdo-xplosion]

HEAT • e. todoroki •°. *࿐

warnings: stepcest, periods, period sex, fingering, infidelity (not really dwelled upon), use of “daddy”, enji is a human heating pad *1.3k words

notes: its about to be that time of the month *sob sob* and i am in a bad brain mood that makes me wanna do nothing except cuddle with my heating pad so here we are! manga cap colored n edited by moi (*꒦ິ³꒦ີ)

Enji hates seeing you like this, his little angel, overtaken by fatigue and pain. You’ve been lounging on the couch for most of the day, moving from one position to another in hopes of finding temporary relief. Enji had been eyeing the calendar in preparation, picking a few things up from the nearby store so that you wouldn’t have to worry your pretty head.

But soft silicon discs and organic chocolate can only do so much. You keep swapping out your heating pad for the full heated blanket, keep curling up only to get up and walk around, and Enji can only take so much whining. It’s not that he’s irritated—never with you—he just hates seeing you in pain.

“Come here, baby,” he sighs, taking a seat on the far end of the couch and patting one of his humongous thighs.

You look at him with a hesitant sort of hope, “are you sure, daddy?” waiting for him to nod before scrambling over and slotting yourself on his lap.

You sit facing him, chest to chest, your head resting on his burly shoulder as Enji allows his hands to heat up. He slips them under your threadbare shirt, placing them on the small of your back just over your kidneys. Your relieved sigh comes out as more of a moan, your body melting against his.

Enji has gotten better about keeping his hands off of you, his precious step-daughter. What started as a curiosity turned into an accident that formed a habit. A very bad habit. It isn’t illegal. You’re in your twenties for Christ’s sake. But, it isn’t right. Enji shouldn’t be touching you like this. But, you want him to, especially on days like this.

“I know you’re the number one hero n’ all,” you hum, nuzzling against his throat, “and your job is to fight villains, but… I think your true calling is period relief.”

Enji laughs deeply, slowly working his thumbs into your back. “I don’t do this for just anyone, you know.”

“I know, I know.” You place a feather light kiss to his neck, and Enji damns himself when he feels his cock twitch under you. “Just saying. If hero work doesn’t pan out…”

He doesn’t respond, trying to stay in his right mind as you shift over him. You get comfortable where you lean against him, legs parted on either side of him, and for a little while Enji just sits and watches the asinine drama you have playing on the TV, rubbing small circles into your muscles.

It isn’t like he’s had these feelings since you were young. You and your mother came into his life when you were nearly 18 already, and his mind didn’t start betraying him until a few years after that. Enji isn’t sure if it’s the slew of worthless boys you keep bringing around to meet him, the constant threats on your life, or his own struggle with mortality, but something has Enji going a little crazy in recent months. Something is giving him an insatiable need to protect and take care of you. To make you his.

He doesn’t look at you the same way he looks at his other children, nor does he see you the same way he saw Rei or how he sees your mother. You're something else entirely. Quirkless but fearless, a force to be reckoned with yet so easy to be brought to your knees when it’s your dear daddy asking.

It was just a one time thing when you came home crying after a break up and Enji helped you forget about that stupid boy. Just a special occasion when you got all dressed up for the gala and Enji took you in your bedroom after everyone else had gone ahead. And, all the nights he saunters into your room while you’re knuckle deep in your pussy, trying so hard to get yourself off—that’s just so you can both get some rest. He doesn’t want you like that because it would be wrong. No way for the Number One hero to behave or think. They’re just little lapses in judgment here and there.

“Daddy?”

Enji grunts in response, toes curling at the sound of your voice cooing such a suggestively innocent title.

“Still hurts,” you whisper.

He warms his hands against your back a bit more, palms probably an uncomfortable temperature to anyone who isn’t seeking heat therapy.

“Any better?”

You shake your head, rubbing your face back and forth into his neck. “Inside. It’s…” He can hear your teeth slide against one another as you clench your jaw tightly. “Just hurts.”

He feels the way you spread your legs further, bearing down on him. It isn’t subtle. You may not be saying it with your mouth, but you’re all but rubbing your covered pussy over his hardening cock, a silent plea.

“You think that’ll help?” Enji questions, well aware of his baritone voice and the effect it has on you.

You shiver in his lap and nod. “S’long as you’re gentle.”

Tilting his head to the side, he guides your chin on his shoulder until you’re eye to eye with one another. “Aren’t I always?” Enji hasn’t always been known to be a soft man. In fact, his reputation has always been about being cruel, harsh, with no room for mercy. Things change over time, though, and even if they hadn’t, you would be the exception.

He helps you off of him so that you can shimmy out of your cloth shorts and panties. You tell him these are special made for periods, to absorb blood, “but if you want me to put a disc in really quick…”

Enji hushes you, fighting not to roll his eyes. “I’m not scared of a little blood, honey.”

To prove his point, he guides you back to his lap, slipping two thick fingers between your folds. Enji doesn’t push them further, just gathers the warm fluid coating your lips, teasing your hole with it. You grip his shoulders, face scrunched up.

“I’m going to give you one now, hm?” he warns, slowly delving his middle finger into the heat of your cunt. You take him easily, aided by your arousal and blood. As promised, Enji is slow and careful as he stretches you, watching for your expression to relax before adding his second finger.

“Alright, turn around, sweet girl,” he softly commands, waiting for you to face outward before guiding your hips down to meet his. Your body tenses when his fat cockhead slips into you, and Enji holds still so that you can adjust to his size. He lets you set the pace from there, delighting in the way that you slowly ease yourself down on his cock. Little by little, inch by inch, your walls spasming around his length until you settle right in his lap.

You let out a shaky breath, legs trembling, but it all goes away when Enji ushers you to his chest, letting you lean back as he places his hot hands over the lower part of your tummy. The angle has his cock pressed against your front wall, spongy tissue swelling around him, and just like that you find your relief.

“Feels so much better,” you say. Your voice isn’t slurred or all pleasure-rich despite Enji being able to feel your body’s reaction to him. No, you are content, at peace after a full day of discomfort.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod and giggle, “need to remember this for next time. Who needs Midol when I can just have this cock?”

Enji groans, shifting his hips to push his tip straight against your cervix.

“You can have it whenever you need, angel,” he mutters, brushing his lips over your shoulder and expertly kneading the tender skin of your hips. “Just say the word and daddy will come to your rescue.”

2023 ©️shidou-x. please do not plagiarize or repost my work in any other platforms.

#enji todoroki x reader #endeavor x reader #endeavor smut #enji todoroki smut #bnha x reader #tw periods #tw stepcest #tw pseudocest

[kentopedia]

How do you think Nanami would take care of his gf/wife when she's on her period?

omg THIS REQUEST <3 i think about him every time im on my period bc i just know he would be the very best :(

kento is (of course) a knowledgable man when it comes to this ! he thinks it's ridiculous when men get uncomfortable or awkward about periods. he will encourage conversations about it, because he likes to understand how you're feeling and what you need from him !

when you've been together for long enough, he definitely reaches a point where he knows when your period is going to come. he is super observation of all the little changes in the way you act, even if you aren't very good about tracking <3

and he is so prepared ! if you're on your period or close to it, he'll carry a couple tampons in his pocket just in case you accidentally forget :,)

if you have pretty bad mood swings, he is obviously not judgmental at all! he is so so patient with you, because it's not your fault your hormones are all mixed up, and you're crying to him for no reason in the middle of the day :(

he is definitely the husband/bf that knows if you prefer pads or tampons, which brand you like, etc, ! and he will alwaysss go pick them up for you if you ask. he's a mature man

and he'll spoil you a little more than usual for sure. especially if you (like me) get more depressed or anxious right before your period.

he'll pick you up flowers, cook you dinner, buy you some little gifts just to cheer you up

even if that makes you cry ten times harder

and he sends you the sweetest little messages throughout the day just checking up on you: asking if your cramps are super bad, if you're feeling better, little i love you's, things like that !

he always wants to know if there's anything he can do to help you out. and even if you're the type to insist you'll be fine, he just wants you to know that you can lean on him if you need to.

during your period, if you get home after a long day very fatigued, he'll rub your back and massage any part of your body that hurts

ooh he loves taking a nice hot shower or bath with you too to help your pain

if it's sometimes hard for you to work up an appetite during your period, kento would be super conscious of that. he notices immediately, and wants to make sure you're taking care of yourself and your body!

& of course, he'll get you pain killers and heating pads to help your cramps !

he loves when you lay curled into him, partially on his chest so he can rub your stomach. the feeling of his warm hand pressing soothing circles into your skin is better than a heating pad anyway

if you get super fatigued during your period, kento really really doesn't mind picking up some of the chores around the house for a few extra days.

honestly, whatever you need, kento is willing to provide for you! if you just want some space, he'll let you have that too. he just really wants you to communicate your needs, that is so important to him

NSFW BELOW

just for the record.

if its something that will help your cramps go away, kento does not mind period sex at alll

he's a sorcerer, he has seen his fair share of blood, has cleaned up plenty of wounds, he doesn't get queasy or weird about it.

and he loves you so so much, he hates seeing you in pain :( he'll do anything he can to help, especially if he gets some enjoyment out of it too hehe

#kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #tw period #cw periods

[lilithliliam]

My quiet haven

Warnings: Yandere themes. Teacher/student relationship. Obsessive and possessive behavior. There is no bloodthirstiness, there is no theme of death. Manipulation and pressure. The reader is a virgin. NSFW. Jealousy.

The reader is studying with Gojo temporarily, cause she don't plan to be a sorceress. The reader is 18 years old. She must learn to use her power, which is why she came to study in Tokyo.

It’s hard to imagine a Gojo who loves someone very much, let alone Yandere Gojo, but it turns out that this can happen. Where did it all start? Gojo is not particularly interested in people, to be honest, but he really loves and cares about his students. About all of them without exception, but recently he began to notice that he devotes much more time and attention to one of his students than to others, and is it even possible to blame him for this. After all, she, his student, is the very embodiment of femininity, beauty and kindness. She's not like everyone else, she's not angry at him for his childish nature, she doesn't think he's arrogant, or she doesn't have a stupid crush on him. She always seemed to be able to somehow read his emotions. He could say that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him, that his mission had been more successful than ever, that he was not tired at all, but she could understand how he felt just by looking once. When all his students left, she approached him and asked about his well-being, whether he was tired, whether he was accidentally injured. Did he need anything? And she asked with such genuine concern that Satoru involuntarily felt something in his chest - was moving. At first, he brushed off her questions, not wanting to pester her with his problems, but then he didn’t even understand how he began to open up. In one of the most vulnerable moments, when she was the only one who realized that something was wrong with him, with the strongest. She just came up and despite all the assurances that everything was fine, she hugged him tightly. As tightly as she could. She told him not to hide his feelings, because we all are people. He is a human after all. No matter how strong he is, he is still a person who is no stranger to pain, fatigue and suffering. And this is not something to be ashamed of.

"I can't even imagine the heavy burden you carry every day, sensei ,but please don't carry it alone. Whenever you need, whenever you feel alone, I will always be here for you. I can hardly help a lot, but I can listen to you. And no matter what you say, it will always remain between us,” she told him.

She hugged him, pressing his head to her chest and stroking his hair. She whispered various soothing things. And he...just melted like plasticine in her wonderful hands. He felt like a lonely abandoned child who had finally found shelter, a warm home. That day he himself did not understand how he fell asleep. But he slept well then. And then the germ of interest that he experienced in her even at the first meeting grew into true love. He didn't care that she was his student, that she was younger. She will only study for a year and she is already 18. He has been single for so many years that who cares about her age or the family she comes from. Gojo knew that he had earned himself at least one happiness in life and he was going to take care of its safety.

She was kind in character in general. She was kind to everyone, from a small bug on the sidewalk which she picked up and planted on a nearby flower so that it would not be given away, to the janitor for whom she bought coffee in a very cold time, knowing that he would probably frozen And of course she was kind to her classmates. She cared, but not too persistently, for Megumi, hugged and supported Itadori, saying that even though he is a vessel of Sukuna, this doesn't mean that he is bad. She listened and gave advice to Nobara and went shopping with her. She calmed down and even prepared Nanami’s favorite bread and sandwiches, who, by the way, also doted on her. She became the soul and the bright sun of their entire company. And Gojo was fine with this for the time being.

However, over time, he became even more clingy than before. He began to constantly demand her attention. Her worries. If she devoted time to someone else, he would create scandals and hysterics. When he finished his missions, the first thing he did was rush to her and showed off like a kid. And she smiled and praised. Thanked him for his hard work. Prepared sweets or other food for him just because knew that after the mission he would probably want to eat something. And he could sit all night with her in the living room or in her room, eating sweets or chips and watching some movie. He would constantly cry at the sad moments and laugh out loud at the funny ones, but one thing was invariable: he would either lie on her chest or on her lap while she instinctively stroked his hair. When she was once enthusiastically reading some book, he became hysterical like a child and threw it somewhere, while refusing to look at her, and childishly pouting his lip, showing that he was the victim here. At first she was indignant, but then, instead of to reprimand him, she sighed quietly and opened her arms, where he immediately rushed, forgetting about his offense because she forgot about him for THREE WHOLE MINUTES!

Her classmates also noticed Gojo’s strange attitude towards her, but she brushed it off and said that he was like a big baby or a living teddy bear and that he needed to be cuddled and cherished, otherwise he would behave completely capriciously. They didn't approve of this, but seeing how happy Gojo was they couldn't resist. She noticed that his actions were strange at times, but she convinced herself that Gojo was very lonely. She understood the burden people had placed on him since his birth. How they don't let him be normal. And his childish behavior was justified by the lack of a normal childhood before. Seeing one day how bad he really was, she decided that at least she could understand him, not put pressure on him, could become his quiet haven where he could come to rest. She wanted nothing more than for her mentors Gojo and Nanami to finally be able relax and do what you really want. One day Gojo felt that he was ready to completely open up to her. He told everything that was in his heart. About his best friend Geto, who betrayed him to the point of taking his life himself. He expected contempt in her eyes, although he understood that she was not that kind of girl, but he was afraid of her reaction. But she smiled softly and said that it was probably hard for him. And that she understood him. She feels sorry for his friend, she feels sorry for that girl. But the past cannot be changed. If Geto was his best friend, then he understands his actions and does not hold a grudge against him, so Satoru should also forgive himself: she told him. He first smiled and then...cried. He cried in her lap as she stroked his hair in an attempt to calm him down. He calmed down and he and she even agreed to visit Geto’s grave together next time. It would seem that everything was fine. Everyone was happy. Gojo has finally found his soul mate. A person ready to accept him. Here she is, the perfect girl. Strong, albeit weaker than him, beautiful, although not more beautiful than him(joke). But something is still wrong. He looks at her communicating with Yuji and Nanami and something strange stirs in his chest. He watches carefully as she hands a basket, probably with food, into Nanami's hands. After all, Gojo himself saw how she prepared him and suddenly realizes. Oh yes, exactly. This feeling is called... anxiety. No no. Jealousy. No... uncertainty? No, stupidity. So that Satoru Gojo himself, the strongest magician, feels insecure? Nonsense. But deep down he is afraid that she does not feel the same, that she might choose someone younger, like Yuji, someone more responsible like Nanami. But he's not going to give up. He's lost enough people and he's not going to lose any more. He knows for sure that he doesn't want her to care about anyone else. Especially about Nanami. After all, after so much time spent with her, it seems that she did not look at him differently, although Satoru tried to look after her. He gave her sweets, put flowers in her room, or if she was just walking, he appeared out of nowhere and dragged her to the nearest cafe to try a new food, but apparently this was not enough. So Gojo decided to act more decisively. And show her intentions, because even if she guessed about his feelings, she tried not to pay attention to it.

Gojo had hugged her before, like all his students, but now his hugs became more frequent, lower and more intimate? Although she felt that something was wrong, she tried to blame it on paranoia. When she was cooking, he could hug her and put his head on her shoulder and inhale the smell of her hair. One day, when she was eating candy that he bought her, for some reason in the shape of a heart, he asked how it tasted. She says it’s very tasty and he took the candy she bit and ate it, closing his eyes in satisfaction. One day he took her phone to check the time, but then when she took her phone again, on the lock screen there was a photo of them that they took with everyone, but only... the rest of the participants were cut out and only him and Gojo remained. By the way, he put the same photo on his phone. She also noticed that next to his contact there was now a red heart. And sometimes she woke up in the morning with a heaviness on her stomach and when she opened her eyes, she found a sleeping Gojo who was hugging her tightly, trying to fit on her bed. Slowly but surely he became a part of her life, her social circle, slowly and surely filling her entire world. One day, while walking in a store, he offered her to buy “mochi” in the shape of a heart, which were sold for Valentine’s Day, to which she quite logically replied:

-But, Gojo sensei, this is for couples

“Well, yes, we’re dating so what’s the problem here,” he told her as if nothing had happened.

-I love you, you love me and...call me Satoru-sama now, right? She was numb for a minute, not knowing how to refuse him, and he, of course, took advantage of this.

-You take care of me, cook for me, hug me, comfort me. This of course means that you like me as much as I like you. And you will not leave me like everyone else. Don't hurt my feelings. Well, of course, and how can you not love me.I’m so charming,

- he said, knowing that he was manipulating her, leaving her no choice, but he didn’t care. She was his and no one, not even she herself, could change that.

And she, in turn, thought: This is the first time that Gojo is truly happy, it took so much time to heal his wounds, but she won’t open his wounds again and leave new ones? How can she do this to him? Yes, and she must admit that over time she herself began to have feelings for him. It’s hardly pity, rather admiration along with the desire to care. The maternal instinct must be making itself felt, because he's like real child (or maybe it’s just a skillful manipulation by Satoru) So she decided that why not. She will give him a chance.And she did not quite confidently confirm the fact of their relationship, and Satoru was not even shy about rare people in the store, and kissed her right there, because he had been craving this for so long.

As for intimate matters, everything is simple. His beloved is 18 years old, in fact, she is not even his student, and Gojo also has his own... needs. Therefore, he probably won’t want to wait, or give her time to prepare for this mentally. He will gently hint to her by saying something like:

"Hey hey, a wonderful day to lose your virginity, don't you think?"

Or

"How is my favorite virgin doing?"

He constantly kisses her on the lips and moves lower. Will constantly touch her. And one day he will invite her to his house to watch a film. But she felt how it would end, after all, it was Satoru. He almost directly stated that he wanted her. Before she had time to enter his apartment, he was already heart-rendingly and greedily kissing her lips. Lifting her by the ass, he carried her onto the bed while crushing the fat of her ass. Climbing on top of her, he kissed her as if he wanted her to choke on either his tongue or his saliva. While his long, muscular arms explored her entire body, hastily ridding her of her clothes. Having finished with the kiss, leaving a thread of their common saliva on her lips that dripped onto her bare collarbones, he kissed lower. Frantically kissing the beads of her hardened nipples and putting one in his mouth, he began to suck, twisting it around his tongue, causing a series of moans from his beloved. He barely looked away from her soft and elastic breasts and began to look at her greedily, God, how he wanted to take a picture of her now, it was just a pornographic look. He wanted to remember this for the rest of his life. But this was her first time, he had to be softer and more gentle and please her first, and then himself. He sank lower, from her navel, sunken tummy to her femininity and she screamed. Her whole body arched and she pulled Gojo's head closer to her peak and Gojo moaned out loud.

She wriggled like a snake, simultaneously dropping sweet moans that gave him an incentive to move on. He greedily sucked, licked and even stuck his nimble tongue into her, stimulating places that she probably didn’t even know existed. Using his thumb, stroking and occasionally rubbing her clitoris or alternating it with his tongue, and inserting first one then a second finger into her, he quickly brought her to the peak and she moaned loudly and protractedly. He stood up and took off his T-shirt as he walked, wiping his wet mouth and face with it.

"Damn, damn baby. This is the best thing I've ever eaten. I wish you would give me this instead of the usual tomorrow and dinner, baby," he told her.

While she was trying to recover from a violent orgasm, he unzipped his pants and hastily stayed in his boxers, wet from his own secretions, in which his erect penis could be clearly seen. He desperately needed to be in her. He seemed ready to cum now if she just touched him.

She felt something hard and smooth sliding along her wet folds, occasionally touching her clitoris, causing a new wave of goosebumps and moans. Then slowly, as slowly as he could, testing all his patience, Gojo began to enter her. She seemed to suffocate from the feeling of being so stretched and full, something strange was tickling her stomach from the inside.

Now it was real torture for him not to move. It was incredibly tight, hot and very humid! The vaginal muscles tightly wrapped around the penis. The heat that came from them was driving them crazy, prompting them to immediately start moving. But he couldn't afford to be rude, not with her!

He bows his head in a gentle kiss, pulls out of her slightly, and makes a careful push back.

For the first time, a girl feels the movements of a man inside her.

She clasps her hands behind his neck. She doesn’t yet understand how she feels.

Another soft, not strong, deep push. He barely comes out of her before entering again to the end, as if he is rocking the two of them on the waves.

Her quiet moan escapes directly into his lips, breaking the kiss.

Tries the amplitude a little more. So wet that he easily slides in it, feeling the pleasant friction of the sensitive organ.

He told himself that he shouldn't lose patience, that he should be gentle, but... God, he couldn't do it anymore. It felt like heaven, like pure bliss, like a drug in its purest form.

Her pussy was warm, tight, reactive and wet - it was everything he had dreamed of and more.

He tried to be soft, tried to be slow, but hearing her meow and whimper he lost all remnants of willpower and self-control. He set a leisurely rhythm, simultaneously comforting her with sweet words, saying how well she was doing, how great she was and how well she accepted him. Just be patient, okay, is it okay for me, baby? “Be patient with love,” he whispered to her, but he himself seemed about to go crazy.

-Darling, my love, I just want to make you feel good? Okay?

Trying to distract himself and distract her from the unpleasant sensations of stretching, he kissed her cheeks, ears and her sensitive neck.

Surrendering to his tender kisses, she forgot about the pain and completely relaxed.

-It's okay, I'm okay.

-Are you sure honey, damn... say yes

To which she nodded and smiled. And he couldn't stand it anymore. Spreading her legs wide and pressing them to her chest, he began to quickly and hard enter her, his snow-white, coarse pubic hair and the slapping of his pelvis causing additional friction, stimulating her clitoris, bringing her to the edge. Quick thrusts that quickly spread her apart causing her to open up and make room for him inside, stretching her walls and letting them mold to the shape of his cock.

She arches her back, groaning protractedly. Clings to Satoru's shoulders, maintaining his balance. Gojo grabs her throat with his wet palm, speeding up the rhythm.

There is a catastrophic shortage of air. She moans loudly in her lover's ear, squeezing his hair with her palm.

She feels intoxicated already from the sounds he makes. A primal, deep growl emanates from his chest as he looks down to where you are both connected in heart and soul. Forever and ever... He makes his way inside of you, taking pleasure in your whines and squeals and pitiful meows.

-Go-jo ah, more, nhh I want

-Yes Yes Yes, baby. Let's.Do it. Do. You can my darling.

A pleasant spasm tightens in the lower abdomen. She whines, resting her forehead on the man's neck. A shiver runs through my body. The heartbeat quickens, the head is spinning. She clenches inside and moans loudly.

A powerful orgasm breaks through her body, she closes her eyes to white spots, sinking her teeth into Satoru’s neck.

Her second orgasm was more intense than the first, her cunt throbbing around his cock as pleasure pierced her with outstretched claws, ravaging every part of her.

He groaned. "I'm feeling it. You're squeezing my... oh... I'm going to, damn nhhhh.

His body was on fire, pleasure coursing through every nerve as he continued to fuck your quivering pussy, the lewd wet slaps of flesh on flesh accompanying his wanton, wild moans.

-I'm here, almost. Me too. Babe. Babe. Babe.

He screamed as if in a fit and then moved again, then again and again until the white pearls of sperm stained her insides. He waited a little longer, a heavy exhalation escaping his lips, dripping from his forehead, nose and hair. And then he collapsed exhaustedly on top of her, without leaving her. Remembering that he actually rolled heavily to one side and laid her on his chest, trying to even out his breathing. He stroked her hair and gave her a short laugh, kissing her on the top of her head.

-It was, it was... indescribable. You're so good... for...me

He whispered to her various nonsense, words of love, promises. Until felt that she was sleeping.

-Good night, my not virgin. He whispered in her ear, admiring her peaceful, sleeping face with red cheeks and rejoicing at his victory and understanding what it means to be happy. He felt happier than ever. Felt peace, tranquility and tranquility.

He finally found his man, his home. Your own quiet haven. And now no one will dare to encroach on him, no one will dare even look at her. She is his. He branded her, made her completely his, and soon he will build a house for them. He will put her there, he will admire her for hours, he will be the only one, he will teach her himself. He will make her a child, marry her. Don’t want to share her with a child, but it’s better than some Nanami. Let Kento look for another. After all, she is... only his Quiet Haven.

I don't own this arts

#gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo sensei #yandere #yandere gojo #jjk yandere #teacher crush #sensei gojo #jujutsu kaisen #sorcery fight

[so-boredtoday]

Medical appointment

Trafalgar D. Law x fem!reader

Summary: After dealing with menstrual pain for the last few months, you decide to make an appointment with your captain for a check-up.

Word count: 4K almost 5k

Rated: M / NSFW

Tags/warnings: Medical Kink, Doctor/Patient, Dubious consent in the beginning, Sexual health, Fingering, over stimulation, slightly use of pet names, She/Her pronouns, No beta reader we die as cowards, this is not good don’t let the tags fool you.

Author notes: I was thinking about it since forever so here it is ✨ I changed the quotes to hyphens this time and I don't know if it's the best idea but I hope you can understand it. Let me know if it's horrible hahaha… And remember to go to the doctor for a check up at least once a year even if it is not as attractive as Law

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

You had been to the medical wing a couple of times, it had always been simple things like checking some minor battle wounds or for the annual exams, however this was your first time for consultation. Law was sitting at the desk with his white coat on, there were a couple of things that didn't belong to the medical wing: Some half-opened maps, a notepad and a den den mushi, he had brought all those things to keep up with his work while he waited for your arrival for the medical appointment.

– Hello Captain – You said smiling as you approached – I hope I won't take up too much of your time –

He looked at you while shaking his head – That's what I'm here for, I'm the ship's doctor, don't worry about that – His hand went across the desk to point to the chair – Come on, sit down – He continued – How can I help you – He said kindly but without changing his characteristic serious countenance

– I was talking to Ikkaku about my menstrual period... – It wasn't a topic that would embarrass you at all but it was a bit strange to talk about it with Law – I have pain every month and I thought it was something normal you know? But apparently it's not and I wanted to see if you can help me with that –

– You are right, it is not normal however I need more info to be able to determine the cause and give you a treatment – He said while taking notes without looking at you – Does it occur every day of the period? –

– Most of the time yes, however it is stronger on the second and third day – You answered.

– On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain? – He asked looking at you without taking his hand off the paper.

– On a good day... a 6 and on a bad one an 8 – I said grimacing – It's hard to stand up and I feel dizzy, I usually put on some heat and take an analgesic to continue with my tasks – You answered

– It's not very good to self-medicate... – He continued writing without looking at you – That's what I'm here for – He continued as he got up and walked towards the stretcher – Please lie down – You walked, got on the stretcher and looked up at the ceiling.

– I'm going to pull up your blouse to locate the pain zone, are you okay with that? – He said approaching the edge of the gurney.

– Sure – You said without taking your eyes off the ceiling.

– Do you have a regular cycle? – He said as he began to press on your lower stomach.

– Not really... I have spurts of months where it only varies for a couple of days and others where it skipped by almost a month – You answered while his fingers run across your lower belly it was a pleasant feeling – I'd say it's right there – his movements stopped.

– Okay... You can get up – He walked to the desk again – When do you think your period will start? – he asked

– I think in about a week if it's not delayed – you told him as you sat down on the stretcher.

– I need you to record some data for me: The start date, number of days, symptoms such as nausea, night sweats, fatigue but mostly pain and its intensity – He said while opening one of the side drawers to take some gloves – Active sex life?

You blushed a little – Not as active as I would like but yes – You replied automatically regretting your words right after you said them, he gave a small amused laugh in response.

– I'm going to do a little exploration – He said approaching, you looked at him a little alarmed – It may be a little uncomfortable, but it shouldn't be too painful... There are gowns in the first drawer of the bureau. I'll prepare the stretcher you can change behind the screen – He pulled one of the stretcher’s levers as you walked to the bureau and took out the gown.

You started to take off your clothes unsure, this definitely had not been your best idea. It was necessary but you weren't ready for Law to check you. You took a breath as you pulled down your underwear and folded it along with your other clothes, put on the medical gown and walked out.

Law was finishing placing the equipment as you walked to the stretcher – You can go seat now, place your legs on the supports... – He said as he took the chair to sit right in front of the stretcher – This test is called cervical cytology – He said as he put on his gloves without looking at you.

Your legs were open in front of him, again you fixed your gaze to the ceiling without saying a word – For the moment it will only be manual since I don't have the necessary equipment but this way we can check things like the position of your uterus, sensitivity or pain... are you ready? – He ask

– Not really – You said, he didn't say anything but looked at you raising his eyebrows. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath - Okay... I'm ready -

The wheels of his chair rattled against the floor as he approached – I'm going to touch – He began to move his hands across your crotch – I'm going to examine the outside.... Normally this is not painful but please let me know if you have any discomfort – His hands ran over your labia majora slowly, after a few seconds he started to move to the minors, you were breathing slowly trying to imagine anything to distract you until his fingers touched your clit. You opened your eyes and moved backwards with the help of your arms making his hand move away from you - Pain? - He said in a totally professional neutral tone.

– No... it's not painful…it was just a reflex... sorry – You said embarrassed.

– No problem, try to relax and we will finish faster – He said kindly, you went back to take the initial position while breathing – I'm going to touch again. Try not to move – His fingers went back to your clit. He ran it in up and down movements and then a couple of circular movements – It seems that everything is fine – He said while he went down a little towards your entrance that was now a little wet and then give a couple of more circles on your clit, your heart was beating fast inside your chest while you felt how his long fingers rubbed your most sensitive spot.

You closed your eyes and tried to stifle any sound that might come out of your mouth, none of this seemed abnormal to him so you calmed yourself everything is fine. He returned to your entrance and moistened his fingertips to give you a couple of more strokes on your clit, you gasped quietly and then he moved his hands away and turned on the chair to take a bottle from the side table – The flow seems normal for this stage of your cycle – he said as you heard the sound of the liquid coming out of the bottle – I will check the inside now… I’m going to press on your pelvis at the same time... if it needs more lubricant feel free to tell me – he continued – If there is any kind of pain please let me know.

– Okay… – You answered as you took a breath, a warm familiar feeling was forming in your lower belly and you began to feel embarrassed to feel that way.

Law is just doing his job You thought I just have to breathe and it will pass soon

It was then when his fingers brushed your entrance, you swallow nervously trying to stay calm. His left hand rolled your pelvis, his fingers entered without difficulty thanks to his lubricant (and your own wetness).

– Very good – He said suddenly – I'm going to press ok? – you felt how the fingers of his right hand began to digit inside you while the left one pressed on your pelvis – I may have to go in and out a couple of times but it's normal – After a few times of pressing inside he pulled his fingers out and went back in in a slow movement and repeated a couple of times more, an involuntary moan came out of your lips when he brushed a sensitive area inside – Is it painful?... I'm going to press again and let me know the intensity – before you could answer he curled his fingers inside you again pressing that sensitive spot and you let out a needy sigh.

– Law... it's not pain... – You said while breathing heavily.

That he knew perfectly well he had been looking for your sweet spot for a while, he smiled to himself as he saw how your body reacted to his touch. Then suddenly the pressure on your pelvis disappeared, without another word he withdrew his fingers and turned the chair around to grab a towel.

– Everything seems to be excellent – He said in a casual tone ignoring how your chest was rising and falling rapidly – I'm going to clean you so you can change – He passed a paper towel over the area in circular movements with special attention on the upper part – We are done now... I think we have all the drugs available… I'll get them while you change, I'll be back in a second – He said getting up.

You lowered your legs from the supports with difficulty and sat; your cheeks were red and your vision blurred. Clearly it was all part of the examination but your body did not agree with the lack of contact and longed for release. You walked over to the screens to put on your clothes trying to ignore the forming wetness between your legs then you sat in the chair in front of the desk while looking at the stretcher and unconsciously squeezed your thighs together, you let out a frustrated gasp as you waited.

He had entered the medical storage closet, a small room inside the medical wing that was normally kept locked; you looked at the maps to distract yourself from the warm feeling that was tenting your cunt. You slightly heard the tinkling of the glass through the closed door while he was looking for the medicines, a few minutes passed and you heard a little frustrated sigh from Law; maybe we didn't have the drugs after all but after about 5 minutes the door opened. Law entered the office again with a frown on his face with a small metal box in his right hand, but something was missing... his white coat was gone and he was just in his usual attire.

– We have two options... – He said taking a seat while running his hand across his forehead – The first one is simple but has some side effects that could be quite strong and annoying – He continued looking at you – It consists of a hormonal treatment, specifically with contraceptive mechanisms there are several options we can review for you – He turned back to his notes – It would be the simplest way out however we also have option number two – He continued and looked at you again.

–We can try with supplements, changes in your diet and rest cycles, besides reducing stress there are some.... exercises that I would like you to try – His look darkened a little on the last sentence – We will give you a 3 month trial period and if that doesn't work we go back to option one, what do you think? –

You blinked a couple of times processing the information – I like the sound of the second one… I don't really lose anything by trying – You pondered

– Very good – He smiled slightly – Let's create a basic regimen – He opened the box and took out a couple of amber glass bottles – The supplements consist of vitamin b and magnesium that will help you with muscle compression during your period.... – He slid them slowly to your side of the table as he wrote on a new note – One pill of each a day and also recommend that you replace coffee with tea especially chamomile or ginger tea and avoid red meat – You took the bottles and watched him write down when he finished he looked up at you – There is something else... – You looked back at him carefully – I need you to touch yourself – You opened your eyes in surprise and looked at him in confusion.

– I beg your pardon captain? – You said while blushing

– At least once or twice a week… you will see… there are some studies on the effectiveness of masturbation as an agent in controlling the intensity and frequency of menstrual pain – His tone was still serious there was no trace of joking in it – If that doesn't work then we will evaluate hormonal treatment – In one motion he tore off the clinical sheet and handed it to you – Do you have any questions? –

– Is there... is there a problem if I don't... if I don't do the exercises – You asked embarrassed – I share a room with Ikkaku and there is not much time when I am alone – Besides you didn't want to talk about it in the future.

– You can do it here – He said lifting his shoulders – No one will bother you here… Just make sure you close the door and keep the area clean – You looked at him in shock. He was treating it as if it was something usual like putting a bandage or a blood pressure measurement – But…– He looked at you with understanding – If you find it uncomfortable you can skip it, however as a medical professional I suggest you consider it –

You looked away from the medical note – I... will think about it... thank you very much Captain – you said getting up from your seat.

– No problem – He said – Don't forget to monitor your period. I will schedule you for a check-up in two weeks to evaluate the effectiveness of the treatment

– Sure... I won't forget – You told him as you quickly left the room. Law let out a sigh as soon as the door closed, normally he wasn't this kind of person, the medical profession was sacred to him; he had promised his father that he would be a good doctor when he was a kid but it was hard to stay professional when it came to you.

When he scheduled you a medical appointment he never imagined he would end up with his fingers inside your pussy, just remembering it made his pants tighten again.

It had been hard to stop touching you when he could hear the little sighs coming out of your mouth or seeing how your body reacted to his touch and it had been even harder to keep quiet inside the medicine cabinet as he cummed in his hand imagining how he would take you on the gurney, hell he had even had to clean up the mess with his medical coat.

In spite of everything the suggested treatment was not a lie… you needed to relax and a couple of orgasms could help you a lot. He knew perfectly well that you hadn't slept with anyone for months and part of it was his fault; he had scared off most of the people who had any intentions with you and those who had escaped him weren't exactly your type, God knows you were a difficult one and you didn't hesitate to kick the ass of anyone who insisted too much. He gave a frustrated grunt and forced himself to get on with his work.

-

Three days passed since your consultation and things were not going as you expected and that had nothing to do with the supplements or the lack of meatballs in the food. It was rather the fact that it was the second night you had woken up in the middle of the night thanks to a dream in which Law's long fingers were sliding over your clit and his mouth over yours kissing you tightly. The first time you woke up so agitated that Ikkaku thought you were going to die, you looked at her embarrassed and lied to her telling her it had been a nightmare and the second time you had woken up suddenly drenched in sweat around 4 am and couldn't fall asleep again.

You definitely had to do something about it or you would end up totally tired in the middle of the day. You had joined the heart pirates about a year ago, since then your only make out had been behind a bar after drinking a lot and it had ended in a not so satisfactory way; you thought that being a pirate would bring you more opportunities with men however there were not many who were interested in you and clearly you had no intention of repeating that experience so you avoided drunks no matter how attractive they were. It seemed pathetic but after a while you began to accept it, there hadn't been any problems so far.

Sure sometimes you felt horny, especially when you ovulated, however it was something you had coped with calmly but now you couldn't stop thinking about it and the situation got worse when the object of your desire was your captain. The metal floor felt cold on your bare feet as you walked to the medical bay, it was 2 am so you were sure you would be alone; you opened the door cautiously and walked in making sure to close the door.

– It's late... – A voice sounded in the darkness, you shivered even with your hands on the door lock.

– Ca... captain I didn't know you were here – Your gaze wandered to the desk to find him sitting there illuminated only by the dim flickering light of the outside light. What was he doing in the middle of the night with the light off anyway? – I’m sorry… I'll... I'll go back to my room – You said turning your gaze to the door.

– It seems wise but… – He said with a smirk – I thought you didn't want to do your exercises but here you are walking in the dark without shoes... I couldn't hear you until you opened the door – Your face felt hot with embarrassment – Have you had any strange symptoms? – His voice that until now had seemed casual changed to a more serious tone like the one you had heard during the medical appointment. You remained quiet still in front of the door – Well? – He insisted, you turned around to meet his gaze.

– I have a little insomnia, that's all – You lied.

– Then what are you doing here? You could go anywhere else – You opened your mouth to answer but he was quicker – It's not good to lie to your doctor… How will you get well that way? – He opened the drawer to pull out a pair of gloves and moved the chair a bit away from the desk and sat again – Come here – His tone still sounded professional yet there was a spark of mandate that hadn't been there before.

You walked hesitantly to the front of the desk as he put his gloves on. You looked at his hands carefully and after a few seconds you looked away, he did not move from his chair just looked you up and down. You felt totally vulnerable: You were not wearing a bra, just a light blouse with thin straps that barely covered your belly button and elastic shorts, you were on their way to a summer island so it was a little hot.

– I said come here – He tapped the desk a couple of times. You looked at him confused for a moment, but his look seemed serious so you circled the desk cautiously, you positioned yourself between his chair and the desk – Perfect, now sit please – He said looking at you from the chair and you bit your lip nervously while you leaned slightly on the table – Ideally we should do this on the stretcher but we don't want to make too much noise.... as I say it's late – He repeated and then his covered hand stretched towards you until it touched the inside of your knee – I suggest you sit or you will fall – You sat up fully and his hand started to move up on your bare thighs – I'm going to show you how to do it properly – Your breathing started to quicken.

His hand caressed your thighs going up slowly until he reached the bottom of the fabric that now it seemed to be too short – Oh pretty cute – He said while he played with the small lace that adorned the edges of the bastille and with a slow movement he began to caress your crotch on the fabric with his right hand while his left hand continued to go up and down on your thighs. After a few seconds a sigh left your mouth as his hands worked masterfully over your clothes, you closed your eyes.

It's not real You thought trying to flooded your mind I am dreaming

His hand went inside your shorts and caressed over your underwear that was starting to get wet – Let's take this off – He said in a neutral tone.

You opened your eyes and met him, there were a couple of things you hadn't noticed: his hair was a little messy and his shirt had all the buttons open. You leaned on your feet and slid the fabric down your hips to the floor, nervously you sat back on the desk with your legs closed – Excellent – He indicated, you hesitated a few seconds until you felt his hand on your knee – I need you to open your legs again – You opened them slowly. He positioned himself again in the center – I want you to watch carefully – His hands went up your thighs cautiously until they reached your pussy, the tip of his fingers began to trace the shape of your labia majora until he went to the a little up where he found your clit – We are going to work your clit today.... I'm going to show you how and then you'll do it for yourself – He made a circular motion over your sensitive skin and then down to your entrance – You're pretty wet so we can work with that – He moistened his fingers at your entrance and returned to your clit just like he had done during the exam.

– Let's play with a medium pressure in a circular way to stimulate you – you let out a sigh when his fingers started to move – Like this... it feels good doesn't it? – You nodded looking at him as his fingers were sliding creating a delicious friction – I prefer the answers to be verbal, let's try, shall we? – He said looking into your eyes

– Yes... yes captain – You said with difficulty.

– Very good girl, you are an excellent patient – He answered pleased – Now we are going to alternate with ascending and descending movements, these are going to be in a faster rhythm – As soon as his movements changed your breathing instantly became agitated, he looked at you and smiled. You started to feel more aroused, you fully open your legs to allowed him to moisten his fingers with your juices making the rhythm accelerate. You began to gasp and suddenly he returned to the initial slow gyrating rhythm causing an electric sensation to rise from your pussy to your lower stomach and you let out a low moan – How was that? Did you feel it? – He loved to watch you fall apart in his hands.

– We... well... yes it was very good – You tried to gather your thoughts but he started to pick up the pace again.

– It's called edging – He said – Let's do it a couple more times – With that you began to feel the pressure build up again – That’s it... very good – His left hand left your thigh and rested in his lap without stopping touching you.

You let out a needy moan – Are you close honey? – the pet name had escaped him as his professional side was beginning to slip. Then just as the knot was about to loosen inside you he pulled his hand away, a sound of frustration left your lips and you began to tremble.

– Please... – you said looking at him imploringly – please captain....–

– Look at this, you're soaking wet darling – he patted a couple of times over pussy and got his fingers wet from your entrance – Alright... let's make you cum – He started touching you again making circular movements in a medium rhythm, at some point the hand in his lap started moving over his length.

Your arms began to give out and you had to lean your elbows on the desk – Captain... damn it – his fingers moved mercilessly over your clit, you could feel the spasms of your orgasm building inside you. Your eyes closed, your hips shook and your breathing became erratic.

– Don't hold back – He told you in a growl, you let out a high pitched scream and then you saw stars. The warm sensation spread through your lower stomach and you flexed your knees trying to close your legs – No... let's spread it – his other hand came back to you to keep your legs open and he looked at you without stopping touching you, you were trembling from the over stimulation you couldn't hold yourself anymore and you leaned back completely on the desk.

One of your hands took his with a weak grip to stop the movements – I can't... I... it's too much – You said pleadingly, his eyes were darker than usual and looked at you hungrily, for a moment you thought he was going to get angry but he just smiled. He lifted his wet hand and put it in your mouth, you moaned into his fingers as you tasted yourself, he pumped a couple of times and pulled them out without further creating a trail of saliva.

– Perfect – He said as he settled back in his chair, took off his gloves and threw them into the trash can – Let's rest for a moment – You tried to understand his words as you regulated your breathing with difficulty – You have to show me that you can do it alone – A few minutes passed and just when the endorphins began to leave your body, reality fell upon you.

Clearly this was not a dream, you were practically naked in the medical bay in front of him, he had touched you and you had the best orgasm of your fucking life. You began to get up gingerly, Law looked up from the chair without saying anything; your feet touched the floor and your trembling legs struggled to support you.

– I'm waiting honey – He said without taking any notice of your attempt to run away – Show me what you learned and you'll be free to go –

The button of his jeans was open and the zipper down, his erection was noticeable – Law… – His name sounded glorious on your lips.

– Be a good girl and show me – He interrupted you. His hand began to move over his boxers revealing his erection, you lost your breath as he began to slowly stroke and it was huge and curved slightly upwards. You feel yourself craving for him.

The heat was starting to build up between your legs again, you licked your lips and closed your eyes to take a breath. You leaned back on the desk and spread your legs, your hand went to your pussy; you started to slowly caress it, feeling small shivers. Two of your fingers were making circular movements over your clit and you opened your eyes… He was watching you from the chair with his hand on his cock, you started to tremble as you accelerated the rhythm – That darling, very nice – His hand was sliding down his shaft following the rhythm of your movements – Now slower... – Your pussy protested with a spasm when you stopped to slow down the rhythm.

– Holy shit... – You said in a low voice while trying to recover your eyes couldn't stop looking at him. He was breathing heavily, his eyes were fixed on you, he let out a small sigh when you started again and ran his other hand through his hair to see you clearly.

You speed up the rhythm again at his image, that was all, you didn't intend to make it longer or you were going to faint. With linear movements you traced a fast rhythm over your clit, your legs trembled as the orgasm began to form inside you – Slowly – He said with a grunt, you could see how the pre seminal fluid adorned his tip.

You decided that was enough, your rhythm remained steady until you climaxed closing your eyes. You were a difficult person, he knew that and making you follow instructions sometimes was not easy. However he was also quite close, he stroked faster and after a few moments he cum at the sight of your body sunk in ecstasy, he could punish you later.

Both of you were breathing heavily as you recovered, after a moment you heard him get up but you didn't open your eyes. After a while you felt something soft between your legs: he was cleaning you.

– Not listening to your doctor can have consequences – He said seriously – Especially if he is also your captain –

– It was quite a difficult task… – you answered between breaths.

– You're going to have to put more effort into it tomorrow – he replied as he helped you up.

You looked at him as he lifted your clothes off the floor and helped you put them back on – 02:00 am – He said putting his hands on your hips and looked you in the eyes – Now rest and remember to drink plenty of water to recover fluids – With that he walked away.

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x female reader #Trafalgar D Law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law one piece #fanfic #one piece fanfiction

[blessyourhondahurley]

Part 1: Morning

After the best (mostly) sleepless night of his life, Dean wakes up to the start of a very special day.

(Read on AO3)

Dean can't sleep.

He's had sleepless nights before, of course. Hundreds, honestly thousands of them. Nights when his blood screamed with adrenaline left over from a recent fight. Nights when the pain of fresh wounds throbbed with every heartbeat. Nights when his head spun from whiskey, and cigarettes cadged off of friendly strangers. He's lain awake in anger, in despair, in loneliness, in exhaustion so deep it drove away the very cure it craved. He's spent bleak hours watching the numbers change on a cheap motel's cheap clock, too overwhelmed with dread for the coming day to allow himself even the respite of a long blink.

Today, though, for the first time in his harrowed life, he is wide awake with joy.

It's a few ticks past 4 a.m. according to the pretty nice clock on his pretty nice dresser. He is curled on his side in his bed, wrapped in warmth, listening to the pre-dawn birdsong, and he's so full of joy he thinks he might cry with it. He'd turned in shortly after midnight, but sleep so far hasn't come to him. He's just been lying there all night, smiling into the dark like a crazy person.

It's the sweetest vigil he's ever kept.

~~~~~

To his own great surprise, he must actually manage to fall asleep at some point, despite the joy (and the birds), because when the alarm rings at quarter of six, it jolts him out of a gauzy dream. The blankets shift and the form beside him unfurls. Cas gives a low, rumbling groan that Dean can feel in his spine as he's spooned snugly from behind. An arm wraps around his waist, a broad hand flattens on his belly, possessive.

“Too early,” the love of his life grumbles. Dean can't help but grin.

“You're the one who set the alarm, baby,” he chuckles, nudging a gentle elbow back into his bed mate's ribs. “We've got a busy day ahead of us, remember, and you said it was important that we had, and I am quoting you here directly, 'enough time to eat a filling, nutritious breakfast'.”

Cas drops a dry kiss, sleepy and slantwise, onto the side of his neck. “I regret every word,” he rasps.

“Oh really?” Dean says. “Because I also remember you including a slot in the agenda for morning sex. You regret that part too?”

Another kiss, this one firmer and with a hint of teeth. Cas's hand slips down Dean's tummy and insinuates itself under the elastic of his boxers. “On second thought I stand by my earlier statement in its entirety.”

It never takes Dean long to get riled up in the mornings, not when it's Cas doing the riling. Twenty minutes later, they're giggling in the shower, bodies flushed and blushing with post-coital glow. The day already feels golden, and his body feels weightless, like decades of fatigue and wear have fallen away from him. He's starting to contemplate a soap-slicked round two, his dick plumping a little between their bellies, when Cas slaps his ass hard and shoves him out of the spray.

“Go make me pancakes. You promised.”

“Bossy,” Dean says as he reaches for a towel. “You're lucky I love you.”

Cas turns off the water and gives him a gummy grin. “Yes, I am. I want mine with chocolate chips, thanks.”

Grumbling good-naturedly about eons-old entities with palates like a toddler's, Dean pulls on a clean pair of boxers and heads to the kitchen.

~~~~~

“Are you sure we have everything we need?” Cas asks him again. It's ten or fifteen to 9:00, and they need to get on the road soon if they want to be on time. On cue, the last-minute jitters have shown up. Cas is standing in the middle of the kitchen, wringing his hands together and looking around like he's never seen the place before in his long, long life. “I just feel like we're forgetting something,” he says plaintively.

Dean slots the last of the breakfast dishes in the drainer and turns to wrap him up in a hug. He kisses the spot on his beloved's forehead where his eyebrows are drawn up with worry.

“We're good, babe,” he soothes. “I checked and triple-checked. The car's packed, the calls have been made, the paperwork is all filed, I even took the trash out already.”

He can feel Cas's body relax in his arms as he runs down the list. Once the worst of the tension has dissipated, he pulls away (because they really are on a schedule here) and pecks out one more quick forehead kiss. “Today is gonna go off without a hitch,” he promises.

Cas smirks, puts a little tease in his voice. “Not even one hitch?” he asks.

Dean laughs. He has to kiss him for real then. They let it go on a bit too long, but, well, fuck it. It's their day. “C'mon, sweetheart,” he says, grabbing his fiance's hand and tugging him towards the garage. “Let's go get married.”

Continues here

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fluff

[kingofdarkness00]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you once again for the tag, @anewkindofme! ❤

Here's a snippet from Day 14 of Regressuary:

Athena peeked her head into Buck's room, where her little boy was currently in bed sleeping. Slivers of the midday sun made their way through the curtains, falling over his frame just enough to showcase the entire left side of his swollen cheek. While an unfortunate familiar sight now, she still couldn't help but feel her heart ache in sympathy and a stab of anger go through her whenever she laid eyes on his poor, sweet face.

For the past four days Buck had been laid up in her and Bobby's home, regressed and sick with the mumps. The mumps, of all things. An illness that could have been prevented if he had been vaccinated in his early childhood like he was supposed to be.

When the doctor deemed that the fatigue, loss of appetite, and the body aches Buck had been experiencing weren't from the flu like they had all originally thought, but instead a case of the mumps. It was a shocking diagnosis to all of them, including the doctor himself. With the vaccine having been around for decades and decades now, it was rare to see mumps in either children or adults these days. Which meant Buck had never been vaccinated for it–which would be confirmed by Maddie over the phone later that same day. Yet another reason that cemented her hate for the Buckley parents.

The doctor said that other than over the counter pain medication, cold or hot compresses, and a lot of rest, there was really nothing else Buck could do until the illness ran its course. Bobby–who had taken Buck to his appointment–had called her to update her on the situation, and they both came to the decision that there was no way they were going to leave Buck in his apartment sick and alone. Buck easily agreed (which just proved to them that they'd made the right decision), and after a stop quick stop at the store to stock up on meds and other supplies they'd need for the next couple of weeks, Bobby brought him home. It was a little over twenty-four hours after that when the swelling set in, and it didn't take very long for the young man to regress.

Fortunately, Athena had managed to get the rest of the week off work, so she was able to stay home with Buck while Bobby went to work. He already put in to have the week off when she would be returning to work, though, in case Buck was still little then. It wouldn't come as a surprise to the couple if he was, given his tendency to regress whenever he came down with something other than a cold. They didn't mind, though. Whether he was sick or not, they would always be there to look after their boy when he needed them.

Athena watched the calm rise and fall of her son's chest. She hated to disturb him when he was finally sleeping soundly after the rough night he had, but she needed to check his temperature before any more time passed. His temperature had been fluctuating over the last day or so, and last night it had reached the highest it's been at, which made it impossible for the poor boy to get any restful sleep until the wee hours of the morning. Fortunately, after some Tylenol and a full body wet down using a washcloth soaked in ice water, Buck's temperature had gone down enough to not be as worrisome.

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @snarkythewoecrow, @tomwise and anyone else who wants to join!

#9-1-1 #athena grant #evan buckley #age regression #agere fandom #snippet #my fanfiction #tag game

[crimeronan]

can you talk about chronic illness themes in greywaren pretty please I’m so curious what you thought about the conclusion or lack therof

i've had this in my inbox for weeks and keep thinking about it and like. on the one hand i want to answer on the other hand i don't enjoy spending a lot of time talking about things i don't like. but i think i've nailed down the broad shape of my grievances wrt chronic illness real quick, so here's this and moving on

i think the first 2/3rds of greywaren were perfectly suited in tone to what dreamer trilogy had set up and there were Really good questions raised about matthew and jordan and declan and ronan and hennessy, i also think hennessy's arc (and the ronanessy culmination) was the only one that felt like it actually followed through on the chronic illness themes that had been set up. i was very very interested in jordan's thing about the act of creation keeping her awake, there's some good metaphors about artist survival there, tho ymmv. i know a lot of people with chronic fatigue aren't fond of it bc making art is Tiring and sometimes you Cannot Do It but tbh what i didn't get from jordan i got fine from hennessy so. that's all fine. then the last few chapters of the book take a hard transition into "now i have to wrap this whole universe up prettily to avoid rude tweets" and that apparently meant not having any messiness on the page, which is a shame because complex nuanced messiness is where stiefvater's writing most thrives.

adam and ronan's resolution was boring they didn't fix any of the things that were a problem wrt ronan's chronic illness and adam's Everything, joining souls in space is stupid, they already KNEW they loved each other, the love was not the PROBLEM, the problem was that they were on fundamentally incompatible life paths and loving each other DOES NOT MAKE THOSE COMPATIBLE.

declan and matthew's resolution was nonexistent, i'm actually Very Okay with the whole "matthew walks home" plotline but i needed his POV of that journey and i needed WAY more on the page from declan at the end there and i needed WAY more than "i can be fine relying on you guys bc bryde told me i should" when declan's treatment of matthew up til then had shown NO indication that matthew can EVER trust him.

bryde is the sickest person in the series and his end was far too ambiguous for my taste, especially when up to that point he and matthew had been interrogating the EXACT themes i'd wanted to see about what it means to be a dream and to be this kind of chronically ill. like we were almost somewhere there and then we just dropped everything about.... everything.

meanwhile adam is torn apart on the astral for days and days and days but wakes up fine and then bam, we flip forward 4 years and he's normal and there's no indication of any potential issues even tho there were themes traced all the way back to cdth about him and hennessy having similar chronic illnesses (thru lace metaphor). the epilogue firmly establishes that everyone is Better and that they all have stuff Figured Out Now and while i like knowing where people end up, i don't like a resolution that boils down to "and now we never need to struggle again."

i did not like greywaren's takes (or lack thereof) on chronic illness because it felt like we can't exist in a "joyful comfort read" because chronic illness is Bad and the author wants to avoid nasty tweets about doing Bad Things to characters.

i want to know what greywaren would have been if its main purpose had been to carry thru the series themes instead of to make trc fandom shut up and feel pleased about their blorbos and move on. stief talked about how she had to do a lot of rewriting with the dreamer trilogy up through greywaren bc she was so angry about being sick and. i want the angry book. i want the drafts that weren't pared down and rearranged and cut apart and spliced together to appease every normie person who's never felt constant pain or fatigue a day in their lives. the first two books were for me and will always have been for me, they are The Most Personal Books I Have Ever Consumed, but in order for greywaren to be for me, it would have had to Not be for certain people, and. well.

greywaren is for everyone.

so. shrug emoji. i guess.

#replies #greywaren #greywaren spoilers #greywaren negativity #another post that is NOT for stief's eyes do not tweet this at her or so help me god #greywaren meta

[artistic-writer]

a year gone by

Many of you will know that for the last year or so, I have had very little, if any, fandom contact. I guess I should explain a little bit about what has been going down and what has kept me away.

My account would not let me in: And i am stubborn. So i stopped trying to get in. At the time i felt like the fandom was moving apart and I didn't want top to be apart of the he said she said that came along with it. I have seen a good number of new fandom members emerging, who are kind and loving and thoughtful on the Discord, and have made me want to come back.

Wilf: I got a second dog without realising the consequences of doing so and the impact it would have on my family. Wilf has his share of problems. He is my little ball of anxiety and I have been working through the many issues he has with him, but we are far from there yet. He is nearly 2 now <3

My health is in the tank: I have had several flare ups of my Fibromyalgia in the last few years, and many of them have made it difficult to sit still long enough. As you can imagine, this takes its toll on one's mental health. Yay having an illness that is worsened by inactivity. My nature is a little self destructive and i throw myself into work in order to forget about the pain, and that has led to severe fatigue, which in turn, is not conducive to writing or arting. I am sorry. Also, in April i had a work related accident where i thought i had just sprained my ankle, but as it turns out, i have detatched not one, but two ligaments, so am awaiting the outcome of will i/won't i need an operation? My appointment is in Dec.

I took up a hobby!: For nearly FOUR years I have been on the waiting list, trying to get into a dog sport called Flyball. FINALLY, my local team got back to us and Killian is running through their first course, and will hopefully be offered a place on the team! I have found a group of real human beings who 'get me' and so far, i am loving it!

I got a promotion at work: I am the boss now. for reals. i still cannot believe anyone would put me in charge of a team of people, but here we are. This eats up more of my time but also allows me to have a decent schedule - so should allow for more me time!

I went back to school: Obviously, not content with enough in my life, I enrolled on an Advanced Canine Behaviour Diploma course, for which i have a year to complete. I'm sure i can fit it in...somewhere. Collecting all the letters after my name, innit.

I work two jobs: 48 hrs a week in one job just wasn't enough, clearly. I am currently training with the Institute of Modern Dog Trainers (IMDT) and hope to become a fully accepted member at the satrt of next year. Their values align with everything i do in dog training, and although I currently offer 1-2-1's, classes, and such, I really want accolades that tell people I am the best. I currently work as a dog trainer Fridays, with the odd handstripping and groom thrown in between jobs.

My husband and I are working through some things: We are not actually married but it is easier to tell people we are rather than explain why we are not. We have had a very up-and-down few years, mainly because of miscommunication, but we are working through it because we are each other's soul mates. I would never want anyone else in my corner. maybe @hollyethecurious, but she's just there to hide the bodies. As such, we are making time for each other more, so I'll likely just be around in the evenings or weekends.

#life #about me #now you know

[system-of-a-feather]

I think I'm starting to get it a bit - where I fall into the system.

Riku can survive and flourish in the worst of situations, they're unbelievably resilient and stupendously optimistic and a source of hope, faith, and direction. They're invulnerable - even if you destroy them, functionably, the system will always step in and have a number of smaller parts we don't share on her to reinstate that invulnerable resilience and optimism. It's a priority. You can't take Riku off their feet.

XIV can dominate and breakdown the hells to operate in his name and get him what he needs and wants. He doesn't loose because loosing is fundamentally a concept he can't comprehend. If he would die before he looses and he has such an instinctually strong survival instinct. As long as he is alive, he will break down anything in the way of his vision. He is invulnerable - if he wants something there is nothing you can do to get in his way. If you do, if you manage to 'beat him' he will split and eat that shit back up as soon as he sees that he lost a match. He'll come back 10x stronger and take the win right bakc up. You can't declaw and defang XIV.

They're invulnerable parts - whether they like it or not - their nature as parts are functionally made to be invulnerable

And that is where you get a huge issue with our system. While it is pervasive in all parts, our system is structured around two parts heavily dissociated and functionably so cut off from being genuinely and wholely vulnerable. Even when they are, it is "but a stage in the journey" or only internally to one another.

I'm not smart enough, aggressive enough, or have enough piss and vinegar to do what XIV does - besides, I wouldn't need to. XIV is right there,

I'm just too much of an upset, hurt, and angry part to do what Riku does, I'm a negative nancy simple as that. I obviously can't be Riku, that's a given. (and also I don't think anyone in this system other than Riku can be Riku)

The thing that both of them don't have though that I think I could do with some reflection is that I can be vulnerable. I'm not this amazing or ridiculously specialized part. I'm split as what a very hurt, self hating, and exhausted part thought was the "monster" they were stuck being and I think its a ridiculous thing in hindsight, because I'm REALLY not a monster at all.

But my existence is founded on hurt, self loathing, fatigue, exhaustion, and weakness. I operate in a similar way to XIV as Data tried to cope with his shit by borrowing from those around him and instinctually, I want to hate everything around me that breathes. I want to hate everything that has played into the situation Data!old had gotten themselves trapped in before splitting. I want to avoid everything and isolate because everything is a disappointment to me.

I have no reason to be nice and open to the world. I come from garbage and hurt, I don't owe it to anything or anyone - but thats the thing. I think Data!old deserved a lot better. I think Data!old deserves better. I could sit comfortably by and live in the shit ending I was split off and be comfortable saying I am done, but that would be me accepting that Data got fucked over by the world.

This brain and my trauma and my symptoms tell me to not talk to anyone, don't give anyone expectations you are anything more than who you are - if you are nice, theyll expect you to be nice and theyll punish you when you are normal. I should stick to myself and everyone else is a waste of time and space and get in the way.

But that's how we got here, and if there is anything I got from splitting from Data!old, it is the ability to talk about things without getting shut down. I was given the gift to be able to do the exact opposite of what I'm 'supposed' to do. I was given the ability to CHOOSE to engage in the world against what my history has told me.

I know vulnerability, I know weakness, I know hurt, I know self hate, I know pain. All of that is the root of why I am instinctually misanthropic - people have hurt us a lot, and it has gone unacknowledged because we are run by two massive beasts of invulnerability.

No one has given that hurt a voice and I think thats where I come in. I am prone to anger and aggression, I am prone to envy and jealousy and wanting to get revenge - but I'm not XIV, I'd rather just have peace by myself and disengage than to actually express that. I don't have that drive for chaos and crisis, I already have enough. I'm not interested. I don't have that high energy / activation energy and that is actually my strength in relation to XIV. It's very easy for me to just deal with those lower valence negative emotions without it getting converted to anger / aggression or without me getting consumed by or anger / aggression.

I can look at my anger, and acknowledge it, and make a choice. Usually I leave, I remove the body from stimuli and isolate away from people, but an alternative choice I could make is to take that and give in a microphone.

There is no point is pulling XIV and Riku into learning vulnerability directly; not only is that an uphill battle but it might shatter some of their strength.

I think I am here to be vulnerable by choice - a conscious and consenting CHOICE to give people the chance to hear our hurt, our vulnerability, and to respond. Talking is a gift, an active decision, to those close to me, and should they abuse that gift and trust, then they will simply get me back to my root - ignored and cut off from us.

XIV taught the system that there is no evil part - that all parts deserve a space regardless of how they are and that we have to radically accept all parts. He taught us radical acceptance and internal vulnerability.

I guess what I have to do is teach that being vulnerable doesn't inherently have to mean being at the whim of another person - you can simultaneously hold a sense of control and hold boundaries while ALSO acknowledging that needs and wounds are present.

#alter: chunn #system dynamics #healing #recovery #vulnerability #I've been stuck up here all day #either blurred with riku or co-con its a pain

[quirkwizard]

Good morning, evening or night, this will be my last attempt at least in creating the quick xd (I also apologize if it is very long) Quirk: Berserker The user ignites his bursting into smoking pink skin, increasing his size up to 5 meters, his physical abilities are improved. The user moves quite quickly for someone his size. Its durability allows it to largely withstand shots from low caliber weapons, fight with many enemies at once, and continuing to fight with dozens of wounds. (1/2)

The most important factors are his resistance to pain as well as his incredible strength, being able to crush a small bus with effort. Weaknesses: The transformation generates an incredible tension in the user's body as well as increases their levels of aggressiveness. They will not attack their allies and can continue talking, but is more irritable, when the user turns off their Quirk the body experiences extreme fatigue depending of how much he has exerted himself at a point where his body suffers from fatigue without being able to move for a short time. (2/2)

I think there is something in the idea, but it really needs to cut down on certain aspects. Aside from dropping the size increase, I just don't get the point of it this with the power increase they get and it doesn't really fit with the idea of a berserker, the biggest issue is are the downsides. While I appreciate how you don't have the user lose total control of themselves, making it more comparable to something like "Beast" and how it only makes the user more excitable, I would remove the aggressiveness of it. I understand that is the point of the power given the name, but it just doesn't feel needed for balance. I think that all the tension and stress that comes from using it works fine for this idea. Maybe if you make that tension a less notable part of the power, then it would fit better in with the rest of it. Though on that note, I think that part of it is way too prominent. Leaving the user so vulnerable they can't even move after using it is pretty extreme for a downside. I just would have it so the Quirk fatigues the user faster and having them be tired once they leave it as well. This would put a limit on their power, encourage them to be aggressive with it, and you don't have the issue of being so open to taking damage.

#My Hero Academia #Quirks #Quirk Reviews

[kimmimaru]

So, probably a bit TMI (mentions of mental health) for random internet strangers but oh well. I'm sticking it under a cut for people who don't care lol.

So, I've been having a...difficult time lately. I'll keep it simple and just say I'm struggling pretty bad with personal shit. Anyway, I was considering looking into counselling but the NHS no longer fund talking therapy, it's only CBT and stuff which is helpful but not what I need. So I'd have to pay through the nose. And even if I could afford it I've only been able to find 1 single person in my entire town who specialises in treating autistic people. There may be more but honestly I have no idea where to even begin looking. Also like there's loads of groups for older people and people with toddlers but nothing for parents of older kids, groups for the parents I mean. I struggle very badly with making friends and talking to people, I'm awkward as fuck and have no idea how to socialise. Unfortunately I'm not a child so don't have anywhere to go to meet people like me. It's hard to make friends when neurotypicals have an instinctual dislike of autistic people (ok not everyone but apparently they can identify people as 'weird' without even speaking to them and generally tend to avoid us). Sorry, I did say this was probably TMI, but I'm just so fucking lonely and so stressed I'm having heart palpitations. I'm not sleeping either and unfortunately I don't have anyone to actually talk to about it so this is why I'm posting this here. Its at least just getting it all off my chest, even if it's not a long term solution maybe it'll be enough to actually help me get some sleep tonight. My mum was the person I talked to about all this shit, the only one I felt I could actually confide in and she's gone. I have family but they're busy with their own lives and tbh...I never felt like they ever really got me. My dad's a very closed off man, not in a cold way, he was always affectionate but he and my mum got divorced a long time ago and since then I've never felt able to talk to him about deep stuff. I suppose it's something to do with broken trust and all that crap. My sisters are way too busy and have their own problems and lives and my only brother is a lot older than me and far away. They all love me and care about me, I have never doubted it but none of them are neurodivergent. They don't understand me really and never have (that's not a self pitying 'oh woe is me' it's just a fact). It's a very weird feeling to be surrounded by people who love you but knowing they just don't get you. I am extremely aware that people would kill to have what I do, a big, loving family and they try really hard to understand and help but sometimes you just need more weirdos like you who see the world the same way and have the same kind of issues you do. What I want is a day. Just one single fucking day where I can just do what I need to do around the house without just staring at it for hours before I work up the spoons to do it. I want one day where I can actually do something creative as I've lost my drive (probably temporary, depression usually has the opposite affect on me and I write MORE when I'm depressed for some reason). I want to play with my daughter without constantly worrying about if she'll eat something other than junk food (she's an extremely picky eater), or is she'll take a bath without a fight or if she'll actually drink something for a change (yes, we are in contact with doctors about all this, it's just an extremely slow process). I want to wake up and not be exhausted for a change, I want to not be in constant pain for no fucking reason (chronic fatigue...yay). I want to not spend my days unable to focus on anything, to not be constantly disassociating because my stupid brain can't cope with too much sensory input. I am exhausted, I'm grieving and I just want to be normal for a fucking change. Anyway, it's all a lot more complicated than what I've written and it's very unlikely this makes any sense at all. But I needed to write it down, to tell someone, somewhere just so I can stop obsessing over all these thoughts. Maybe now I can sleep.

#Rant post #very long #I don't expect anyone to read this it's a little bit more personal than what I usually post and I'm sorry for that

[lunerabo]

grape juice

cw: sub!Choso, dom!vampire!AFAB!Reader, neck biting, blood drinking, vampire typical behaviors, slight dub-con if you squint, handjob, pet names (‘baby boy’, ‘sweet thing’), hair pulling, begging, p in v, riding, dacryphilia, Choso passes out

You think you’re awake.

It’s not the usual time you leave, far earlier than that. The sun is nowhere near showing itself. It’s not like you to wake before then.

Your nighttime companion slumbers beside you, bare and spent from the fun you had just hours ago. You recall with fondness feeding him fruit from a decorative bowl on your nightstand and tasting it on his tongue when you kissed him. The smell of the candles tucked away in the corners of the room has outlasted the smell of sex.

Your head swims, but unlike how it did earlier, this is far less pleasant. Your vision, superb as it is in the blackness of the room, darkens the blues and greys of the scene before you, blurry around the edges, fading in and out. Your gut twists and growls.

Why now? You weren’t hungry earlier. Sure, it had been some time since you’d fed, but you hadn’t really felt it yet. You thought he was safe tonight. But your pain and fatigue are very real, and there’s no guarantee you’ll find easy prey once you leave. Choso is a lot of fun—as delicious as you’re sure he is in there, you don’t want to go and ruin it by draining him. Your time with him is already temporary.

You drink in the sight of him in the hopes of staying your hunger, battling it with thoughts of your affections, of what you don’t want to see lost.

A mop of black hair. Tired eyes. The distinct mark of a little black horizon across his nose. He’s just so pretty, it makes your mouth water.

You take a grape, fat and ripe, between your fingers. There are plenty more to take from the bowl, but they won’t sate your hunger. You don’t know why you try.

The line between mate and prey blurs before your very eyes, and you do your best to shake that image from your mind. Yet still you stare as he shifts in his sleep, fingers twitching, nose wrinkling. He breathes a little heavier than before, and the thump of his rabbiting heart and the rush of his blood just beneath the bared skin of his neck has you in a haze. Perhaps he knows he is no longer safe. Perhaps he senses the danger he’s in, but has yet to wake.

The fruit is firm between your lips, a promise of a generous reward if you just bite.

Your lover stirs, pulse racing in his warm chest, and you watch, mesmerized.

The skin taut, the flesh swollen.

It takes merely a slow push of your teeth into it to make it burst on your tongue, its nectar rich and plentiful and far sweeter than you remember fruit being. Hunger does have a way of doing that.

Your beloved cries out, eyes wide, and your chin is stained with blood.

You glance at your fingertips, and the half of the fruit you could swear you were holding a second ago has disappeared. Blood paints the place where it sat. Choso’s blood. You reach for words, but find none to grab at.

His breathing shakes, and he nearly leaps out of his skin when you move.

“I didn’t mean to.”

He swallows, and holds his hand to his wound.

“What was that?”

Another period of involuntary silence. You turn on the small nightstand lamp and hesitate to look back at him, licking across the teeth whose purpose now becomes apparent to him. The realization of what exactly it is he’s been sleeping with dawns on him, but he doesn’t show it much.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I’m… I’m just so hungry.”

“Are you going to eat me?” He asks, and his voice is so small, like a little mouse you could frighten away with just a blink. He doesn’t know what a vampire is, you realize. One thing he senses for certain is that you are a predator, and he, very very vulnerable prey. Why you haven’t gotten on with feasting on his flesh with his innards torn out and strewn across the bed is a mystery to him.

“No, I’m not going to eat you. I need blood, I just… I can’t… wait. I can’t wait until I find someone else. My meal isn’t guaranteed if I leave.”

“How many people have you killed?”

“What? I’ve never killed anyone.”

“How can I trust you?”

“I didn’t kill you.”

He at last rises to his knees before you, understandably still apprehensive and flighty. He glances down to find himself a little hard, too, and he’s not sure why, when this is not a situation he’d ever find sexual. He’s never feared for himself quite like this. Did you do that? What is this? Does he have to worry about you hurting him there?

You notice, and he seems to shrink back into himself a little.

“You’re human. That happens sometimes. You’re just scared.”

Human, he reminds himself. He wasn’t aware of the fact that, apparently, that means being prey. For monsters like you.

Tentatively, making sure he knows where you’re moving, you reach for him. Not for his throat, not for his cock, and not for the racing heart that your hunger yearns to rip from his chest—but for his hand, which you place your own over as he trembles.

“I won’t hurt you again. Not without your say-so.”

His wide eyes search yours, as if picking through your thoughts to find a scrap of a lie. Could you really have the self control to stop yourself from draining him dry? And if you did, how would that affect him? How much would you take? What does he risk? But through the myriad of uncertainties that flood his mind, one truth stands out to him, catching his attention; you don’t want to harm him, not really. He doesn’t know what to call it, but it’s a feeling, some small but impossibly strong tug of what he has every reason to believe is delusion imploring him to trust that there really is something more you feel for him beyond base hunger. If you were as much of an animal as he believed, he would have been made your livestock long ago.

“Do I risk dying if I let you?” He breathes, cautious. He really does love you, and he doesn’t want to force you away. Perhaps if he offers that olive branch, even if he’s not entirely certain he wants to, he may not have to let you go.

“… the more I drink, the easier it’ll be to stop myself. I can do that. I don’t need much.”

It’s a little off putting. It may not have been a simple yes or no, but nothing in that statement implied that he would in fact die, and that’s all he needs, really.

“You can, um. If you can’t live without it, and you won’t kill me, you can… have some.”

He’s not sure why he’s doing this. He quivers, but there’s an underlying feeling of delight in his fear. Excitement. Anticipation. Gentle hands reassure him, fingers creeping up his nape and tilting his head as you lean in, wordless and practically drooling on him.

It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the first time. The wound weeps as you close your lips around it, teeth only barely grazing the skin. There is no need to bite again. Warm and coppery, it floods your mouth, and his body reflexively shies away from the dull, throbbing ache blooming in his neck. Tears threaten to fall but his cock jumps, desperate for attention, and yet you deprive him of it. You won’t make a move until he tells you to, but doing that is far too embarrassing. But between the hand in his hair, the sucking at his neck, and the rhythmic, languid, almost erotic dips of your head as you enjoy your midnight meal, he fears he may say it involuntarily. He can’t blame you for the state he’s in, for he clearly tastes good. That, and the fact that he could’ve tasted like bile for all you cared, and you would have enjoyed it purely for sating your hunger.

But you detach yourself at last, licking over the now much more obvious mark, kissing at his jaw in silent apology. You think he understands. He bucks his hips, grabbing at your wrist, and pulling it insistently between his legs. He can’t take it anymore.

“Okay, easy, easy. I’ll take care of it for you.” Your palm smears the pre already pearling at his tip, and the featherlight touch alone elicits a brief, sharp wail. He’s so impossibly aroused, and the abrupt manner in which he turns to mush under your touch has you soaked. He would let you do anything to him when he’s in this state, you’re sure. That’s a dangerous place to be, with you.

“Did my bite make you all sensitive, baby?” You ask him, and sleepy eyes meet yours in confirmation.

His hips stutter and buck into your hand, but he doesn’t try to stop them. He always seems to lose his mind fast, but this is something different. This is something new.

“Can I sit on you? Can I make you cum for me, baby boy?” You ask, and he whines loudly as an affirmative. “Oh, come here.”

You let him taste his own blood on your teeth and tongue, and you can feel in your palm the way he shivers in confused delight. He leaks and pulses in your grip, and his breath becomes shallow and quick, like he’s crying.

Swinging your leg over his waist, you prop yourself up on his chest with your elbow, and he ruts against you, mind driven into messy knots. He nearly goes limp when you do sit on him, rolling your hips over him just enough to make him a little louder for you. He chews his lip, as if that might do much to quiet his noise, and it’s so precious, so adorable, that you simply can’t help yourself.

“Mhh- you said you wouldn’t drink that much.”

“I know what I said, I’m sorry. Just give me a little more.”

And without apprehension, he yields his throat to you as you feed.

A sleepy, numb, almost sick feeling spreads within him, and his vision becomes blurry and black around the edges, and the walls and ceiling swim around him as his rutting against you slows. He struggles to stay awake under you. He shakes violently to keep conscious, willing his hands to move to their favorite place on your hips, but it takes far more effort than anticipated.

The mark you leave is purple and bloody, but no longer leaking. Blunt fingers claw at your back and you know he nears his end, thighs twitching and jerking and chest rising and falling in a series of brief and shallow gasps. It feels too good to have any hope of backing down from that precipice, too far gone already, the only choice to let go and plummet.

And he does—deep inside you, wailing and hiccuping as he does, and you rub furiously at yourself to join him. His crying sends you over the edge, and he yelps once more as you squeeze him. His breath is hot on your shoulder as you descend and bury your head in his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I won’t take that much again. You did so well, and you taste so good…”

Your tongue lashes out at his wound again, but you don’t drink anymore. His hand creeps up into your hair, tangling fingers into it, forearm laid flat across your bare back. He’s unresponsive after that.

“Choso?”

He’s already unconscious. No doubt largely from the loss of fluids, but the rigorous activity certainly didn’t help. His chest still heaves and his heart still races, but there’s no mistaking it. His eyes don’t move under his eyelids, his brow is relaxed, and his arm sits limp and nearly lifeless on your back. You’ll help him get cleaned up in a couple of hours when the sun rises, you figure.

Though you aren’t looking forward to the complaints about the soreness in his neck.

#choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso x you #choso smut #choso kamo #sub!choso #sub choso #sub choso smut #sub!choso smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #sub jjk smut #jjk smut #sub!jjk #dom reader #dom!reader #sub choso kamo #sub!choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen smut #sub jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen

[grahamstoney]

Mastering Emotions at Passionately Alive

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/emotions/mastering-emotions-passionately-alive

Mastering Emotions at Passionately Alive

I often feel that my emotions are running my life. When it comes to happiness, joy, peace and love, that’s fine by me; but when it’s fear, sadness, anxiety, loneliness or depression, that’s not so good. We like to think that we’re in conscious control of our lives all the time, but the reality is that everything we do is driven by an emotion of one sort or another. We’re constantly either seeking the pleasant emotions or avoiding the unpleasant ones. Our emotions exist in our subconscious, so we often aren’t consciously aware of them until they pop up strongly enough to interrupt what we’re doing and make their presence felt. But they still play their role whether we acknowledge it or not; and if we ignore them, they just get louder and stronger until we start paying attention.

Our society places a premium analytical thinking and often downplays the importance of emotions. We learn very little about the role of emotions in our lives at school or university; which is ironic considering that it’s not our analytical thinking that is driving our behaviour: it’s our emotions. If we really want to get a handle on running our lives more effectively, we need to deal with how we feel. As a guy growing up in a family where emotions weren’t generally expressed directly but were often bottled up, I had lots of practice at pushing down how I felt for many years. Yet I always knew I had strong feelings; I just felt out of place in a family and society where they didn’t seem to be recognised. A bit like a square peg in a round hole. Not surprisingly, when I did start to deal with some of the emotional pain I had experienced in life, it wasn’t particularly pleasant. But it was either that, or suffer an awful loneliness, anxiety and depression. Emotions are the key binding force between people and being able to recognise and express them is essential for having really meaningful relationships. Empathy is the basis of all deep connections between us, and unless we know how to express how we feel, that’s not going to work so well.

My 20-year career in engineering was great fun while it lasted, but none of the training or on-the-job experience dealt with the topic of emotions. So I figure I have some catch-up work to do. Many women I meet complain about their disillusionment with men who are “like robots” when it comes to their emotional availability: workaholics, perfectionists, pessimists; all working hard to avoid how they feel or just lacking the skills or practise at expressing it. I don’t want to be one of them any more. Coming down with chronic fatigue 14 months ago also had a huge impact on me; one of its common symptoms is that feeling tired and sick all the time tends to magnify any unpleasant emotions; and it’s the emotional and psychological toll that this takes more than the physical illness which causes me suffering.

With all this is mind, I recently drove 900 km from Sydney to Melbourne to attend Nicholas de Castella’s Passionately Alive workshop on emotional mastery. I knew that a theoretical knowledge of emotions wasn’t going to cut it; I had to actually experience how I really felt, pleasant or unpleasant, to release the bottled up emotional energy and get a better handle on dealing with my emotions. I had met Nicholas briefly once before, and from what I read in his Heart Thoughts newsletter, I could see that he was the real deal when it came to putting emotional intelligence into practise and could provide a safe environment for doing so. We also had a bit in common: being the “sensitive” one in families where this hadn’t been validated, left-brained careers that ultimately became unfulfilling, and even the chronic fatigue thing. Nicholas seemed like a compassionate man, and I was pretty sure I’d be able to relate to what he had to say.

I knew I was tuned-in and ready for getting in touch with my emotions even before I arrived: A guy in the barber in Albury had suggested I take a back route to The Basin east of Melbourne, which took me past the turn-off to King Lake, a suburb devastated by recent bushfires with tragic loss of life and property. From far-off Sydney, the bushfires had been a media-frenzy far away, but I felt an immediate sense of heaviness as I drove through the burnt-out forest towards the workshop.

The workshop itself consisted of a 3½ day residential with a series of small group exercises and sharing in pairs. Each day built upon the previous one, as Nicholas shared his insights into the role of our emotions. We laughed, we cried, we danced, we sang, we got angry, we yelled and screamed, and we allowed ourselves to feel whatever we felt without being judged for it. It was all very cathartic. The process was intense, but I never felt anxious about what Nicholas was going to get us to do next. It was tremendously moving, and it was remarkable how close the group felt to each other due to the sharing that was going on and the respect we all showed for each other’s journey through life. During a Breathwork session, I literally felt emotional energy buzzing in my body for the first time.

There’s still a voice from the rational part of my brain that jumps in every now and then while doing any kind of emotional exercise to say that “this is ridiculous!”. Usually it sounds a lot like my mother. But I’m learning to not listen to it so much any more, go with my intuition and listen to my feelings instead. The emotion I struggle with the most is anxiety: it’s not always giving me helpful clues and more often than not, it seems to be getting in the way. Shame gets in the way too, big time. Both stop me from being free to be myself, to do what I want and have the life I truly desire.

Before Passionately Alive, I was feeling pretty anxious about a lot of things: my career, my relationships, and what I was doing with my life generally. At the workshop, I got a lot of my buried feelings off my chest, met other people willing to work at mastering their emotions too, and learned some new tools for continuing to do so in the future. I feel more peaceful now. I had a dream one night shortly after where I was being attacked by a robber, and as I woke in a state of panic I felt the fear rush through my body and leave, rather than hanging around like it used to do. I still wake up in the middle of the night sometimes wondering “where is my life all heading?”, but I’ve got more of a sense that I’m on the right track, whatever that is.

I wish all my friends and family would do things like Passionately Alive, so that we can all have deeper more meaningful relationships. This is the stuff that makes life worth living. If you struggle to find peace in your life or would like to be handling your emotions better, I highly recommend Passionately Alive. One of the ironies my group recognised was that the people who probably needed this training the most were the least likely to recognise it. So if you’ve never had any sort of training or therapy on the topic of emotions, but you just find some areas of life aren’t working as well as you’d like or you keep pushing other people away or pissing them off repeatedly, perhaps this is just what the doctor ordered for you too.

For more information on how you can get your emotions to work for rather than against you, check the Institute of Heart Intelligence website. If you register for Passionately Alive, please mention this website and my name to Nicholas, tell him I sent you.

#emotional energy #emotional intelligence #emotional mastery #empathy #heart intelligence #Nicholas de Castella #psychology #Emotions

[scaramoon]

he accidentally hurts you while sparring

DILUC, KAEYA, XIAO, CHILDE — gn!reader

warnings/genre: kinda hurt/comfort? idk it’s mostly fluffy, mentions of blood and (very) minor injuries, swearing in childe’s

notes: rbs are v much appreciated, please and ty !! also pls ignore that i got carried away w xiao’s </3

━━ diluc;

you’ll have to be insistent if you even want him to spar with you; he knows you’re fully capable of standing your ground but... he’s worried

he’ll act like he doesn’t, but it’s obvious that he keeps close by whenever you’re sparring with someone

but if you wear him down enough or you’re good with your words, you can convince him to be your sparring partner

lmao just tell him you’ll get kaeya to do it 💀

“don’t- don’t hold your sword like that.” he said, his tone was flat but you’d known him long enough to be able to find the concern in it.

“i know how to hold a sword, diluc,” you responded. “i asked for a partner, not a teacher, remember?”

red eyes flashed towards you and something like a smile appeared on your lover’s lips. you mirrored it, letting your lips curl into a grin.

“of course,” he said, smallest hint of a playful tone in his voice.

but he was quick, and you may have underestimated just how well trained he was. normally, you could have blocked him. this time, however, you weren’t expecting it and you’d already began to drop your dominant hand to your side.

he noticed that, but he was just a little too late. diluc was used to the momentum of his weapon, but it wasn’t often that he had to stop it. he tried to step back before he hurt you, your name falling from his lips, desperation and worry coating his voice.

and then, just as soon as he’s processed it, his claymore was on the ground and he was watching you crouch and hold your upper arm. your seethe of pain sent guilt rushing through him.

it took him a moment to decide whether or not to go over to you; he wanted to, he really wanted to, but a part of him feared that you didn’t want him near you.

he couldn’t help it though.

“y/n?” diluc’s tone was almost a command, loud but desperate, wanting you to look at him and tell him that you were perfectly fine — wanting that to be the truth.

tears pricked in the corners of your eyes but you looked at him nonetheless. he hated that look in your eyes. seeing you in pain was one thing, but the knowledge that he was the cause of it twisted his heart in unbearable ways.

“i’m ok, diluc,” you said, quieter than you normally would. “just a little scratch, see?”

you moved your hand from where it was holding onto your arm. blood coated your fingers and the clothing surrounding the new wound, but it was clear that the cut wasn’t deep.

he didn’t say anything. his lips were pressed into a thin line as he kneeled beside you. eyebrows pinned in worry and concentration evident in his eyes, he started ripping at your sleeve to get a better look.

“diluc.” you said. your voice was more commanding this time as you moved away from him. why couldn’t he see it really wasn’t so bad?

“i didn’t mean to hurt you.” this time you could see clearly just how distressed he was.

he looked like he was about to cry and he wasn’t the one that’d been hurt. not physically, anyway; you had no idea how his chest hurt, how he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

you stared at him for a little longer. “i said i’m fine. but if it will help you sleep at night, you can come help me clean it, deal?”

“of course, dove.”

━━ kaeya;

he actually likes sparring with you

he doesn’t often get the chance, but whenever both of you are able to, he sees it as time he gets to spend with you

and any time spent with you is never time wasted in his eyes

plus he gets to do the sword under your chin thing and tease you </3

“dead.” you said proudly, standing over your lover, your sword under his chin.

a playful grin spread across his lips as he let you enjoy your win. you backed away and allowed him to stand up, dust himself off. a stretch of his arms, and then he was picking up his sword to go again.

“ready?” kaeya asked, smirk stretching his lips.

“yeah,” you said, smiling back. your gloved hand tightened around your sword’s hilt; the gloves were making your hands sweaty, your grip loosening. “actually, w-”

“y/n!”

the next thing you realized was a stinging at you side. your hand immediately came to the cut, taking an instinctive step back. the sound of kaeya’s sword hitting the ground met your ears, his hands were on your arms a second later.

“hey, hey, you’re okay.” he tried to sound calm but if was a bad attempt. he crouched down onto the ground, guiding you to sit in front of him. cautious hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, kaeya looking up at you. “can I look, love?”

“yeah, but I’m fine.” you said, though your face was twisted in pain.

his eyes were full of pity when he looked at you, jaw clenching before he lifted your shirt enough to see the wound. on first appearance, it looked worse than it really was.

“see?” you spoke again. “all good.”

he didn’t say anything at first. he just pulled you closer to him, chin hooked over your shoulder, though he was careful not to agitate your cut.

“not really. but it’s okay, we’re gonna get you all better, yeah?”

“kaeya, seriously, i’m fine. you don’t need-”

“y/n.” his voice was still sweet and concerned, but more stern when he spoke this time. “let me take care of you.”

“...fine.”

━━ xiao;

good luck getting him to spar with you in the first place

it doesn’t matter how much you tell him you want to, he’ll keep turning you down

needless to say, you’ll have to play your cards right to get him to agree to it

“what if i hurt you, y/n?”

“i’ll be under-trained and get hurt if you don’t help me.”

“you know i’ll always be there if you call for me.”

“and if you can’t come?”

“...”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” he stated simply, eyes narrowing at you. you only threw him a smile.

“what’s the worst that can happen? you won’t even use your real pole arm, you have a stick. you can’t stab me with it, xiao.”

“I would rather not think about ‘stabbing’ you in the first place.” he huffed. “but... you need to be safe, in case one day I can’t keep you safe myself.”

a smile crossed your face as you gripped your weapon, ready for him to start.

you may have miscalculated the power and ability of an adeptus though. you quickly found yourself tired and overwhelmed, just blocking and dodging was almost too much. he could sense your fatigue already, and he was listening for you to call him to stop. xiao was ready to stop on a dime, but he knew that you were stubborn and insistent.

his “pole arm” came close to your side, and he really thought you would dodge this one. you’d done it before. but he felt the wood hit you, you falling to the ground, holding your side soon after.

his make-shift weapon was long forgotten now. he was kneeling beside you in seconds, gentle fingers running along what he was sure was a broken rib. he didn’t find one, but the guilt was already eating him and that knowledge did nothing to stop it.

“ow! that hurts, don’t touch me.” you said, seething in pain and making a pitiful attempt to move away from him.

xiao did not cry.

he didn’t, it just wasn’t something he was accustomed to, and quite honestly he wasn’t sure if adepti could cry. but the idea of you being scared of him started tears to fill his eyes; his chest was tight, and he had this uncomfortable lump in his throat.

“no, no,” you started, propping yourself on your elbows and then sitting all the way up.

you tried to reach and hold his face, to wipe the tears off, but he turned away from you; he kept kneeling, but shifted to a position a little farther away from you. the adeptus made a noise something like a squeak, and it seemed to surprise him. he didn’t wait for you to finish talking, he turned away and looked anywhere except you.

“xiao, baby, that’s not what I meant. you can- I just meant don’t put your hands directly where I got hurt... xiao? can you look at me?”

it took him a few more moments before he turned his head back to you. you knew he wasn’t always the most emotional, but you didn’t think you’d seen him like this before. he hummed, not trusting his voice. still, he wouldn’t look you in the eyes.

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me. its just a little bruise, there’s not even blood... I’m not scared of you, xiao, it’s not your fault.”

he stared at you for another moment before he cleared his throat and stood up. “can we at least have someone make sure you’re okay?”

“yeah.”

“...and you won’t ask me to do that again?”

“of course not.”

━━ childe;

he has mixed feelings about sparring with you

of course, it’s an odd form of quality time, but he likes it

plus that means he won’t have to watch you spar with anyone else

but there’s always the risk that you could get hurt

he’s an archer though, so he only “attacks” you with his melee — he thought he was being a lot more careful

“ready?” childe smiled, twirling one of his weapons around his finger.

“as always.” you said, gripping your own weapon.

“mhm, sweetheart, I’m sure you’re ‘always ready’,” childe said dropped his hands to his sides and stepping closer to you.

you knew what he was trying to do — he attempted to pull this off every time you sparred with him, and you never failed to catch him. seem relaxed, and whenever you thought he wouldn’t, he’d attempt to get the better of you.

this time, however, you were not as quick as you usually were. childe knew that you always saw through this; not once had you’d failed to block him, so maybe he put his trust in his weapons more than he should have.

he stopped when both of you look at the clean, but bloody, cut he’d made. his eyes widened as it sinked in, coming to the realization that he’d hurt you

“y/n- shit, I’m sorry,” he said, panic clear in his voice, though he tried to hide it. his hand was on your shoulder, guiding you to sit on the ground. “are you- you’re okay, it’s not that deep. we’re gonna get that healed and you’ll be fine, yeah?”

for words so reassuring, his panicked tone was saying something along the lines of ‘shit shit fuck dammit, i accidentally hurt my own partner, what the fuck-’

“yeah, it’s no biggie,” you said, smiling a little at him. “it’s just a little cut, I get worse on commissions.”

you knew that later he would claim he was totally calm. in reality, he was trying his best to clean the wound with his vision, and he’d get better help whenever he could get to bubu pharmacy.

“you owe me kisses though, y’know,” you teased.

‘good,’ he thought. ‘they aren’t mad at me.’

“whatever ya want, love.”

“oh? maybe I’ll take cuddles too.”

#diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #childe x you #childe x y/n #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fic #genshin impact fanfic #diluc #kaeya #xiao #childe #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n #diluc comfort #kaeya comfort #xiao comfort #childe comfort #tartaglia comfort #genshin x you

[luveline]

a special friend, part two [Fred Weasley, George Weasley x reader]

tags: reader-insert, platonic relationships, friendship, can be read as romantic for either or both, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, implied/referenced self-harm, dissociation, quiet reader, shy reader, sad reader

relationships: fred weasley x reader, george weasley x reader

wordcount: 3.2k

read part one here

The common room was always so clean. The house-elves must work themselves half to death with effort, as you never saw a hair or speck of dust where there ought not to be one. The small refreshment table filled and refilled through every new day and the fireplace was always roaring on cold winter nights. It was especially cold that evening, and so the members of Gryffindor house benefited from a crackling fire and hot chocolate coming out of the ears.

You basked in the warmth of the flame, sitting cross-legged before it. A cup of hot chocolate cooled in between your hands, which were both laden with bandaids and germolene. Fred and George’s orders, of course. You were not to scratch, bite or mess in any detrimental way with your hands, arms or skin. If you did, you were to report to them for immediate bandaging.

At first, they’d simply been spelling each wound away. This had an opposite effect, as the freshly healed skin was perfect for picking whenever your mood turned - which was often. You found yourself blinded and basked in the light of being cared for by others, and although you may have preferred complete autonomy over your own body, you couldn’t say you minded the attentiveness of the twins. They’d made it their personal mission to prevent any self-harm, accidental or purposeful. You weren’t sure you even knew the difference half the time.

A quiet had settled over the room. It seemed as though each red and gold student was content to breathe in the smell of chestnut and pine in peaceful, companionable silence. You found yourself smiling kindly at each person who looked your way. You couldn’t imagine having done that before you had become acquainted with the twins.

Acquainted was a word you used to protect yourself. Friendly was too confident, too firm. You sometimes dreamt of horror stories where you, confident and comfortable, admitted how much you cared for them. In these dreams, they laughed in your face. Poked fun at your hope.

Of course, Fred and George weren’t cruel. If they felt that way, they certainly wouldn’t rub it in your face or make you feel embarrassed about it. But some shame never went away, and you carried it like an ever-burning torch.

Despite the pleasant warmth of the room, chills racked your spine at the thought. You pushed it from your head, attempting to think of anything else. You traced a pattern through the braided strands of the rug you were lazing upon, first the flames of a bonfire towering ten feet tall, then a mirror of the powdered sugar landscape outside.

Two warm bodies settled in the carpet on either side of you. A long arm wrapped around your shoulders confidently. The floral scent of your perfume mingled with the strong scent of burning caramel and something woody, the signature fragrance of the Weasley twins.

George moved first, plonking a stuffed toy into your lap. He positioned the neck carefully so that the teddy bear was sat as comfortable as you were.

“For you,” said Fred.

“An early Christmas gift,” George added.

The bear was spotted unusually like some sort of hybrid creature. You wondered where they could possibly have acquired such an artefact.

“We saw him and thought of you,” they said together.

That was rich. And maybe correct. After all, it was a weird looking plushie and you weren’t exactly renowned for your normality. You didn’t say much, simply handing off your cold drink to George without so much as a sideways glance and brought the bear to your face. You grazed your nose against its brown stomach and inhaled, breathing in its clean scent.

Both twins were used to the general quietness that came with your presence and didn’t pressure any response. You knew you should’ve said thank you, or even smiled gratefully, but you just couldn’t make your mouth move the way you wanted. You placed your hand on each brothers leg and applied the barest amount of pressure, hoping it showed gratitude.

“Well, I’m starving.”

“I’m so glad you said so, my brother.”

“Yes, I’m craving something savory, Gred.”

“Something juicy, Forge.”

“Such as?”

You looked between them like a muggle attending a tennis match, back and forth and back and forth. They ran circles around you for their own enjoyment, you assumed, but maybe also to make you feel more included.

“Y/N, fancy a trek to the kitchens?”

Before you could say no, or yes, or make up your mind and decide what it was you wanted to do, your stomach growled. Fred grinned wickedly.

They ushered you out of the portrait hole and down the stairs without preamble, flanking your sides like bodyguards. You didn’t mind, taking time to smile at the castle ghosts and portraits as you went.

The twins shot each other looks when they thought you couldn’t see. One said, how do you think she is? Another said, I think she’s however you think she is. Both said, she seems okay today.

It would feel a little patronizing if it weren’t so foreign - to have people care about your well-being so deeply they made changes to their day to see you and went out of their way to make you feel good; you’d find it condescending if it wasn’t so delightful.

That is to say, you felt conflicted. Happy that somebody cared, ashamed that they also felt concerned. They worried over everything these days, what you ate and what classes you had and oh, ghostie, do you need help with that? Y/N, sweetheart, let me carry that for you, lest your arms grow too tired.

It was… nice. It was nice, even if it was painful. Sometimes, it reminded you why you didn’t allow yourself the pleasure of friendship in the first place.

You hummed to yourself. Making sound had become a little easier. You weren’t inclined to say a whole lot, but allowing yourself to be louder, to take up space, had come easier the longer you spent with them. Neither Fred nor George minded if you huffed after too many stairs or if you clicked gobstones together at the foot of their beds.

The song was one of those cheesy Christmas numbers you’d heard on the radio. It was warm and comforting, bringing tears to your eyes if you thought about it too much. George slipped into song with you easily, humming much more loudly and obnoxiously. Fred just grinned to himself, keeping dutiful watch of the corridors.

You bubbled like a shaken can of coke by the time you arrived at the painting that enclosed the kitchen doorway, feeling too happy for your own good. Despite feeling very hungry, not a lick of fatigue or unhappiness tinged your mood, though the fuzzy numbness of every day threatened your well-being if you stopped to think too long.

The door swung open obediently after your half-hearted tickle insisted upon by the boys.

“What do you feel like, Y/N, sweet or savoury? There’s bound to be something you’ll fancy,” George said.

You held in a grimace. There were lots of things you wanted to try, the kitchens smelled like so many amazing things. The cloying smells of jam and treacle and custard, the hearty scents of gravy and roast dinner. It was too bad, then, that most everything you ate tasted stale. For years, your tastebuds had been slacking. During your worst days, food held no taste at all, resulting in your decreased appetite.

A tingling began in your fingers. You didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, how to convey that you didn’t really feel up to anything at all. You knew they would protest as they always did when you didn’t eat.

“Bread,” you managed. Bread was a safe choice. Dense enough to feel filling, easy to keep down, and bland to begin with.

Both boys were frowning but trying not to at your choice.

George moved forward, catching the attention of a harrowed looking house elf. They conversed with familiarity and soon you were being beckoned to a table that was relatively clear. Within minutes you were surrounded by bread, crusty rolls and sliced sourdough.

George casually nudged a bowl of tomato soup in your direction.

The surface shined with grease. It even had a swirl of cream and a sprig of basil afloat.

He looked at you, eyes pleading.

“You too,” you said.

This appeased him. The boys sat across from you with their own bowls, eating in the horrific way that teenage boys do. By the time they’d finished, you’d managed half of your own meal and two slices of bread. The nausea you experienced from just existing was starting to build, accompanied by the disappointment of your bland meal. You’d hoped an improved mood would help your appetite, but you still felt unsatisfied.

The boys grabbed a passing plate of tarts and ice cream.

Your good mood was wearing thin. You bit down on the tip of your thumb and stared at the grain of the table.

You bit down harder.

“Hey. Hey! Don’t do that,” Fred said, reaching forward as if to grab your hand. You pushed it under the table.

George pushed the plate of confectionary closer to you. “Chew on one of these instead, hm?”

You took it all back - this was patronising. Lovely and thoughtful and very, excruciatingly patronising.

You didn’t want to say no, or push it away, or eat anything else or even laugh it off. You wanted to do nothing. You lay your head down on the table, closing your eyes. You caught a murmur or two between them, though you couldn’t make out the words with your ear pressed so hard against the wood and the other covered by your falling hair. The table was smooth and cool under your skin.

A chair scraped against the floor. Footsteps. A broad hand against your back.

“You’re like a steam train running out of coal sometimes.”

You knew he was hoping for a response, a joke, a sign you’d been cheered up.

Through slow blinks, you could make out his face. Endlessly amused and a little sad, framed by the candlelight. He was beautiful, you thought absently. They were both beautiful.

“You okay?” he said quietly.

“Mm,”

“Mm? Is mm a yes or a no?”

“Mm,”

“Alright,” he said, rubbing a soothing path up between your shoulder blades and down again. It would’ve been dizzying if you could think straight, it made the numbness a little woozy. You preened beneath his touch like a pleased cat, feeling the unhappiness melt just a little.

It was crazy how affection could make you feel better, even if it didn’t always solve the problem.

Embarrassed, you mumbled, “you’re going to kill me.”

Fred smiled. “How so?”

“You’re fattening me up like a lamb to slaughter.”

He didn’t quite laugh, huffing through his nose. He really was very handsome up close. His hair was curling at just below his ears, a lush auburn colour that complemented his pale, freckle adorned skin. His eyes were a heart-melting brown so that his pupils were lost. The look he gave you was searing like he knew exactly what you were thinking about him. Your ears were tinged with heat, cheeks filling with colour.

He retracted his hand.

“Wrap some of those up, Georgie. Ghostie needs her bed.”

“It shall be done, brother mine!”

You smiled despite yourself.

-

For your birthday, the twins had gifted you a simple necklace. The chain was silver, reaching to just below your collar bone. It had no charm or jewel. It was perfect.

It helped you sometimes when you felt out of it to run it between two fingers or tug it gently from left to right, feeling the chain links rolling behind your neck.

You’d tried that, among every other coping mechanism drilled into your head by George and Fred over the past few weeks. You drew circles were you wanted to scratch, put plasters over fingertips you wanted to pick at. You took big breaths and did the stretches George insisted on. You even tried getting a full night’s sleep - nothing worked.

It filled you with guilt. You felt as though you were letting them both down by struggling.

You stared out the window of the dormitory at the sky, moonlight spilling onto your skin and staining your clothes a gauzy silver. You’d read once that sometimes when the planets were in rotation, you could see them as though they were as close as the moon.

This didn’t seem right to you. How could Mars seem so close? It was an optical illusion. The planets revolved around the sun, but humans had once thought they revolved around Earth instead.

It must’ve been a very strange experience to realise you weren’t as important as you thought. The Earth was just the Earth, spinning and wobbling its path through space.

You shook your head, feeling lost. It was ridiculous to project your feelings on the solar system. But still, you couldn’t help but feel like, despite its inhabitants and its systems, the Earth was so lonely.

Your necklace began to grow cold until it was almost like ice against your skin. One of the twins, or maybe both, had charmed it to change temperature. Cold usually meant, ‘Ghostie, you awake?’

You cringed against the sensation. Why couldn’t they booty call you like normal young men, throwing stones at your window with a boom box? Or, for merlin’s sake, an owl?

You grumbled to yourself, throwing the fleece blanket from your body. You were hardly dressed for company in knickers and a tank top, so you threw on a grey zip-up jacket and a pair of pyjama shorts that were hardly any better than the knickers. Luckily the jacket hung past the shorts. You wanted to care that you were dressed scantily, really, but the boys wouldn’t care and you didn’t have it in you to find something else.

You trekked down the stairs, your trainer socks slippery against the well-worn wood. Fred stretched languidly in front of the fireplace, a pack of exploding snap cards and a mountain of chocolate frogs beside him whilst George was sitting much more straight-backed on the sofa.

“I’m cold,” you said, announcing your arrival. The redheads turned to look at you over their shoulders. Fred rolled his eyes at you and flicked his wand. The necklace slowly heated until it was pleasantly warm against your collarbones.

You clambered over the back of the sofa with little grace, folding your knees underneath you and leaning heavily against George’s arm. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“If I were a lesser man, I’d ask where your bottoms were, Y/L/N,” said Fred, shuffling the cards dexterously.

You raised your jacket wordlessly, exposing your bottoms.

“Wouldn’t you know, they were there the whole time.”

“You assumed the same as me, George.”

George didn’t reply, though his expression said he was similarly embarrassed.

“And do you always let girls you presume to be half-naked climb all over you?” you asked.

“So talkative,” George chastened.

“Don’t change the subject! I’m interested in the answer,” said Fred.

“Oh shove off! You insufferable tyrants.”

Ah, so he knows how it feels now, you thought. You looked up into his face, the line of his jaw.

You looked down at your legs, feeling fatigued. Smooth stretches of skin and fine hair interrupted only by thin white lines. The low light made them almost impossible to see. They shined like silver when you moved, caught by the light of a nearby candle. They felt a lifetime away now when a young you had used pins and quills and little carving knives to punish yourself for bad behaviour.

You traced a slightly thicker one with a pointed fingernail. You pushed it nastily into the scar, but it didn’t hurt.

You sighed.

Fred and George were half arguing about something you didn’t catch, Fred through a mouthful of chocolate.

It was hard, always being miserable. People often criticized the moody for ruining the mood, but it wasn’t as if you could choose how to be. You wanted to wake each day and be happy and entertaining and absurdly good-natured, like the twins. It was an abject cruelty, then, that every day you woke up and felt the immeasurable dread of continuing on another day. Not even magic could help you with that.

You rejected Fred’s offer to play, happy to sit and watch the boys play. You let yourself slide into the space George had vacated, curling into a tight ball. Your stomach hurt.

Godric, there was always something fucking wrong with you.

You were frustrated. The boys could tell. Their game of snap was stretched thin, and you knew it was your fault. You wrinkled your nose at the smell of singed hair, restless. You squirmed against the warm leather under your skin, feeling sticky and out of sorts.

You closed your eyes against the aching and slept.

You woke up crying.

Fred shifted in his sleep. He was leaning against your legs, his hair and face smushed into the leather beneath you. George was facedown in the carpet. You pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle any sound.

The clock on the wall read 4 minutes past 4 o’clock in the morning. You’d only managed an hour and a half of sleep.

You couldn’t remember what you’d been dreaming. Maybe somewhere familiar. Faces you recognized. It didn’t matter, only the feeling of being crushed by the air. You reached out without thinking, grabbing Fred’s shoulder.

He roused gracelessly, blinking through squinted eyes at you. A hard sob rocked you to the core, the feeling of breathlessness sinking deep into your chest.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

You couldn’t answer. You grasped for his arm, begging him to do something, to save you. You felt as though you were going to run out of air.

“Hey, you’re alright. You’re okay. Let’s breathe, should we? Breathe with me.” He grabbed the hand you’d pushed over your mouth and brought it to his chest. You could feel him take a huge inhale and you tried your best to replicate it.

“Good! That’s good. You’re doing so well.” Another big breath, a long exhale.

“You feel that? The leather under you.” He grabbed your free hand and put it on the seat. “Feels weird, huh? Dimples and wrinkles.” He dragged your hand over the texture repeatedly.

A big breath.

Eventually, your breathing returned. The crying stayed.

“Don’t cry, ghost.”

You frowned. It was odd to be looking down at Fred instead of up. He pressed your hand tighter to his chest.

“Bad dream?”

“Don’t remember,” you whispered.

“It was just a dream. You’re okay. I promise.”

George snored. Fred rolled his eyes. You laughed through the tears, blinking the last of them away.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll be here.”

You knew he was telling the truth.

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