#so is it just like cramps cause i’m being more physical than usual

[kornflake82]

i was sent this ask:

"Hello, you! can there be a headcannon where, (Scout, Sniper, demo, and my favorite Texan, engi) hugging S/o and the merc is like: “Oh no I’m in love with them” as their face is all red? And, S/o is sorta worried about them and asking “you good?” this scenario has been itching my brain for a few days lol

Anon jilly🦭🌺"

and i believe you may have forgotten to turn anon on when submitting the ask, so i still saw your url. out of respect for your anonymity, i will answer here instead of from the inbox, so hopefully it still finds you well! also i hope you don't mind i do a mini scenario for these as opposed to HCs, just to give yall a little more content :3

Mercs Getting a Big Ole Hug

Scout

-You two always had a strong bond, and a dynamic like childhood friends. It was always fun and games with Scout, and when the time came, he knew how to comfort you and be there for you albeit in his own clumsy and Scout-y way.

-It wasn't until he noticed the way the other Mercs looked at you did he start to see you as more than just a friend--he now became acutely aware of how soft your skin felt when it brushed up against his, the way your hair perfectly framed your face, every small detail about you, and he couldn't believe he never noticed any of this before.

-It was your day off, and as usual, you spent it with Scout. The two of you tired yourselves out playing catch outside, as well as other fun roughhousing typical of your other pastimes. While running for the ball, you tripped and fell forward, but Scout was quick enough to catch you, and held you in a tight embrace. You instinctively wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head in his chest. He maintains his grip on you, but his face is as red as his uniform--all of a sudden the outside air feels cramped and he's getting clammy. It was like getting hit with his own Atomizer: all the times he's admired every little thing about you coming together all at once to beat him over the head with the realization that he was in love with you.

-You finally let him go, looking up at him and yelping a bit in surprise. "Scout?! What happened to you? Should we go see Medic?!" You ask frantically, concern showing on your scrunched features as you took in Scout's seemingly-ill state. "N-Nah, I'm okay, really! More than that, actually...I feel amazin'." He gazed at you with a softness you hadn't yet seen before, but it sparked a warmth in your heart and your tummy that you didn't oppose.

Sniper

-Sniper wasn't exactly one for PDA, let alone physical touch. Just didn't tickle his fancy. But you, something about you gave Sniper the desire, for the first time in ages, to hold, touch, and generally be around someone of his own volition. But for some reason, he just couldn't find it in himself to act on those desires. Whether it be his own deeply-instilled professionalism or cowardice, he couldn't tell. Whatever it was, all he knew was him being afraid of scaring you off. So he did nothing. The minimal interactions with you now would suffice, and his imagination could do the rest.

-You weren't exactly having the best day. Just yesterday, you scuffed a one-on-one encounter with an enemy merc that cost your team the mission, and today's target practice was not kind to you either. You found yourself alone on the range, tears of frustration pooling in your [color] eyes as you trudged along to set up the target dummy Sniper once again. Overwhelmed by frustration, you found yourself hugging the Sniper dummy for even the slightest sense of comfort, dropping your rifle to the dust below with a thud. The real Sniper, who had volunteered to check on you, heard the sound of your rifle hitting the ground as he left the base. The impact immediately spiked his adrenaline and caused the worst thoughts to run through his mind. He quickened his pace, almost falling over in place once he beheld the scene. Sniper couldn't help but feel a tug on his heartstrings watching you embrace the dummy of him. A warm flush crept its way to his rugged features as he realized the depth of his feelings for you way-exceeded his expectations.

-It's now or never, he thought to himself, finally finding the courage to approach you. He put a large gloved hand on your shoulder, eliciting a fearful shriek from you. Your face reddened with embarrassment, stammering as you tried to come up with a good excuse for your behavior. Wordlessly, Sniper wrapped you up in a tight embrace which immediately soothed your worries. "Shhh. It's alright, roo. Don't cry, now." He spoke just above a whisper, and despite being there to comfort you, he himself was trembling with anxiety at what he's just done. When you finally gathered yourself and parted from the Aussie's embrace, your eyes widened. "Sniper! What's gotten into you?!" He looked down at you with a slight smile, as if it would conceal the way his heart pounded in his chest.

"You have, sheila."

Demoman

-He wasn't always drunk! Okay, maybe he was, but that didn't mean he was always unaware. He was especially aware of a certain little merc who always took him to bed, always got him water, and always made sure to wish him a goodnight, even when the rest left him to drink himself to oblivion. He thought of you very fondly, like a close friend more than just a colleague. You were the first of the bunch to ever show a genuine compassion for him and actually attempt to care for him even in his drunken state (and he knew that was no easy feat).

-It was another night like always, the rest of the team off taking care of their own business while Demo had some precious one-on-one time with his scrumpy, this time accompanied by you! And you were actually drinking with him! It was the weekend, after all, and you decided what the hell, why not, and let your hair down a little. While not nearly as intoxicated as your Scottish companion, you definitely felt the buzzy warmth of drunkenness sneaking up on you. You felt more bubbly, confident, and silly. You gazed upon Demo fondly as he slurred through stories of missions, both failures and successes.

-Right as he was getting to the story's climax, he raised his arms above his head for dramatic affect, and you impulsively leapt into them. "Awwe Tavichhh, I wuv when you tell stowiesss" you mumbled into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as if he'd leave you any second. The sudden show of affection almost sobered Demo up a bit, but he quickly dropped his arms and returned your embrace. In his drunken state, the warmth of your body against his felt like fire, and he couldn't help but notice the way you fit perfectly into him. Demo soon grabbed your shoulders, moving you back to meet his gaze. The sudden serious look on his face sent a shiver down your spine. "D-demo! What's the matter?!" He took in your flushed face as if he were looking upon the Mona Lisa herself before finally speaking, "Oh it's nothin, lass. I just enjoy lookin' at ye."

Engineer

-You were lucky enough to get some time off when you were informed this go-round of contracts did not include you. To your surprise, they didn't include Engie, either. You discovered this when you bolted for the workshop in a panic as you realized your prized headphones were destroyed! You were about to go on a walk before fishing them from your backpack and soon met with the disappointment of your prized possession in tatters--wires frayed, and hanging down almost mockingly.

-As you busted through the double doors of Engineer's workshop, he jumped in surprise, nearly dropping his wrench. "Well howdy to yourself too, darlin'!" He regained his bearings and approached you with a chuckle. "What's got you in such a tizzy, hm?" You simply raised the broken pair of headphones up*, looking at him like a lost puppy. "M-my headphones are destroyeeeddd!" You whined. Engie, behind his goggles, looked at you with a twinge of pain in his eyes just from hearing how distraught you were. Though he was empathetic to your "loss", he couldn't help but admire how adorable you sounded when you whimpered, and got a bit of an ego-boost from how you immediately came to him for aid. Engie took the headphones from you, inspecting them closely as he set them down on a nearby workbench. "Y'know, dear, these might not be a lost cause...let's see what some good ole fashioned Texan ingenuity can do!" He assured you with a sly smile.

-You fidgeted nervously as you watched over his shoulder while he tinkered away on your poor headphones. "Can I get you somethin' to drink darlin'? Maybe some water?" Engineer didn't take his eyes off the headphones as he spoke, currently re-twisting and wrapping wires before getting to work on the broken frame of the device. "I'm okay, thank you, Engie..." Truthfully, you were just too nervous to take your eyes off of the headphones while Engineer repaired them. Of course, you trusted his skillful hand, but with them being such a meaningful item to you, you couldn't help but hover over his shoulder and watch. Suddenly, Engie spoke up again, this time with a command-- "Close your eyes, dear." Nervously, you did as you were told. Engineer turned to face you, gently placing the repaired headphones on your head. Your eyes shot open and hands immediately went up to feel the newly repaired device now muffling your hearing.

-Without a second thought, you pulled Engie into a tight embrace. "Engie, you're the best!! Thank you so much!" You exclaimed, nuzzling his chest a bit as the two of you embraced. His large gloved hand gently caressed your back, giving it a slight pat in response to your praise. While Engineer typically maintained a relaxed exterior, internally, he was practically melting. A proper southern gentleman such as himself couldn't be indecent in the presence of a lady, but the fog on his goggles and pink in his cheeks said otherwise. You pulled away, removing the headphones. You went to inspect them further, but the sight before you stopped you dead in your tracks. "Engie?! You feeling alright??" He looked like he was about to pass out--and he felt like it, too.

-Engineer simply nodded, placing his ivory-colored cowboy hat on your head in response.

*this is exactly what i envisioned for this scene btw

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 x reader #scenarios #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #dell conagher #mick mundy #tavish degroot #anon #requests

[goldenempyrean]

I am Supergirl

〚 Notes- Okay so this was just a small lil idea I had, not much else to say really :P I wrote this before the poll so anyone who voted Kara enjoy :D 〛

〚 Pairing - Kara Danvers x Reader (+ Platonic Lena) 〛

〚 Summary - After solar flaring, Kara catches the flu but in true fashion goes to work feverish and delirious - much to the disbelief of her boss.〛

〚 Wordcount- 1745 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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It was a brisk morning in National City, and the aftermath of the previous day's epic battle were still evident. Kara had fought tirelessly against a formidable alien threat, leading to an intense solar flare. She had been drained completely of her Kyrptonian abilities.  

Ignoring her pounding headache and the chills that racked her body, Kara dragged herself out of bed and donned herself in a thick jumper and pants. She hoped that the outfit would help warm her up a little, but as she looked in the mirror, she couldn't help but notice the paleness of her usually vibrant face. 

Taking the bus was the worse decision she could’ve made. It was awful. Everything seemed to swirl and spin around her. Not only that the clammy atmosphere and cramped seats made her feel as if she was being boiled – wearing this jumper was definitely not a good idea. 

As the bus finally arrived at CatCo Worldwide Media, Kara stumbled off, feeling more disoriented than ever. She clutched her bag tightly and forced a weak smile as she entered the building. The fluorescent lights seemed extra bright, and the noise of the bustling office felt like an assault on her senses. She desperately tried to push through the fatigue and make her way to Lena’s office to get her morning debriefing. 

Kara sneezed; the sound amplified by the quiet surroundings as everyone turned to look. Her weakened muscles couldn't keep her fully balanced, and she swayed dangerously. Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself against the nearest wall, but her fingers only grazed the surface before she lost her balance completely. 

“Kara? Kara!” Lena yelled seeing the blonde physically stumble into a reporter's desk, rubbing at her nose with her sleeve and mumbling something under breath. 

“Kara, what on earth are you doing?” The Luthor asked, she reached out to pull her into her office but as Lena’s hand met Kara’s skin her eyes widened in concern at the blazing heat radiating from her. 

“Mmmh ‘ere to work.” She slurred, “‘s got a job to do.” 

Lena practically carried Kara into her office where she sat her down on the sofa, placing her hand gently on her forehead, “Shit Kara, you’re really burning up. Why on earth would you come in with a fever like this, never mind better question, how did you get here like this?”  

Her mind was racing with the million dangerous things that could’ve happened to her. Kara was the first ever real friend she’d had and something like this filled her with worry. 

“Mmh’ took ‘s bus”. Kara mumbled before breaking off into a chesty sounding cough, curling further in on herself. 

Lena was kneeling down at her side with some water in an instant, “Honey you need to drink this,” she instructed, holding the glass to her lips as she supported the back of the blonde’s head, helping her drink, “I’m gonna call Y/N, alright? They’ll come pick you up. In the meantime, you’re going to sleep. I’ve never seen you like this.” 

Kara shivered, chills running down her exposed arms, “I am?” 

“Yes. You are, stay here and I’ll go get you a blanket from storage.” Lena sighed before hurriedly going off towards storage. 

Despite Lena's best efforts to convince Kara to rest and take care of herself, the stubborn Kryptonian journalist was having none of it. As soon as Lena left to get a blanket, Kara attempted to get up from the sofa, but her weakened state caused her to stumble - it was by some sheer stroke of luck that she managed to stay upright. 

“Excuse me?” A sudden stern voice stopped her in her tracks, “Kara what the hell are you doing up?” Lena sighed, leading the mumbling girl back to the sofa, instructing her to lay down before draping a soft grey blanket over her. 

Kara's eyes drifted closed as exhaustion weighed heavily on her. "But I hav’ responsibilities..." 

"You're no good to anyone if you push yourself to the point of collapse," Lena insisted firmly. "Trust me, the world can wait. Right now, you need to prioritise your health." 

Kara groaned weakly, her eyes half-lidded as she mumbled, "Can't rest... people... need Supergirl." 

Lena furrowed her brows in concern, just how delirious was this girl, "Supergirl can handle things. Right now, you need to focus on getting better. You can trust her to take care of the city." 

"Nooo... I am Supergirl," Kara murmured, her voice barely audible as she coughed again. 

Lena's eyes widened, and she leaned in closer, thinking she must have misheard. "What did you say?" 

"I'm Supergirl," Kara repeated, her words clearer this time, though her eyes were still unfocused, “Its’s me.” 

Lena couldn't help but let out a small, disbelieving laugh. "Kara, you're just delirious from the fever honey. It's okay. I know you're dedicated to your job, but you don't have to pretend to be Supergirl right now." 

Kara's brow furrowed, and she weakly protested, "No, I mean it. I'm Supergirl... I've always been Supergirl. I can fly like woosh.” She made the motion with her hand which apparently was a bad idea and she groaned in response. 

Lena sighed, deciding to play along with Kara's delusion to keep her calm. "Alright, alright. Of course, you’re Supergirl. Now, close your eyes and get some rest, okay?” Boy, was she going to tease her about this once she was feeling better. 

As Kara drifted in and out of consciousness, Lena kept a watchful eye on her, making sure she stayed as comfortable as possible. She grabbed her phone and dialled a number she knew by heart, putting the phone on speaker so she could tend to Kara while waiting for the call to connect. 

After a few rings, a familiar voice answered, "Hey, Lena, what's up?" 

"Y/N, it's Kara. She's really sick," Lena replied, concern evident in her voice. 

"Oh no, is she okay?" You asked, immediately picking up on Lena's worried tone. You didn’t hear it often so when you didn’t you knew it was serious. 

"She’s got a pretty high fever, and she's delirious, probably the flu I think. Can you come to CatCo and take her home? I'm really worried about her," Lena explained, glancing at Kara, who was still half-conscious on the sofa. 

"Of course, I'll be right there," You replied reassuringly, as you searched your pockets for your car keys, "Tell her I'm on my way." 

You rushed to CatCo , worrying about Kara's condition. When you arrived, you found Lena sitting next to Kara, who was wrapped in a blanket and looking awfully pale. Lena looked relieved to see you and quickly filled you in on what had happened there. 

"She's been insisting she's Supergirl," Lena whispered to you, a hint of amusement in her voice, "I think it's just the fever talking, but she's really out of it." 

You gave Kara a gentle smile and stroked her hair as you tried to hide the flicker of worry. Kara never told anyone about Supergirl, you’d been there countless times when hiding the truth became too much so to hear she’d finally said it in her feverish delirium, well that worried you a little. At least Lena didn’t seem to buy it. "Hey, Supergirl, I'm here to take you home. Let's get you out of here and into bed, okay?" 

Kara weakly smiled back at you, her eyes still unfocused, "Y/N?” 

"It’s me sweetheart," you replied, trying to keep your voice light to put her at ease. "You should’ve told me this morning you were sick; you should’ve stayed home love.” 

You carefully helped Kara stand up, supporting her with your arm around her waist as she swayed slightly. Lena followed closely; concern etched on her face. With your help, you managed to get Kara outside and into your car, laying her down in the backseat. 

As you drove back to her apartment, Kara drifted in and out of consciousness, occasionally muttering something about saving people and protecting the city. You kept as close as an eye possible on her in the rearview mirror, making sure she was okay as you quickly got her home. 

As soon as you reached Kara's apartment, you carefully carried her inside, laying her down on her bed. Lena followed behind, offering her assistance. Together, you made sure Kara was comfortable and tucked her in under the covers. The apartment was cooler than CatCo, which was a relief to the very clammy Kara. 

Her fevered mind seemed to latch onto your comforting presence as she reached out to grab your hand before you could leave, “Stay?” 

"Of course, I will baby." you replied, feeling a mix of worry and tenderness for the woman lying in front of you. You had seen her as Supergirl, strong and confident, but seeing her vulnerable like this was a reminder that in some ways she was just as human as you were. You climbed onto the bed and settled down beside her, making sure to keep a safe distance so she wouldn't feel overheated. "Just rest, and I'll be here if you need anything." 

Kara shifted slightly closer to you, seeking your warmth and comfort. She curled up against your side, resting her head on your shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, "You always take care of me." 

"You're welcome, Kara," you replied softly, gently rubbing her back to soothe her. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what." 

As Kara nuzzled against you, seeking solace in your presence, she let out a small, involuntary sneeze. The sound was muffled by your chest, and you could feel her body shivering with chills. You pulled the covers up to her shoulders, ensuring she was snug and warm. 

"Sorry," Kara sniffled, sounding apologetic, "I can't seem to stop sneezing." 

"It's okay, don't worry about it," you reassured her, running your fingers through her hair. "Just focus on resting and getting better. I'll take care of you." 

Kara's eyes fluttered closed, and she let out a tired sigh. "You're the best," she whispered, her words slurring slightly from exhaustion. 

“You’re the best too but maybe we can work on staying home when we’re sick and not spilling your secret to everyone?” You teased whilst rubbing her back sweetly. 

Kara managed a weak chuckle, her eyes still closed. "Yeah, maybe I should work on that." she mumbled, her voice growing fainter as she drifted closer to sleep. 

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[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (bonus track)

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

rating: PG

genre/warnings: flashback fluff, angst, college au for the most part, exes au, this is very period cramps centric i'm sorry 😭, physical pain?, crying, hints of an estranged familial relationship, kinda edited but not really?? it isss what it isss

word count: 1.9k

note: this happened to me yesterday 💀 and while i was squirming in agony i thought damn this seems like an obs thing and so i... made it an obs thing :D

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

The first time that it happened in Jungkook’s presence, he swore he was seconds away from going into cardiac arrest.

When he saw you nearly kick your laptop off the bed to yank the covers over your head and curl up into a fetal position, he didn’t think much of it. You had a tendency to do that whenever you were stuck on an assignment—just giving in to your frustrations and stewing in them for a while before you could get your head straight.

But when Jungkook heard you whimper under the sheets, he instantly grew alarmed.

“Baby?” he called, placing a hand on your shoulder and feeling your entire body shake. He pulled the covers down just enough to see your face, and the sight had him crouching over your quivering form, concern evident in the furrow of his brows and the downward tug of his lips.

You were already breaking out in a sweat and your face was contorted in pain; it just made him more confused as to what was causing you so much distress. You clutched your stomach and kept burying your face in the pillows as your body agonizingly twitched. Jungkook didn’t know if you hadn’t heard him, or if you had no strength to respond.

“Hey,” he called again, urgency in his voice as he watched you struggle with a malicious unseen force. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

As expected, you didn’t answer him. Talking was too much, and you just kept on whimpering. He didn’t even realize that you were crying until you angled your head away from the pillows for a second to breathe.

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and pulled out his phone. “Fuck, I’m calling an ambulance.”

It was at this that you responded in actual words—more or less—than just moans of discomfort.

“No,” you rasped out, and weakly reached for his wrist. “Period… just cramps…”

Sure, it was cramps, but it wasn’t the monthly scheduled mild cramps that you were accustomed to. No, you had named this peculiar onslaught of menstrual pain The Great Cramps—in that it happened just once a year and usually toward the end of the year.

The Great Cramps only started after you were in high school, and you supposed that the stress of school was the genesis of your troubles. It was a horrendous experience and you could never prepare yourself for it.

Although, you couldn’t imagine what it looked like to Jungkook. You felt like you were dying, and it must have seemed like you were well on your way to the pearly gates too.

Your boyfriend kept quietly cursing under his breath and rubbing your back in an attempt to relieve a pain that he would never truly understand. It was times like these that made you hate being a woman, and it was times like these that made you miss your mother so much.

“What can I do? Can I get you some water? Painkillers?” Jungkook tentatively asked.

You weakly nodded without opening your eyes, still twisting in on yourself from the stabbing torment in your belly that was simultaneously assaulting your lower back as well. He didn’t know what you were agreeing to, so he just assumed it was both.

He left your side to search for the meds in your bathroom but he was back in a matter of minutes. Minutes that felt like they were dragging on for hours with the chaos that was wrecking your body.

Jungkook guided you to sit up, and he winced at every pained moan that left your lips, like this was hurting him too. Your face was wet with hot tears that were still rolling down your cheeks and some of your hair was sticking to your forehead from the sweat. You felt disgusting, inside and out.

He helped you take the pills—already broken in half because he knew you had a hard time swallowing the meds in their original size—and eased you back down on the mattress, all the while trying his best to ease your discomfort with soothing words that you really couldn’t care less about in that moment.

When you felt something deliciously hot press into your stomach, you looked down to see your trusty heating bottle with its plush flamingo cover. You took it from Jungkook with a small Thank you, damp eyes preparing themselves for another wave of salty tears.

Ever since you moved away for college, you never had anyone take care of you like this. Granted, this wasn’t something that happened often, but even in those instances, you were alone, and you always had to endure the searing pain that prevented you from getting the painkillers you needed.

You would just lie there in bed, silently weeping and wishing you had someone there for you. It was a mystifying kind of loneliness, to feel like you were on death’s door and no one cared, and no one would even understand.

Jungkook positioned his body right behind yours to hug you closer. He had his phone on the nightstand next to your bed, ready to call his mother or the emergency line if your pain didn’t subside. He even considered calling Jimin for advice, not that the older man would even know anything about menstrual troubles but he probably had a sneaky link who did.

You laid there in his arms for a while, waiting for the Panadol to take effect. You probably shouldn’t have taken it on an empty stomach, but you were also grateful that Jungkook was too freaked out to read the instructions. If he did, he would’ve Usain Bolt-ed to the nearest diner to get you something to eat, and you certainly didn’t have the strength to do anything other than wail.

When the havoc in your stomach and back dropped from a Level 10—bright red, “Unable to Move” and “Worst Possible Pain”—to a Level 5—yellow bordering on orange, more moderate and still distressing but manageable—you turned to face Jungkook.

“Are you okay?” he immediately asked. “Is it better? Is it worse? Should I call an ambulance? I’ll call an ambulanc–”

“I’m fine,” you said, or more like croaked out. “It hurts less than before. I’m fine.”

“Oh. Okay,” he sighed, visibly more relieved at your reassurance though he was still confused. “Then what’s wrong? Why are you still crying?”

Because it was so nice.

(Not The Great Cramps, of course not. You would give up on drinking chai tea for the rest of your life if it meant you never had to go through The Great Cramps ever again.)

The warmth from the heating bottle was nice, and having your boyfriend’s arms snugly wrapped around you was nice. You were slowly regaining access to other feelings now that the pain was going away.

Having Jungkook and letting him take care of you was nice. You loved it, and maybe you loved him too.

“Thank you,” you said with a sniffle, trying your best to muster an appreciative smile for him. “Thank you for taking care of me. You didn’t have to do that.”

His features softened. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m always here for you, okay? I–” Jungkook stopped himself. You could both feel what was potentially unfolding, and you wanted to say it as much as he seemingly did. But maybe it wasn’t the best moment to utter those three words when you were high on painkillers and just coming down from the worst kind of rollercoaster ride.

Jungkook kissed your forehead and sighed. “You’re my girlfriend.”

You smiled as the feeling in your chest began to grow warmer than the one pressed into your stomach. Yeah, maybe you did love him. “You’re my boyfriend.”

And those three words were more than enough for now.

Jungkook held you tighter, and you reckoned that if he pressed your bodies closer together, the cap might pop off the heating bottle and burn you both with scalding hot water. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the tables seemed to have turned, like he was now the one that needed comforting.

“I was so scared. I hated seeing you in pain. I hated it so much. Please don’t do that ever again.”

Sure, loverboy. Not like it was something you purposefully chose to do. But you hummed anyway as you played with his soft hair. Something else erupted in your stomach instead.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

You had gotten used to Jungkook being there to help you through the pain over the past few years. He even downloaded a period tracker app to notify him when you were getting close to shark week.

Every month, regardless of whether it was nearing the time of The Great Cramps or not, you always had your personal care package, curated with love by Jungkook so you could be as comfortable as possible. He made sure to stay by your side whenever he didn’t have classes, out of fear that you might just collapse on the street and be left there to die.

The chances of that happening were slim, but he insisted on the two of you being joined at the hip.

You loved being doted on and babied by Jungkook. You loved being loved by him.

Here you are, bunking with the monthly red demon and the annual ultra cramps. The problem is, The Great Cramps came early this year—August instead of November/December. And it’s your first year without Jungkook too.

It always takes you by surprise, whacking you in the face without any warning. You were in the middle of preparing dinner when the bitch struck, and your legs almost gave out from the sudden pain that ripped through your belly.

A couple of onions fell helplessly to the floor as you abandoned your kitchen counter to rush to your bedroom, plopping onto the mattress and instantly clutching your stomach.

As if the wound in your heart wasn’t still fresh and bleeding; the universe had to dump this on you too. When it rains, it pours.

If you called Taehyung, there was no doubt that he would be here in a heartbeat, going into full Mama Bear mode. But your phone is out there in the kitchen, the painkillers are stashed in your medicine cabinet, and the heating bottle is in a drawer somewhere. You’re paralyzed; all you can do is cry, and wait for this agony to pass.

You miss your mother so much. You and her have always clashed on many things. When you were younger, you were a rebellious teen. Not in the sense that you were out partying all the time and hanging out with bad people. You just wanted to break free of the life trajectory that she envisioned for you, regardless of whether it made you happy or not.

She doesn’t agree with what you chose to study, and she certainly disapproves of what you do for a living. It isn’t enough. You’ve never been enough for your mother.

God knows she didn’t support your relationship with Jungkook, and her disdain for it grew even more after she found out what happened to his family.

But you miss her. Even if you don’t get along, she was still your mother. Whenever you got sick, she would stroke your hair and make sure your pillows were comfortable. Even if the air between the two of you was tense most of the time, homemade soup prepared by your mother always tasted better.

You miss Jungkook too. So terribly much.

Guess that’s just one more person to miss this time of year.

And just like that, the peculiar loneliness returns.

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted august 28, 2022]

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #ficscafe #btswritingcafe #btscarnivalnet #btshoneyhive #bangtaninn #clubzerooclock #52hertz #fic: our beloved summer

[emeraldbabygirl]

Genre: fluff :)

Warnings/ kinks: kinda sad maybe idk, sweet boyfriend Juhan cause he’s just so pretty and I fell over <3 also slight mention of sexual connotations?

Length: short?? Haha jk it was longer than I wanted oh well!

A/N: I’m not as sad as I was when I wanted to write this fic so it might not be as bad idk lol we’ll see. A late night/ early morning drive through the empty streets to an unexpected place just to make you feel better ✨

Also tagging @witchy-weve-monbebe cause I want you to see it 👉👈

You laid in Juhan’s bed staring at nothing in the dark. Juhan had invited you over to his apartment to spend the evening with him and something woke you up and now you couldn’t relax enough to fall back asleep. Something was on your mind but when you tried to sort through your thoughts you couldn’t figure out what was wrong. The more you thought about your thoughts; any and all, the more sad you got.

Juhan wasn’t necessarily a light or heavy sleeper, it depended on the night. Sometimes you could barely move and he would stir and other times you probably could’ve jumped on his bed and he’d be stiff as a rock. You never knew what to expect, like tonight when you thought he was out cold. Maybe it was the constant deep sighs that woke him up or maybe it was a feeling that something was wrong. You held your breath as he stirred, hearing the bedsheets rustle, feeling the weight of his body redistribute on the mattress.

“Y/n are you awake?” Juhan asked a little bit above a whisper. You said nothing hoping he would ignore you and go back to sleep. Unfortunately your boyfriend was too sweet and caring to obey your silent wishes. With a small click the lamp on his bedside table turned on and he shifted on the bed so he could sit up.

“Baby what’s the matter? Did you have a nightmare?” He asked. Again you said nothing. You didn’t feel like talking for some reason, usually you talked to your boyfriend about your problems and even if you were very moody you at least tried to communicate when you were feeling down or irritated. This was not one of those times you guessed. You felt like sulking in a corner for hours, you wanted to be left alone to deal with your own emotions until they passed. But again, your kind and understanding boyfriend ignored your unspoken requests.

Helping you sit up in bed Juhan moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. His warm hand cupped the side of your face so he could see your eyes but you just looked away. His thumb rubbed your cheek, gentle strokes in hopes he could coex an answer, even one word out of you.

Juhan kept quiet as he tried all the ways to comfort you. He stroked your hair, he rubbed your arms, left gentle kisses on your cheeks and forehead, even held your hands rubbing the back of them with his thumbs. You two sat for what felt like hours the only sounds being the clock on his nightstand and the far and few cars that past your street.

You let out another sigh this one shaky as tears formed along your waterline. You didn’t know what you were feeling but you just didn’t feel good. You looked up at Juhan finally the soft glow of the light let you sort of see his face and his look of concern. “Baby~” He cooed grabbing you gently. “Come here, where does it hurt?” He asked pulling you on his lap. You straddled him burying your face in the crook of his neck feeling his warm skin against your face. You quietly cried into him snaking one arm around his lower waist your other arm resting against his unzipped jacket grabbing a fistful of the soft cotton material to hold.

“Does your stomach hurt? Are you getting sick, do you have a headache?” Juhan wrapped both arms around you rubbing your back gently. When you shook your head slightly he asked another set of questions, “is it a mental pain or physical? Does it feel like your heart hurts? Is it body pain? Are you having cramps?” After each question he asked you shook your head. When you pulled away you wiped your tears with the overly long sleeves of your sweater. “Is it a pain that needs to be satisfied?” He asked. You knew what he was implying.

“No no I’m fine it’s none of that. Well I- I don’t know what it is. I’m just..” after finally speaking up to try to explain to him you trailed off not knowing what was really bothering you and how to even say that you didn’t know. Juhan pressed his lips to yours in a soft and comforting kiss that helped you relax a little. He peppered your face with kisses before he spoke up.

“I have an idea c’mon.” Juhan with all his strength pulled you out of bed and took you to the closet. You were both in lounge pants and were clearly not appropriate to go outside so Juhan helped himself put on a shirt under his jacket and helped you into a coat and a scarf. When he wrapped the scarf around your neck he kissed your nose and pinched your cheek in between his fingers. Holding your hand after you were both bundled up he led you, after putting shoes and socks on of course, to the car.

After helping you in and getting you buckled he got in on his side and turned the heat on. It was probably less than 30 degrees out as it was the middle of winter. When he was stopped at a light you turn to him, “where are we going?” You asked still sniffling.

“It’s a surprise.” Juhan smiled at you the city lights lighting up the inside of the car. It was a busy, now early Saturday morning and there were cars everywhere as well as people walking around. Mostly couples around your age but you did see a few older people and some kids with their parents walking around. The streets were different at night and it was calming to you and felt less hectic despite how many people were actually out. Every once in a while Juhan would reach over to pat your leg or hold your hand in his while he drove. The longer you drove the less busy it got, the flashy lights of the city disappearing in the rear view mirror. You saw less late night stores open and less people out and about.

Starting to see houses and empty spaces in between roads and dim street lights and stray animals running around you wondered where Juhan could possibly be going so far out like this. You finally stopped in a gravel lot, a few cars were around and there was a food truck parked next to a street lamp. A few picnic table set up near the food truck and one person you watched run back at forth from the truck to some building in the dark. You didn’t speak up just let Juhan help you out of the car and you walked with his arm around you to the truck.

“It’s cold out here Juhan.” A disgruntled whine accidentally escaped you. You’d rather be in bed nice and warm under the covers and the soft and heavy blanket Juhan had that you absolutely loved. Not standing out in the middle of nowhere in lounge pants and a winter parka. You looked down at the gravel your boots kicking the lose rocks around as you both waited for the person to come back to the truck.

“I know but it’ll be worth it. It might make you feel better too.” Juhan wrapped his arms around you pulling you into a hug his scarf tickling your face making you giggle. When the person came back you were surprised, it was an elderly man quickly making his way to his truck. You both greeted him and approached the window. You linked your arm in his and let Juhan order for the two of you. It seems like he had been here before as he knew what he wanted and he carried on a conversation with the man laughing and telling stories. You smiled thinking about how cute the interaction was as you watched the elderly man work fast. He had his own rhythm that was satisfying to watch and hear as he sang a few songs. This place was making you feel better already, something about the atmosphere was so calming and real unlike the bustling city.

After thanking the man and paying for the food you and Juhan walked to a table. You suggested it would be nice to sit at least in the same area as the man instead of in the car or driving away. “So who is he and how did you find this place?” You asked. Juhan smiled and paused thinking about those memories. You let him feed you a spoonful of the food. It was warm and the flavors felt good going down. It was comfort food if you said so yourself.

“I’ve known him for years, he was a friend of a friend and he used to run a restaurant out in the city but something happened and he disappeared.” You listened to the story your eyes almost sparkling as Juhan recalled. “I thought he died until a few months ago I was driving down here cause I got side tracked and I found him again. His restaurant went under and a few years later he lost his wife and his kids all moved out of town. He decided to run a small food truck down here were he knew there were others like him with loved ones they lost and he wanted to do something good for them.” As Juhan spoke your heart both broke and fluttered for the poor man.

“Aww that’s so sweet Juhan!” As you two continued to eat a few more people showed up and the old man came out every once in a while to check on you guys and engage in conversation. He told you stories that Juhan himself hadn’t heard yet. By now you had a small group of people at your table and you were all talking and sharing stories and sharing laughs as the morning went on. The man soon said that he needed to close up as his children were coming to visit him over the next few weeks. You and Juhan said your goodbyes to the old man and the friendly strangers and you all parted ways, walking back to the car hand in hand. You definitely felt better after getting out and eating some good food.

“Thank you Juhan.” You said on the drive home. “I appreciate you doing your best to make me feel better even if I’m difficult sometimes.” You and Juhan shared a smile and he leaned over to kiss you. “Anything for you my love.”

Also also um this pic is what also made me want to write a soft lil Juhan thing :] so I put this look in :] he’s so pretty and bofie <3 this pic inspired this fic uwu

#blitzers #juhan #blitzers juhan #blitzers fanfics #blitzers writing #juhan fanfics #juhan writing #kpop fanfics #kpop writing #blitzers fluff #juhan fluff #kpop fluff

[danascullysjournal]

For the ask game, I'd love to know 2, 18, and 32!

Thank you so much for the ask! 🥰

I did get a little heavy on this but you asked SO this is my honest reply. I do see the world brighter than this post makes it seem though 😂 Have a wonderful day!

2. Goodness I used to use nothing but pen all the time, but that was high school and college. Now my hands cramp up too much. I still like to do handwritten script for poetry. It has more feeling to me, somehow…? I used to carry around a little notebook/sketchbook for exactly that.

18. TW: Autopsy Scene

Unfortunately for me, and probably any readers, I’m neck-deep in a fic that takes place after “Milagro” in The X Files, called If You Will Let Me. It started as a single “Mulder needs to cuddle Scully and make sure she’s not bleeding out” one shot, but I could *not* stop thinking about how swayed Scully was by Padgett, and how insanely out of character it seemed.

I decided to give Scully a chance to cut him open, regain some control. She deserved that, and Chp 2 happened. Here is the excerpt:

“Victim is a Phillip Padgett, 32 year old male…” she studied the gaping hole in his chest, wreathed in the pale of chilled epidermis and the crusted, deep burgundy of his dried blood. “Apparent cause of death: self-inflicted… removal of heart.”

She could not stop herself from considering that this fate was exactly what he had planned for her. She swallowed hard, picked up her scalpel and continued.

His flesh cut under her skilled blade like every other cadaver she had examined, and with each slice, each organ, each measurement, she grew to be a bit more of herself. This was her profession. Measurable. Controlled. Messy, at times, but peaceful in that the outcomes were documented, usually expected, and always under her control.

She took the heart, which had been placed back into the body for storage in morgue refrigeration, and placed it on the scale for measurement.

“Heart. Weight, 10.3 ounces. Tissue appears healthy.” But it wasn’t, Scully thought. She felt a frown trace along her lips. His heart had not been healthy all. Yet somehow, she had been swayed by it anyway. It frightened her more than she dared to admit.”

While I was writing this, I felt more and more.. uneasy? Sickened? By a) Padgett’s ability to manifest a killer and knowingly kill people without being present, and b) his apparent ability to get *inside of Scully’s head and manipulate her thoughts and desires.* Who does that? It’s essentially rape, but on a mental level. Physically she was fine, but emotionally, mentally, she absolutely was not.

And I cannot really put into words how much I relate to how Scully must have felt, and how the triggers and reimaginings can take over. It became a quest to help her name and process what Padgett had done AND to somehow explain the how and why behind it all. And get her and Mulder together in spite of all that- a piece that says “yes, horrible things happen, but you can have a partner with you that will walk it all *with* you, and you’ll be okay in the end.”

32. The Lady of Shallott by Alfred, Lord Tennyson was my favorite poem all through college, and even though it’s old and has little to do with fanfic, the theme is (in my opinion) interesting and still relevant.

This section has stuck with me all these years.

“No time hath she to sport and play:

A charmed web she weaves alway.

A curse is on her, if she stay

Her weaving, either night or day,

To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be;

Therefore she weaveth steadily,

Therefore no other care hath she,

The Lady of Shalott.”

She is so afraid of what could happen to her that she views the world only through a mirrored reflection. The concept of working and obeying for the fear of the unknown is so very striking to me.

Eventually she is lured to turn her head. Ironically, when she finally does make the choice to turn and see the real outside world beyond her tower, it was just to see a singing man passing by (Sir Lancelot, arguably the Grand Hussie of Arthurian legend). He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even notice her, but the curse is immediately brought down on her and she is a corpse by sunset.

The whole idea of being imprisoned to your fear, or seeing the real world for what it is (not always wonderful) and succumbing to it is fascinating to me. And she was led, unwittingly, to her pained death by a man.

**I should note, I’m married, but once divorced. There are good humans and there are selfish and vain humans, and I read the poem to be a cautionary tale against the latter.

#lovely asks #thank you for asking! #and bless anyone who reads this #I got carried away #its my mo i suppose

[blue-eyed-bloodstains]

What make up product do you never use? I rarely wear make up, usually only for like certain occasions but one thing I’ve never used is foundation

Do you ever sit with your legs open? more than I probably should lol it’s the tomboy in me...I’m always in jeans so it’s whatever I don’t care :P

Have you ever been offered drugs on the street? no

What is one place you have been to and hated? Clifton, CO...

Have you ever seen a jellyfish? not in person

Do you know who Dylan Moran is? yeah

What’s your favourite kind of soup? alphabet lol no joke

Do you ever put bread in your soup? if it’s tomato soup of course I dip my grilled cheese in it! otherwise no

Would you like me to stop asking questions about soup? lol I don’t mind

Is there anything in the USB key slots in your computer/laptop? no

What advertisements are on your screen at the moment? none

Do you ever get a really itchy nose when you’re unable to scratch it? I mean I can scratch it but it just keeps itching and drives me nuts sometimes lol

Has anyone ever randomly licked your face? not full on lick but like poke with his tongue when kissing my cheek to mess with me lol 

When was the last time you bought a book? Tom Felton’s memoir a few months ago

What question do you hate being asked in surveys? they can get pretty repetitive but I don’t necessarily hate any, it is what it is 

Are you upstairs or downstairs at the minute? it’s a one level house so neither lol

Did anyone ever draw on your face when you were sleeping? no

Have you ever done that to someone else? I’d never do that, I’m not Jigglypuff :P

Have you ever been asked for directions? yeah

If so, did you ever give someone wrong directions? hopefully not, I suck with directions even for myself let alone trying to help someone else!

What’s your favourite brand of chocolate, galaxy, cadburys, or nestle? Nestle since the other two aren’t a thing here lol

Are there any farm animals near you? oh yeah there’s tons of farm land here so lots of people have cattle. closest ones to farm animal around here I’ve seen are goats, sheep, and cows

Are there any lakes near you? a few small ones

Was there ever a time when you felt absolutely terrified? a lot of times actually

If so, why? many reasons, depends on what terrified me at the time

Is there any TV show you watch religiously? Jeopardy, Shark Tank, Hoarders, EVERYTHING on ID (crime shows), Law and Order: SVU, court shows mainly Judge Judy, Bar Rescue, To Catch A Smuggler...just to name ‘a few’ XD

Have you ever been in your local newspaper? one time the first time we moved to CO, I was in 5th grade and our class was in the newspaper for our class pet and I’m reaching toward it to pet it which is the pic they chose for the paper lol it wasn’t front page or anything though

Have you ever called your mother ma or mammy? no

Can you imitate any other accent? yeah Brit and “country” pretty well, I think :P

What is your funniest memory of the 6th contact in your phone? ironically enough that’s my fiance cause I have him listed as ‘Babe’ XD and wayyyy too many to even count or list

Have you ever protested? no

Have you ever participated in a parade? no

Are you going to do anything for Paddy’s day? already passed and couldn’t drink so...sucked

Were you ever chased by an animal? not that I remember

Has anyone ever really insulted you? ha you serious? all my life

Have you ever told an elder to fuck off? not to their face...but I’ve worked a lot of retail so nuff said XD

Do you ever make banana sandwiches? oh my goddddd no but I fuckin love them!

Do you blush easily? ohhh yeah it’s ridiculous lol

Are you single/or taken? taken

Are you happy with that?^ yes

Do you make the first move or do you prefer it the other way around? other way around

What is the most painful thing you’ve experienced? physically I’d say my collarbone being broken, with ovarian cysts bursting and the cramps from that a very tight close second

Do you feel guilty about anything? all the fuckin time

Do you hug someone whenever you see them? my fiance, my dad/stepmom/stepsis when we visit them in NJ

Have you ever been in the accidents and emergency room? I damn near live in the ER...accident wise? yeah, a few bike wrecks growing up and most recently when I totaled my car last year due to a DUI....I should be dead right now, let’s put it that way and I somehow came out with only major whiplash and a few bumps and bruises..

When was the last time you bled? What happened? I won’t state the obvious since I’m a woman XD umm this major basal cell on my hairline that I’m having major surgery on soon to remove with subsequent surgeries for skin grafts given how extensive it’ll be bleeds/pusses all the time even without touching it and rescabs/repeats so...yeah 

Is there anyone you know that gives you the creeps? not that I can think of at the moment

Do you call random objects ‘gay’? no

Have you ever started talking to someone that you thought was someone else? no

When you look behind you what catches your attention the most? the tv tray next to the loveseat (I’m sitting with my back against the armrest and legs stretched out) and the clutter on it :P

#survey #bored #about me #random

[daechwitatamic]

Ok I'm fully rested and ready to tell you all my favorite parts of the last chapter.

1) "I never felt like I didn't know you." YES! We all really needed to hear this. I was worried initally Taehyung might confirm Nina's comment. I felt so frustrated bc even though she was hesitant I thought there were so many genuine moments we saw OC fight against her survival instincts and push herself out of her comfort zone to share parts of herself, and I'm so happy Taehyung saw that. It's ok to not feel comfortable opening up to someone until trust is established and Davis and Nina proved that they were not worthy of earning OCs trust so they have no right to gaslight her into thinking she was the cause for their treacherous actions. Do you see OC and Nina ever making up or do you think she will learn its best to let Nina go?

2) "An outline of the boy who sees you, knows you, loves you." Ugh this might be favorite line of the whole series.

3) "Since Strindberg!" Omg the way I can picture irl Taehyung doing the exact same thing in this moment. It reminds me of the "medic! medic!" moments from Run BTS. I remember you saying you only write for Taehyung right now bc you feel most comfortable writing in his voice and this was a moment where I felt your ability to capture his playful but earnest spirit really shone through.

4) The smut scene at the end was so good! When they first went to the basement I was like really? On the pong table? After that sweet love confession? But then per usual you surprised us with a switch up and a steamy but still very sweet scene! I love how you pepper in realistic moments of silliness or awkwardness during these scenes, like OC getting a leg cramp a few chapters earlier. It makes them feel so much more real than so much of the smut out there that sometimes describes things that are not even physically possible lol.

5) And lastly Taehyungs final words. Just the perfect ending moment that was romantic in all the right ways while still being authentic. And don't get me started with the fact that the first thing he called her in that list was smart. Swoon.

And yes 😱 you totally had me going for a moment! I was like girl did you not just say "what was it all for??"

I'm so sad this series is over but so excited for more CF drabbles and Trip! I can't wait to reread the whole series again once I start missing it and find more of the little threads you've woven throughout that I probably didn't see the first time. And in the meantime will start making my wishlist of WWH drabble requests.

Ty author for the wonderful story! I hope you are not overwhelmed by my long and frequent messages, I just love your work and want to give back even a fraction of the joy you give us readers! 💕

🌴

Ughhhhh 🌴anon i love you 😭😭😭😭😭😭

and 2. kind of go together. Something I wanted to convey in WWH is that he REALLY *knows her*. Bad, good, he GETS it. And that’s partly him, but it’s partly her LETTING him, despite everything, despite every instinct telling her to throw up walls. And as you talked abt last time - how she extends so much grace to him? Once he’s cooled down, in his heart he extends the same grace to her and that’s something that makes me SO emotional abt these two.

Honestly, as an adult person who has walked away from MULTIPLE toxic friendships and came out stronger for it, no, I don’t see oc and Nina reconciling. OC deserves better from her friends, and she’s learning through this story to realize her worth. I made my ride or dies in college, and i see that future for oc, kiko, and brig.

bless you for saying this 😭😭😭 the taetae i know and love is SILLY and him teasing her up through the last second feels so true to me 🥺🥺🥺

4. Ty for complimenting the smut bc it still feels so difficult to write 😭🫣🫣🫣 jimin voice, I’m shhyyyyyyy 🫣🫣🫣

5. Fr fr i feel like if you asked wwh!tae what attracts him to oc his #1 answer would be that big sexy brain!!!!! Also of course he has to tease her even then “look how easy this is” I LOVE HIM 😭😭

6. POV requests go up tmrw morning! Looking forward to it! Thank YOU for these amazing reviews. I could never be overwhelmed, i wish every reader did this. I think most authors would agree, getting to talk with ppl abt their thoughts and reactions to what we create is honestly the dream.

#🌴 anon #answered #wwh replies

[rezzyromance]

Could I request Heisenberg with a female s/o who's negatively pent up from anxiety and depression and feeling like they're not good enough for Karl but they always put on a brave face to not look weak? They just want to make him happy and proud maybe maybe when they're either fucking or just working, maybe he says an offhand comment that hits home, idk being called useless is a good one to feel like being stabbed. They love him but they've been hiding all their mental struggles and bottling it up be a use they always focused on him first? Mental health feels neglected rn and could use the hurt/comfort if you're okay with this! Up to you if you want to add smut or not, with or without is great

Of course, baby. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the story. (CW: Hurt/Comfort, mentions of anxiety and depression. Sexual scenarios: Fingering, face riding, praising, general NSFW)

Living with Karl is a task that can be mentally taxing on anyone. For you, this wasn't an exception. There was no doubt in your mind that you loved him, but that dragged along a few issues with it. You loved him so much, that you constantly felt an unbearable pressure that pushed you to attempt to impress him out of fear that he may view you as inferior to him. Karl is without a doubt strong, insanely intelligent, passionate, and all around tremendously powerful. Often times you wondered why he even keeps you around.

You had grown very close with him over time. He never put a real title on your relationship, but you both knew that he loved you. He loved you enough to let you help out on his work. He assigned little tasks for you to do such as organizing his blueprints, creating blueprints, and organizing his tools. Each time you did something, he would reward you with praise. Sometimes the praise would be heart to heart while other times it may be skin to skin. While the praise he provided felt rewarding, you began to worry what may happen if your work wasn't good enough. What if you weren't good enough? What if he stopped finding you useful or attractive? These troubling thoughts had been torturing you recently. But, you kept it all bottled up, worried that he may view you as weak if he knew you were so afraid of failure. Whenever you would work on something, you would sit there for hours on end. Nothing could stop you until you were finished. You did this as a way to imitate Karl and his tireless work. Though, Karl does have powers that help keep his body from shutting down the way yours does. That didn't stop you from constantly pushing yourself overboard, though.

A knot grew larger and larger in your throat as you attempted to sketch out a new blueprint, slouching while sitting on your bed. He had asked you to work on it that morning and it was nearly midnight now. The lines were uneven, your hand writing was messy, and it was easy to see where you had erased and redrawn a lot of little details all over the paper. A single tear fell from your eye and onto the paper, causing a wet spot where the ink began to smear. You ignore your body and minds cry for help by quickly wiping your eyes and acting as if it didn't happen. Your hands were shaking as you applied more details, not being close to finish. Your eyes were twitching, fed up with staring down so harshly at the paper for so long. Suddenly, the door to the room opens.

You jump and face the door, realizing how cramped your neck was from your poor posture. Karl entered the room, obviously tired from a long days work. His eyes looked heavy and he was running his hands through his hair. "Still working on that blueprint, buttercup?", he asks as he walks towards you. You look back at the paper and realize how low quality it was, along with unfinished. You quickly hold the paper to your chest, attempting to block it from him. 'Um it's almost finished I swear! I just n-need to add a few more little details.", you assure him. He holds his hand out. "Let me see.", he raises an eyebrow and begins to wiggle his fingers. You attempt to swallow the knot in your throat as you shakily hand it over.

Your hands clutch each other tightly, digging what's left of your bitten nails into your skin. His eyes scan each inch of the paper and his eyebrows begin to furrow. "What.. is this?", he looks over to you. "What?", you're voice is shaky and cracking, but you attempt to cover it up by clearing your throat. "(Y/N)... you've been in here all day and THIS is all you could do? What have you been doing all day?", his voice began to grow into a semi-shout. It felt like thunder as it shook your body. You take a deep breath, attempting to toughen up to his words. "I really did try! I did exactly what you told me an-" he cuts you off before you can finish. "Really? You did exactly as I told you?! You said you could have this done by tonight and i trusted your judgement. But (Y/N) this shit is useless!"

He continues to fuss, but it was all silent to you. All you could hear was the echo of his voice saying that word. "Useless." The one thing you feared of becoming. The one thing you feared of creating. Your balled fists begin to shake. Your lip begins to quiver and your eyes grow cloudy.

"I'M SORRY!", you cry out before looking down at the floor, failing to control your tears as they fell to the floor. Suddenly, your eyes began to flood. Your stomach and heart felt like they were twisting and turning with guilt. He froze, unsure of how to handle this sudden outburst. "Was I too harsh?", he thought. "I'VE TRIED SO HARD TO BE GOOD ENOUGH. GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU! I'VE TRIED TO PERFECT YOUR WORK. I'VE TRIED TO LOOK MY BEST EVERY DAY! FOR YOU! I'VE DONE EVERYTHING YOU'VE TOLD ME TO!", your whole body shakes as you break down. "I never told you that you had to do any of that! What the hell have you been pushing yourself so hard for?", his tone was still stern, but he wasn't angry. He was very concerned, but had no idea how to express it. "I WANTED TO MAKE YOU PROUD!", you continue to cry.

The room was silent other than your quiet sobbing. He didn't know what to say. He had no clue that you had put so much pressure on yourself to impress him. He had no idea on why it mattered so much to you. And in that moment, something in him began to ache. He remembered being like that once. So dead set on making others proud of him no matter what it took. He had no clue what to say due to no one ever being there for him in his time of struggle, so instead he goes for a more physical approach.

He grabs you by the arm and pulls you to his body, holding you close. You bury your face in his chest to try and muffle your cries. He runs his hand through your hair, still confused as to why you pushed yourself so hard for him. "I just..", you sniffle. "I just wanted to be good enough.. for you...", you say as you try to stop crying. He lifted you up, carrying you bridal style to the bed. He crawled up and sat his back against a pillow, continuing to hold you close as you buried your face in his neck.

"Look at me.", he held your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger and waited for you to face him. You sniffle and pull your head up to meet him eye to eye. There was a new look in his eyes. Something unfamiliar to the both of you. Tenderness. "You are good enough. And I am so proud of you. Everyday you make me proud. Every time I look at you I'm proud.", he begins to wipe the tears from your face, struggling to find the right words to say. "Look. You don't need to overwork yourself. The fact that you stick around with me to begin with is enough for me." A small smile begins to grow on your face. The sight warms him and helps reassure him that he didn't say anything dumb.

Once you've seemed to calm down, he pulls you in for a kiss. It was warmer than usual. Softer than usual. And Karl isn't a man known for being soft or gentle. But this kiss was far from rough, but just as passionate. It was reassuring and safe. He pulls away and smiles at the sight of your now blushing face. "There's my pretty girl. Now, if you feel like it... since we're already on the bed.. I think I know a thing or two you can do if you still wanna feel useful.", he offers with a sly grin. You giggle and begin to straddle his lap. "Sounds good to me." you say as his hands start to wander around your hips.

"But, we're gonna be doing something different.", he says as his eyes scan every inch of your body. "What's that?", you go to unbuckle his belt but he grabs your wrist before you can continue. "Tonight's all about you. I wanna make you feel good.", he says. During every sexual situation you've had, you had focused on pleasing him first, not thinking about yourself and your own wants and desires. You don't object, so he moves his hands back to your hips and pulls you off of his body, effortlessly tossing you onto your back on the bed.

He then pins himself above you, towering over you. Your heart races at the new experience and your face glows more and more pink. His eyes meet yours and the sight alone is enough to start making your panties grow wet. He lowers his face down to your neck where he begins to place little kisses. Chills run through your body like ocean waves and you let out a quiet gasp as a kiss turns into a nibble. A hickey begins to form and he lets go, moving his mouth to your ear. "I want you to tell me what you want, buttercup." he whispers in your ear as one of his hands begins to wander across your body. It starts up near your breast where he fondles it gently, earning a lip bite from you. Then, he goes lower to your stomach where he scratches lightly at your skin. You squirm beneath his hand. He smiles and begins to kiss you once more before going even further, slipping his hands into your pants and cupping your vagina through your soaking panties. You gasp while your lips are still connected and he gently tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, pleased at the reaction he's gotten from you.

"Is this what you want?", he slips two of his fingers into your panties and finds your clit, rubbing it slowly. "Mhm", you whine and press yourself into him. "Goodgirl.", he moves from where he was and makes his way down to your pants. He unbottons them and begins to pull them off. He throws the pants across the room and crawls back towards you on the bed. He removes your shirt and your bra underneath, throwing them in the same direction of the pants. He lowers his head down to one of your hard nipples and wraps his mouth around it, caressing it with his tongue. This causes you to moan quietly and grip the sheets beneath you. Your nipple was already so tender, so the feeling of his tongue was powerful enough to make you squirm. He lowers his hand back into your panties, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees bend inward, trapping his hand between your legs. He chuckles with your nipple gently between his teeth. "Looks like you like this, huh?" You moan in response.

It didn't take long for you to feel a climax building inside you, coming closer and closer to exploding with each touch he inflicted onto your throbbing clit. Moans of all volumes filled the room as you got closer and closer. Then, right when you were about to cum, he stops. You groan in disappointment and look over at him. "I was just warming you up.", he smirks and lays on his back. "Come here.", he commands and pats on his chest, signaling for you to sit there. You do as he says and sit upon his chest. The second you sit down, His strong hands grip onto your hips and he begins to pull your body towards his face. He places you on top of his mouth. The next thing you know, your soaked pussy is being attacked by his tongue. You can't help but let a moan slip out between your lips as he closes is eyes, fully focused on bringing you maximum pleasure. He places each hand on each thigh, gripping them slightly all while his tongue swirls around your clit. You use one hand to grip the headboard of the bed and the other one to grip his hair, tangling your fingers in the grey strands. You grip harder as he sucks on your clit, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. He let loose a few muffled moans and groans, causing vibrations on your pulsing clit. "Oh fuck Karl!", you feel your body weight sink lower and lower as you melt into the pleasure of his tongue. You begin to grind your hips back and forth, riding out your orgasm. He doesn't mind at all and begins to work harder to finally push you to your limit. With a loud moan, you cum into his mouth.

As you catch your breath and shake on top of him, he grabs you once again and pushes you over onto the bed. His beard was shiny around his lips due to a mixture of your sweat and cum. He looks down at your flustered and flushed face, pleased with what he'd done. You noticed a large bulge protruding from his pants. "I want you.", you pant as you reach over, massaging the hard lump. He responds by stripping, too breathless to verbally respond. Once he's fully naked, he makes his way onto the bed. You take him by the shoulder and pull his face into yours, initiating a passionate make out session. Your tongues caressing one another as you both toss and turn, ending up with you straddling him.

You rub his already throbbing dick, preparing for its entry. It was quite large and veiny. The hair that led from his lower stomach to his pubic area glistened with precum. You position yourself and begin to sit on his dick, letting it slowly fit inside you. Your extra wetness helped lube it. Once it was completely in, Karl groaned, grabbing your ass in his calloused hands. "Fuck.. you're so good.", he encourages. You begin to slowly rise and fall, letting your pussy stretch to comfortably fit his girth. You both moaned quietly. Once you feel comfortable, you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to bounce on it, feeling each thick vein add texture. 'What a good girl..." Every time you made your way back down, you could feel the tip of his dick reach your special spot, making your knees feel weak. As overwhelming as it felt, you couldn't stop. You continued to bounce up and down on his dick as his fingers grip your ass for dear life. "You're doing so good.", he praises you and you thank him by clashing your lips together, sharing sloppy kisses as you both moan with each up and down motion. "Such a good girl.", he begins to squeeze your breast, causing you to squeal and pick up the pace. It felt amazing, but your legs grew weaker and weaker with each motion, and he could tell. You were panting as you fucked yourself senseless on his dick.

"Wait a sec.", he gently pats your ass to get you to stop. You stop and rest your sweaty forehead to his, legs shaking beneath you. You didn't want to stop, but you weren't sure how much longer you could continue. Your legs felt like they were on fire. 'Let me help you.", his hands glide up to your waist where he clutches your sides and begins to bounce you up and down, continuing the motion you could no longer do yourself. You kiss him and whine into his lips as he slams your body up and down, grunting harder each time. "Such a pretty girl.." he pants. "Riding my cock so good..", he begins to slam his hips into you, reaching a point inside you that he's never reached before. You throw your head back and moan, tears of pleasure and bliss begin to form in your eyes. You're both exhausted and so close to finishing. You're whole body felt like it was numb and on fire at the same time as your climax creeped closer and closer.

And with a few more strong pumps into you, you both cum. He lets loose of your sides and wraps his arms around your back, drenching in sweat. You collapse on top of him, unable to move any of your body. Karl places a few more sloppy kisses across your face, his facial hair tickling your skin. "Don't you ever.. ever believe you're not good enough. Got it?", he pressures. You're too exhausted to form words, so you simply nod your head, laying down on his chest. His heart beat was rapid but soothing. Soon enough, it lulled you to sleep. He soon followed, keeping his arms wrapped tight around you the entire time.

#re8 #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg headcanon #karl heisenberg headcanons #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg angst #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenburg #karl heisenberg smut

[songbirdstyles]

let it bleed

summary: you’re on your period, and harry just wants to make you feel good.

warnings: smut, shower sex, period sex, clothed sex/grinding, fingering

word count: 6.8k words

song inspo: let it bleed - the rolling stones (aren’t i funny)

Waking up on Saturday is generally a blissful experience - sleeping in until the day feels nearly gone, lounging with Harry around the house or heading outside when the weather permits it - sure, every day in quarantine could be chalked up to just another Saturday but there’s something different about the actual day itself. Harry’s usually awake entirely too early during the week, sitting at the kitchen table with his headphones in, suffering through meetings with producers and managers for much longer than what could possibly be bearable. And you’re generally holed up at your desk, trying not to fucking die of boredom as you sit through useless Zoom sessions and assignments given by superiors who don’t understand technology - needless to say, you’d rather waste your days wrapped in Harry’s arms than sitting through that.

This Saturday, though, wakes you up a few hours later than you usually would, Harry’s head pressed into your chest, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, fingers clutched tight on the oversized t-shirt you’d donned to bed. Chestnut curls brush the end of your nose and a sleepy smile tilts your lips upwards as your eyes crack open, squinting up at the ceiling of your bedroom, only dimly aware of the low stream of early morning light shining through the window beside your bed.

You never usually wake this early, do you? No, you don’t, and you tilt your head to glare at the clock mounted on the wall across the room from you. It’s 4:56, a whole 5 hours before you’d ever even consider getting out of bed, and, yet, your body had forced you awake for seemingly no reason. You could be curling yourself up in Harry’s arms, legs around his torso and arms around his neck as his snores ring in your ears like a lullaby, except -

There’s a dull pain in your abdomen, right above your belly button, twisting your insides with just enough force to rip a soft groan from your lips. It’s a feeling you recognize entirely too well, cramps throttling your uterus like they’re trying to fucking murder you and you’re sure that, whenever you muster the energy to pull yourself out of bed and waddle over to the bathroom, you’ll see the physical proof of exactly what’s causing it.

Harry stirs against your chest, arm tightening around your waist until his forearm is pressed to your abdomen, face pushing further into your boobs as though it’s intentional. You stare down at him for a moment - perhaps he’ll crack an eye open, lips turning up, just to see how you’d reacted - but, no, he’s truly asleep. Dead asleep, you’d assume as you lift a hand to run through his messy hair and he doesn’t move at the motion.

You hate untangling yourself from him, almost always forcing him awake, but you suppose it’s repercussions for him being such a damn cuddler - not that you’d dream of complaining.

Slowly your fingers wrap around his wrist, his fingertips still held tight onto your shirt (or is it his? You never truly know, sometimes) as though it’s some sort of lifeline - still, it’s easy enough to pull his hand from your clothes, reaching over to rest his arm against the side of his body and he hardly stirs at the disruption. 

Of course, the next part is destined to be much less graceful and significantly more disruptive to your loving boyfriend, resting like a sleeping angel, practically on top of you - you press your palm to the side of the bed next to you and use it as leverage to roll out of his embrace, pausing once you land on your back to see if he wakes.

(At the same time, you feel a familiar swooping sensation in the pit of your tummy that - isn’t pleasant, to say the very least, and you scrunch your nose up at the feeling.)

That seemed to do the trick - Harry drops flat on his face on top of the mattress and wakes with a jolt as though you’d doused him with water, pushing himself onto his forearms just as you stand up, stretching your arms high above your head with a sigh.

“What’reyoudoin’?” he slurs out, voice dripping with raspiness and sleep and you look back just as he drops his head back onto the pillow. You could fool yourself into thinking he’s gone back to bed until he lifts his head up, eyebrow raised just so. “Come back, babe - s’so early -”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you tell him, sliding your feet into your Santa slippers before making your way across the bedroom towards the bathroom, its door creaked open just so. You pause once you pass your dresser and open the top drawer, grabbing a fresh pair of panties and balling them up in your fist. “You can go back to bed - I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll wait,” he insists, eyes already drooping shut as you close the bathroom door behind you, shuffling over to the toilet as you wince at the discomfort. You certainly hadn’t needed any sort of confirmation to affirm your suspicion but you still get one - blood stains your panties, your sleep shorts mercifully spared, and you kick them off your legs, balling the blood-soaked panties with a grimace. 

It takes only a minute or two to clean yourself up, and when you’ve put in a tampon and pulled on your new panties and sleep shorts, you rifle through the bathroom cabinet searching for the small bottle of painkillers that your abdomen yearns for - there’s few pills left, used mainly for this time of the month, and you shake three into your palm and pop them into your mouth. It’ll take a while to kick in - twenty minutes, usually, and that’s if you get lucky - but you’ll hopefully be fast asleep in Harry’s arms during that time. They’re not horrible, anyway, your cramps - usually they’re worse, and you’re sure they’ll pain you more as the day progresses, but at least you can take pills now to settle them.

You flick the light switch so the room basks itself in darkness before heading back into your bedroom, eyes landing on Harry’s figure, duvet pushed down to just above his hips, arms stretched high above his head. Even in the dim light of the room, illuminated solely by the rising sun that peeps through the window, you can see the way his eyes follow you - instead of walking around the bed to your side, you stop beside him, reaching down to run your fingers through his curls.

“Tha’s nice,” Harry murmurs, moving his head up further into your grasp and you grin. “Are y’comin’ back t’bed, then?”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, voice soft, and hardly one minute ago it had been your intent to crawl into bed beside him and sleep off the first morning of your period but you’re feeling an entirely different urge, now, gaze locking with his for just a moment, and he raises his eyebrows slightly. “Yeah - scoot over.”

Harry scoffs with a lazy smile but obliges, shifting to the side so you can clamber into bed beside him. One bare arm lifts to wrap around your waist as you curl into his side, tilting your head upwards to land a light kiss to the underside of his jaw. Your palm goes up to the side of his face, cold fingertips pressed to his cheek as you tilt his head towards you, suckling light kisses into the delicate skin on the column of his throat, and you can feel his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your lips as he exhales.

“What’re you doing?” your boyfriend questions softly, fingertips fiddling with the ends of your hair as you lift your leg to throw across both of his, kisses trailing further down his neck and your palm smoothing up and down his bare chest, nails scratching his skin softly. “Tryin’ t’make me horny - you’re the devil.”

“I’m not,” you murmur against his skin, which is a lie and a pathetic one at that, as your calf dips higher to caress the bulge in his boxers that seems to harden with every pucker of your lips against his neck. 

“You are,” Harry insists, hand sliding down your back until he reaches the hem of your sleep shorts, and before he can duck his fingers beneath the fabric your face heats up and you push yourself to straddle him, core situated directly over his cock, and he groans, the noise guttural and raspy. “What’s got you so worked up, hmm?”

You don’t answer - and it’s not as though it’s embarrassing to admit that you’re on your period, because you’ve certainly been with Harry long enough to know that he’s not a man with masculinity so fragile that it breaks with the mere mention of menstruation - but you’d rather not shatter the moment you’ve created by announcing that it can’t go on further than it already has. Instead, you roll your hips against his, spurred on by his soft moan as your hands slide down his arms until your palms press to his and you interlock your fingers, using it as leverage to rock your body against his with more force.

“Oh, shit,” Harry breathes, head digging backwards into his pillow and you drop your head back, grinding your clit against his bulge and even through the layers of fabric between you, the stimulation is good enough to pull a whimper from your throat - you hadn’t thought you’d been that needy but perhaps you were more desperate for him than you’d suspected. His hands untangle from yours and slide up your thighs, landing on your ass, fingers spreading to encompass as much of your fabric-covered skin as he can, rocking you deeper against him.

You moan softly, bracing your hands on his chest as his grasp on your ass tightens, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts and you can feel his cock twitching in his boxers against your cunt - his hips buck gently up into yours and if you were like him, you’d tut and murmur for him to stay still, baby, but you’re nicer than that. “God, Har -”

Large hands slide from holding the globes of your ass up to your waist, fingertips smoothing circles into your skin through your shirt and the motion helps to ease the cramps still throbbing in your abdomen, though significantly lessened by both the Advil you’d taken and the pleasure building in your body as you grind against your boyfriend. Orgasms always help with cramps - when you were younger you’d spend hours in the shower, fingers toying with your clit and bringing yourself to cum over and over again. And now - well, you still do that, though grinding against Harry is much more pleasurable than doing it yourself. “I’m gonna cum, Har,” you breathe, and you lean your body forward, palms pressed into the pillow beside his head until you can dip your head down, lips pressing to his in a heated kiss that he moans into, holding your waist tighter against his dick. “Just - just a little more -”

“Don’t,” Harry grunts, which is what you’d expected him to say, and you push yourself back up, detaching your lips from his as you rise to sit above him again, hips still working against him with ease. “Wanna be inside you, baby - need t’fuck you -”

You bring your hands to his wrists when he reaches for the waistband of your shorts, preventing him from tugging them down your stomach and he looks up at you, brows furrowed and lips parted with desire as you breathe, “No - can’t -”

“Please -”

“I’m on my period,” you tell him, feeling heat creep up your neck and tainting your cheeks, and to compensate you grind further down on him, dropping your head back at his responding groan. 

His tongue darts out to lap at his lips briefly, hands smoothing back down to palm your ass and he doesn’t look nearly as weirded out as you’d expected - you hadn’t thought he’d push you off but you didn’t think he’d start rocking you against him with a new intensity that rips a whine from your throat. Harry doesn’t waste another moment before responding, as though you’d merely told him the weather instead of the current state of your menstrual cycle, “I don’t care, need t’be in you -”

He’s horny, your brain tells yourself. He would care if you hadn’t been grinding on him for nearly ten minutes. And you could accept his declaration of carelessness at face value and strip down and take him but he wouldn’t want it if he was thinking straight, and he’s decidedly not, now, brain muddled with sleep and horniness, even as his hands begin smoothing up the fabric riding up your ass. Fingertips graze your ass beneath your shorts and you jolt -

You’ll suck him off when you’re done, and you’re so close - it’s just another roll of your hips as Harry’s hands grasp your ass, digging into your skin so tight you’ll surely see bruises later that will do unspeakable things to your menstruating brain -

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as Harry moans beneath you, grinding yourself vigorously against him with a desperate whimper, and you’d cringe at it in any other instance but God, it feels so good, better than anything your fingers could do in the shower, and you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed as your orgasm washes over you. It’s fast and brutal and your body jerkily attempts to maintain a rhythm against your boyfriend’s clothed cock but it’s difficult, arms shaking with the force of holding yourself up as your thighs tighten around his hips, and finally you lean forward, crashing your lips to Harry’s so he can swallow your needy moans.

His palms slide up your ass to your back, pressing against the small of your back as you lazily roll your hips over his, riding out the last aftershocks of your release until you’re done, dropping your head to his chest as heat floods your face. Perhaps he can tell you’re feeling embarrassed - he can read you like a book, generally - and his hands move up beneath your shirt, hands warm against your bare back as he breathes heavily.

(His dick is still throbbingly hard beneath you, and it’s a wonder he’s not bucking his hips into yours to chase his release, but he is, first and foremost, a gentleman.)

“Please -” he murmurs as you move your head so your cheek is pressed to his chest, feeling his heart thumping against your face. “Need t’fuck you, baby - little blood doesn’t bother me -”

Well, he’s still horny, and you ignore the way your stomach flips just like you ignore his words, sliding down his body and laying kisses against his skin as you tug the duvet fully off his body. You’ll consider his words later - debate how much he means it, and maybe he’ll mention it again later - but, for now, you can’t go on leaving him so painfully hard under you, especially when the thought of sucking him off sounds so appealing -

 ~~

 The topic goes, for the most part, unmentioned throughout the rest of the day - the two of you fall back to sleep after your early morning ministrations but only for a few more hours, venturing into the kitchen at 8 to have breakfast out in the garden. French toast amongst flowers is an unmatched experience and one you hadn’t had before quarantine, but you and Harry try to take advantage of the weather before it starts to get too chilly to spend time outside. You still had to run inside to grab cardigans for you both to don but - well, it’s the principle that matters.

And after breakfast comes movies, searching through Amazon until you find something you both haven’t seen, and Harry heads to warm your heating pad as you sacrifice the $3.99 to watch Almost Famous, and he returns with your pad just as you clear a space for him to curl onto the couch behind you. It’s such normal period protocol that you could nearly forget his eagerness to bury himself inside of you, blood and all - 

Nearly.

You haven’t forgotten, even when Jason Lee and Billy Crudup fight in a crashing plane, how Harry had begged you to let him fuck you - and he was horny, only a blind man could deny it, but he’d never made claims he couldn’t keep no matter how hard his dick was. The first time he’d confessed that he loved you, he’d been balls deep in your cunt, back pressed tight to your back as he landed biting kisses to the back of your neck, and he’d murmured the words against your sweaty skin - and, later, when you’d asked if he meant it, he’d told you that he’d never lie t’you when you’re tha’ close t’my bits.

It isn’t the most eloquent promise, but he’d mostly kept it. Still - what kind of dreamboat would someone have to be to be willing to fuck you on your period? You’d dated enough people to know what how much of a rarity that is, to have a man so cool with menstruation he doesn’t care about having sex with you and you find it hard to believe Harry truly would be willing -

His arms are crossed over your body, forearms holding your heating pad to your abdomen, palms resting nearly absentmindedly against your boobs through your shirt. His lips lay lazy kisses against the back of your neck, so gentle you’re sure he isn’t even aware he’s doing it, fingers every so often flexing gently against your chest. His curls tickle your shoulders through your tank top, cardigan discarded on the coffee table in front of you, and a chill rolls through your body at the feeling.

He doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you - or maybe he does. You can’t decide which option you prefer.

Harry pauses, breathing gentle against your skin. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

Sometimes you forget how well he can read you. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

He hums, thumb moving in gentle circles against your boobs, grazing your nipple through the thin bra you’re wearing beneath your tank top, and you can practically hear the way his eyebrow quirks as you inhale softly. “Ah.”

“What?”

“You’re horny.”

You huff, and Harry drops his forehead against the back of your scalp with a low laugh. “Well, obviously - fingering my boobs like that - it’s the period hormones -”

“Period hormones.”

“Yes!” And you push yourself to sit up, glaring down at Harry lying beneath you, heating pad falling along with his arms to your lap, and his hands land on your thighs, palms smoothing up and down your skin. “Come on, you know I get horny on my period -”

“More than usual, you mean?”

“More than - I’m not the one who wakes up in the middle of the night with love boners!”

“Did that today, though, didn’t you?”

You, truly, don’t have any sort of response for that, mouth opening and closing a few times before you cross your arms over your chest, decidedly ignoring his smug smirk. “At least I have an excuse.”

He shrugs, drumming his fingertips up and down your thighs before raising one arm to slide beneath his head, tattooed arm gazing up at you and you want to - God, you want him to fucking rail you and you swallow thickly as his gaze never leaves yours, grin still toying at his lips. “So horny, an’ you won’t let m’fuck you.”

Heat burns at your face as you stare at him, eyebrows furrowing. Is he kidding? You can’t tell. He’s wearing that shit-eating smile that he dons when he’s fucking with you but you can’t see why he’d mention it again unless he was serious - it seems cruel. “Harry.”

“Yes?”

“You’re not serious.”

Harry shrugs, pushing himself onto his elbows, staring up at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “‘Course I’m serious.”

You reach down, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt covering his chest. “You don’t think it’s - gross? Come on, Har.”

“Do you think s’gross?” he asks, and you shrug, even if you really want to shake your head in a vehement no, glancing back up at him when he lifts his head closer to yours. “I don’t think it is -” and as he sees your doubtful, quirked eyebrow, he exhales a laugh. “M’serious! Remember when y’had the stomach bug, an’ I was cleaning up your puke an’ -”

“Okay,” you cut him off, reaching forward to place your index finger against his lips before he can finish reminding you of exactly what he’d had to clean up - he puckers his lips to land a light kiss against your digits. “But that’s different.”

But you can tell that he can tell that he’s wearing you down - “How’s it different, babe? M’fine gettin’ m’hands a little dirty.”

The expression makes you cringe and you drop your head back with a groan, rolling your eyes at Harry’s barking laugh as he reaches his hand up to rest against your waist, other hand pressed into your thigh. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins, dropping his head into your lap, and you instinctively smooth your nails against his scalp. “But m’serious. Can’t have you gettin’ yourself off by grinding - what kind of boyfriend would I be, hmm?”

A normal one, you want to reply, but the truth is you don’t think you’ll ever look twice at a normal man again if you seriously accept this. How could you go to a normal boyfriend knowing Harry is more than willing to bury himself inside of you, blood and all?

When your fingers abruptly stop scratching his scalp Harry lifts his head, pressing his cheek against your thigh, and you lower your eyes to his with your bottom lip tucked tight between your teeth.

“S’that a yes, then?” he questions, and he sounds so excited at the prospect that your stomach flips.

“A maybe,” and he doesn’t deflate at the half-rejection - you’ll come around, and the both of you know it. “We can - um - we can try it.” As a larger grin spreads across his face you playfully hit his cheek, feeling your own heating up. “In the shower tonight. So - you know - it’s less messy.”

 ~~~

 Harry runs off to start the shower nearly immediately after your late dinner while you begin loading dishes in the dishwasher, shaky hands holding tight onto each dirty plate so you don’t drop it. And you aren’t - nervous, per se, at least not as much as you’d expected yourself to be. Harry had hardly been able to keep his hands off of you all afternoon, palm resting firmly on your thigh during dinner and mouthing open mouthed kisses to your throat while you started your second and third movies of the day.

He wasn’t nervous - not at all. He seemed pretty damn excited, too, and that should make you less hesitant but your stomach still flips as you hear the shower turn on, followed by his footsteps padding down the stairs and the hallway until he emerges back in the kitchen, sweatpants low on his hips and shirt riding up his torso, and you swallow thickly as he leans against the doorway.

“Shower’s running,” he tells you as you shut the dishwasher, taking a step closer to him.

“I hear it.”

“Y’okay?”

You shrug, dragging your nails against his chest softly through his shirt, and Harry wraps his hands around your wrists with a raised eyebrow. “I’m fine,” you tell him, smiling lightly. “I’m nervous, but I’m -”

“Horny?”

“Yeah.”

Harry drops his forehead against the top of your head with a laugh, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you to him. “It’ll be fine,” he says against your hair, puckering your lips to land kiss after kiss to your head. “Anyway, don’t periods stop flowing in water?” You furrow your eyebrows. “No - what?”

“I saw tha’ online -”

“That’s not true!”

“Okay, okay!” Harry holds up his hands in surrender and you grin, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Well, m’lady, can I take you upstairs, then?”

Your stomach still rolls with nerves, even as he holds a hand out for you to grasp, and his palm is warmer than yours, skin soft and damp from the shower - “‘Course you can.”

 ~~~

 Harry’s fingers are expert at undoing the clasp of your bra, letting the cups fall away from your boobs and he lowers the straps down your shoulders, dragging his fingertips gently down your skin and smiling as goosebumps pop up over your skin. Your hands, in turn, travel downwards to the front of his sweatpants, pulling the tie until they come undone and the slightly-too-big pants droop down his hips until you slide your hands into the waistband and lower them all the way down into a pool by his ankles.

His shirt has long been discarded, thrown lazily on top of the toilet seat, and your tanktop and shorts have faced similar treatment, abandoned on the floor of your bedroom until you’re both just in your underwear - you’re both itching to be free of them, though, and just as Harry’s hands slide down your waist to the waistband of your panties you grab onto his boxers and tug them down, freeing his half-hard cock from their constraints.

Your hand wraps around his length like a vise, thumb swiping over his head and his hands falter, fingers tight on the hem of your panties, and his eyes drop shut with a low moan. You’re solely interested in feeling him harden in your grasp and your wish succeeds, feeling him throb against your fingers until he’s fully up, sliding his hands up to your breasts and rolling your nipples between his thumbs as some sort of punishment. Your lips part with a whine and you rest your head against his chest, inhaling shakily.

“Y’ready?” Harry questions, pinching your nipples lightly, and you arch your chest into his hands - he knows how sensitive your boobs get on your period and he never fails to take full advantage of your increased responses to his touch. “Panties off, baby.”

You pause, and then move your hands up to his chest, taking a step away from him. “Go in the shower,” you tell him, biting back a grin as he playfully rolls his eyes.

“Are y’serious?”

“Yes - go in the shower and - and close your eyes so I can - wash myself.”

Your cheeks heat up as Harry raises his eyebrows, clearly trying to see whether you’re being serious - after a moment with neither of you budging he sighs, trailing his fingertips down your hips before taking a step back, and you get just a moment to stare at his backside as he turns to step into the shower, sliding the door shut behind him until all you can see is his silhouette in the frosty glass.

You hook your fingers in the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your thighs as you can hear Harry humming in the shower - you kick them to the floor and gaze at yourself in the mirror, just for a moment, before reaching down to the unshaven apex of your thighs, hooking a finger in the string of your tampon and pulling it out with one fast yank. First day of your period and it’s mercifully bright red instead of the end of the period brown that you can’t stand to look at, and you open the trash can with your toes to drop the tampon in.

When you look back at yourself in the mirror briefly, you can already see red staining your inner thighs, and your cheeks flush but you don’t give yourself time to ponder on it for fear of backing out on the whole idea. You merely turn, sliding open the door to the shower and stepping inside, and Harry stands, hand pressed dramatically over his eyes as the water washes over him, and you press your hands to his shoulders, moving around him so you can be in the direct line of the water. The stream washes away the remnants of blood between your thighs, disappearing down the drain until you’re sure there’s nothing left, and you tap Harry on the shoulder.

“You can open,” you tell him, and the fingers clamped over his eyes separate so you can see just a band of green peeking between his digits.

“Can’t believe you’re this bothered over a spot f’blood,” Harry says, and before you can venomously retort by telling him that it’s much more than a spot of blood, and he should know, considering how often he has to go out and buy you tampons, he presses his hands to the side of your face, lowering his lips to yours in a clashing, deep kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth without a moment to spare.

You nearly slip, then, taking a slippery step back until your back is pressed to the shower wall, hand reaching behind you to grab onto the railing installed into the wall for this very purpose - it’s ideal to grab onto you when he’s railing you from behind, and the little alcove dug into the wall for toiletries is the ideal place to perch on while Harry goes to town between your legs -

Now, though, you simply loop your free arm around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours with a soft moan into his mouth as one of his hands leaves your face to trail down your body, palm cupping your boob and squeezing the soft flesh. It pulls another whine from your throat, pushing your chest into his hands and he grins against your lips, dragging his thumb across your peaked nipple. You get so caught up in the kiss and his hand on your boobs that you could nearly forget about the circumstances that led you to this specific scenario, fucking in the shower instead of the comfort of your own bed -

Until his hand cupping your breast moves farther down, fingers trailing through the sodden curls between your thighs before dipping between your folds, and you jolt, arm tightening around his neck and his head drops between your neck and shoulder. Your face burns as his fingertips circle your clit, pressing into the sensitive nub as you groan before he slides them back down your folds, pressing one gently into your hole until it slips in with an embarrassing amount of ease.

“Oh fuck -” you exhale, and Harry lifts his head slightly, suckling a hickey into the side of your neck as his finger pumps in and out of you, curling upwards to hit the spongy spot inside of you that has you pushing your hips into his hands. “Come on, Har, babe - just fuck me, really fuck me -”

“Wan’ me t’fuck you, don’t you?” he exhales into your skin, soaked curls dripping moisture onto your chest, and the warm water dripping down your skin has a chill rolling through your spine like a goddamn tidal wave. “Don’t want m’fingers, d’you?”

You do want his fingers, though - and his mouth - and his cock - and the need is so overwhelming it makes your legs feel shaky. For a moment you don’t know what to say, mouth parted in a silent plea for everything and anything he’s willing to give you and Harry simply stares, thrusting his finger in and out of you before adding another. 

Eventually his pauses, fingers twisted to graze the spot inside of you that makes your vision go hazy, and you know he needs you to speak but you can hardly think of anything to say. “Please -”

“Please wha’?”

“Please - I need to cum -”

He hums and lowers his lips back to yours, and you cry out directly into his mouth as his thumb rests against your clit, rubbing slow circles entirely too soft into the nub but even the slightest bit of stimulation has your hormone ridden body bucking up into him, squeezing onto the railing behind you for dear life so you don’t collapse with need. “Need t’cum?”

“Yes!”

“Do it then, baby - cum f’me, cum on m’fingers -”

You roll your hips against his fingers, dropping your head back against the wall of the shower with a whine, and Harry continues his steady face penetrating you with his fingers - normally you’d never cum this fast, hardly five minutes with his fingers in your cunt but this isn’t a normal situation by any standards, and you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed over how close you are.

Harry’s teeth close on your bottom lip, nibbling on the skin gently and you’re nearly crossing your eyes to maintain eye contact with him - you know how much he loves watching when you come undone - and all it takes is one more measly pump of his fingers into your dripping pussy for you to topple over the edge. Your body trembles beneath him as his fingers still, your eyes rolling back into your scalp as you shake in his arms, cunt fluttering weakly around his fingers. His breathing is heavy in your ears, low and raspy as you whimper violently with your orgasm wrapping around you like a fucking vise and when your vision finally clears up he’s staring at you like you’re a piece in the damn Museum of Modern Art.

“Fuck, Har, felt so good,” you exhale, and Harry reaches down, one of his forearms going beneath your thighs to lift up, and you look down just as he pulls his fingers out of you. The blood on his digits is immediately washed away by the stream of water but you still cringe watching the water turn red as it disappears into the drain, and you can tell he notices your sudden shyness - fingers grasp your chin, angling your head up to stare at him. “What -?”

His lips press to yours once more, a soft, lingering kiss that doesn’t go anywhere at all, before he pulls away, hands sliding up and down your hips. “I guess eating your cunt s’out f’the picture, then …?”

You roll your eyes with a giggle as he drops your leg again, nails digging crescents into your hips as he turns you around, hips pressed flush to yours and his chest to your back, and you instinctively hold tighter onto the railing. “For now,” you groan in response as he thrusts his hips against yours, cock sliding against the sensitive folds of your cunt, and you can practically feel the way he perks up at your half-rejection. “Just fuck me, Har - please, missed it so much -”

Harry laughs at that - a dry one, void of humor, and you whine, pushing your ass back against him before he indulges you, grip landing on your hips and pulling your ass tight against his cock. “S’only been one day without my cock,” he breathes, one hand leaving your hips, presumably to line his dick up as you feel his tip poking at your folds, and you drop your forehead against the shower wall with a whine. “Look how needy you are.”

You are needy, rocking your hips against the tip of his cock that he drags through your folds, and you can’t bring yourself to care about it one bit. “Please -”

“Tell me.”

“Harry -”

“Tell me.”

You groan as he pulls the tip out, and his length smacks against your ass once and even if it’s gentle it still makes you thrust your hips back towards him, and his arm on your hips tightens until you can’t move at all. “I’m - I need you so bad, Har - need you to fuck me - fuck me like you -”

Your sentence is cut off with a loud, drawn out cry as Harry pushes himself into you, cock filling you to the brim and your mouth opens and closes uselessly before he pulls out and thrusts back in with a loud groan, water droplets flicking onto your skin as you hold tight onto the railing. Your knees feel weak as Harry fucks into you, his hands holding tight onto your hips and surely leaving bruises on your skin, but you can’t possibly bring yourself to complain as you drop your head forward with a sob.

“Fuck, Har!” you moan, pushing your hips back against his as he pumps into you, his groans nearly overpowering the slap of skin against skin but you can still hear it like music to your ears, and you gnaw on your bottom lip to try and silence some of your desperate cries. “Please, please -”

“Oh, god,” Harry grunts, holding your hips tighter to his as his pace increases, hips slamming into yours as though he hadn’t fucked you for weeks instead of one measly day. Quarantine truly had spoiled both of you - days spent without fucking each other all over the house seemed to be days wasted, aren’t they? And the week per month you’d had to spend without having sex during your period was a miserable one, and an era you’re more than glad to see gone - “fuck, baby, so - so tight, ‘round m’cock, squeezin’ me so tight.”

Your hand slips on the railing and for a second you fear you’ll fall - but then Harry’s arms slide upwards, forearms wrapped tight against your stomach as he leans forward, chest pressed to your back as his hips slam into yours over and over, lips pressing biting kisses into the wet skin of your neck. You can feel rather than hear his moans, their vibrations reverberating through your skin and you reach behind your head, dragging your nails through his hair as he leaves bites down your skin.

You can already feel your release building, pressure rising in your stomach as your cunt clenches and unclenches around him, gasping for air in the shower, humid from the hot water and your body heat. You’re sure all you need is his fingers, just circling your clit one time and you’ll snap, cumming so hard you’re sure you’ll see stars, so hard you won’t be able to hold yourself up -

“Play w’your clit, baby,” Harry breathes, so quiet you nearly can’t hear it, and you inhale shakily as you oblige, letting go of the railing with one hand to trail down your wet stomach until you reach your sensitive clit, and it throbs against your fingers. “Yeah, good girl - give it a pinch f’me, baby, make yourself cum on m’cock -”

Shaky fingers circle your clit and then press down before pinching it like he’d instructed, and your back arches into his chest, feeling his peaked nipples dragging across your skin. His body blocks most of the water’s stream onto you but you can still feel droplets soaking your skin, trailing down and meeting your fingers at your clit and it only adds to the pleasure mounting, spreading from your clit throughout your entire body -

“Fuck!”

Your knees finally give out as you sob out, squeezing your eyes shut as you hit your breaking point for the second time - your body shakes desperately, tilting your head to the side with a cry as Harry lunges forward to attach his lips to yours, every whine going directly into his mouth. His arm around your waist is the only thing holding you up but you can tell he’s close, thrusts losing their steady pace and growing jerkier, and as your cunt flutters around him you can feel his cock throbbing -

“God,” Harry moans, and you can hear his voice growing higher in pitch, and it’s a telltale sign that he’s so fucking close you’re sure he can feel it on the tip of his fingers - “clench around me, baby, come on -”

And you oblige, cunt tightening around him as you rest your forehead against the railing, and it only takes a few more jerky thrusts before he grabs hold of your hips, bringing them tight to his. The sensation of being filled with his cum is one you’ve grown so used to but it never fails to make you moan, tilting your head to the side so you can get a glimpse of his face in your peripheral vision as his eyes shut, lips parted as he groans, and hot ribbons of cum fill your cunt as he releases.

Your breathing is shaky when Harry grabs your hands, tugging you around so you’re facing him, and you glance down at the floor of the shower, watching the water beneath you tint itself red with your blood. You expect a rush of embarrassment to wash over you as he glances down to see what you’re looking at but it never comes - you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed when you’re so relaxed, finally satisfied, watching his cum drip down your thighs.

Harry turns to shut off the shower, the stream of water abruptly stopping, and you cross your arms over your chest, trying to preserve the humid air sure to escape as soon as he opens the door. But he doesn’t - not yet, at least - his hands, instead, coming down to land on your upper arms, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin as he stares down at you.

“How was tha’?” your boyfriend questions, voice soft and sentimental and you can’t help yourself from pushing yourself onto your toes to land a kiss to the side of his cheek. “Not as bad as y’thought, was it.”

It’s not a question - he knows the answer already. “It was amazing,” you confess truthfully, reaching up to move his wet curls out of his face, and a smile tilts your lips upward as he grins. “Not bad at all.”

“Not bad at all,” he echoes, and you can tell he’s resisting the urge to say I told you so or something of the sort, but you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to - he was right. Knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes, and it should scare you but it just makes you love him more than you thought you could. “An’ next time, we can do it on the bed.”

“On the -?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #one direction writing #harry styles drabble #so unedited but when do i edit anything i write

[autie-hobbit]

Tips on How to Write Heightened Senses - By Someone with Sensory Processing Disorder

As “The Bad Batch” has become a special interest over the last couple of months, I have started reading “Bad Batch” fanfiction. One issue I have found throughout a lot of these fanfics is that they write Hunter’s enhanced senses as just that, without much complexity to it. Though my senses aren’t as heightened as Hunter’s, obviously, but they are well above average, so I thought I’d write a little guide about how heightened senses can affect our body and mind to help.

Having no sensory input can be just as bad as having too much. Especially considering the fact that our senses are constantly being hounded by sensory input, when we suddenly have none, our bodies freak out. This can lead to anxiety attacks and meltdowns.

A lot of people with heightened senses are hypo-sensitive to pain, though this can depend on the person and the type of pain. I hypothesise that this is because often the discomfort caused by the senses is much greater than pain, but I’m not entirely sure if this is true. Pain that causes discomfort can be debilitating, like headaches, when a limb has pins and needles, and cramping. Pain like cuts and bruises often don’t feel painful.

Some senses are more heightened than others. Though this probably isn’t the case with Hunter, as his senses are an artificial mutation, this is the case with people with SPD. Which senses are more heightened than others will entirely depend on the person, but the most common one is sound.

Stimming Stimming Stimming. People with heightened senses stim, a lot. This is because stimming helps regulate one’s senses. Whether we’re getting too little or too much sensory input, stimming helps achieve that balance.

A lot of people with heightened senses also have heightened emotions. Though this could also depend on the person. Our physical senses and our emotions are intertwined and directly affect each other. This can also lead to hyper-empathy.

The senses affect how much input the other senses are taking in. Having little to no input in one of the senses can lead to the other senses picking up more input. For example, I can hear a lot better in the dark.

Things that annoy the senses are often more debilitating than those that are intense. For example, the ticking of a clock is more likely to send me into a sensory overload than loud noises are. 

Texture is everything! Especially when it comes to food. It doesn’t matter how good it tastes, if it has a Wrong texture it can cause the person with heightened senses eating it to vomit. Wrong textures will depend on the person and vary.

Most people with heightened senses are usually used to the fact that their senses are heightened. Though we do experience everything more intensely than the general population, it has always been like that for us. Everyday sensory things don't generally bother us, and if they do, we're usually used to it anyway and just ignore it. Our senses don't generally act up unless something is more or less intense than usual, or if it's one of the Bad Sensory Things. For example, unless it's too hot or quiet, my senses don't usually affect how I sleep.

These are from my own experience with sensory processing disorder, and could be different for other people, but from what I’ve seen from what other people with SPD have said, they’re pretty common. Though all of these could greatly depend on the person in question, and could also be affected by my Autism. I hope that this was helpful. Feel free to add more :)

Edit: I added a point.

#the bad batch #tbb #sensory processing disorder #writing tips #tbb hunter #star wars #writing advice #fanfiction #mental disorders #long post #nat's posting

[lunaekalenda]

Hi~ I came to say I love your blog and your HC QwQ if you’re still taking requests. Can I ask for a HC of how some of the SNK guys (specially Reiner) behave when their s/o is on their period? Because this is the times when I feel the most body pain T-T

hi hi!! omg thank you so much, this makes me really happy 🥺😭 i'm so happy to read you like my blog 🤩 and yep i'm taking requests! and wow that one is nice, we on pain (T ^ T). i hope you like it!

❁ shingeki characters!

❁ reiner, eren, armin, jean, connie, porco, levi.

reiner:

- he’s so worried.

- literally he’s trembling because your body hurts to the point you need to cry

- “sweetie are you okay? do you want something?”

- you’re literally dying inside but managed to smile at him.

- “i’m fine, i need just a little bit of heat on my back, please”

- you were asking for a hot towel or something, but reiner put both of his hands on your back, rubbing it.

- his hands are always so hot.

- “does this help?” you nod.

- his hands rubbing your lower back felt so good you just wanted to stay like that forever.

- he always goes to the shop and buys pads for you, but you have to be really specific with the name cause reiner is afraid to fail and buy you some that are uncomfortable for you.

- “this ones? the girl of the market told me there is a new model but i thought maybe you don’t like it or something so i bought what you’ve asked for.”

- he usually helps with the domestic tasks everyday, but when you’re on your period, he doesn’t want you to move.

- “what do you want to eat?”

- “but i can cook...”

- “just stay there, maybe if you stand for a long time it will hurt more”

eren:

- he doesn’t know what’s going on the 90% of the time, but he tries his best to help you.

- he buys you pads but he got the wrong ones most of the times.

- he calls you while being in front of the menstrual pad shelf in the supermarket.

- “honey there are at least a hundred types of pads, what am i supposed to buy?”

- "just take normal ones with wings"

- he ended buying four different types for you to decide wich one you're using and giving the rest to your friends.

- "just choose the one that feels better and give the rest to mikasa or historia"

- he's so bad at care but you still appreciate his effort

- "should i prepare you a bath?"

- "please"

- he washes your hair while you're bathing and helps you to not die of cold.

- and he puts his hand on your breast while you sleep because he knows it hurts, and that way hurts less, being warm and held.

- he also lets you sleep half of the day without waking you up.

armin:

- he reads about every symptom you have.

- back pain? uterine contractions

- stomach ache? abdominal cramps

- desire to cry? hormonal imbalance

- he knows what happens to your body and knows how to take care of it.

- “i read that you should do some yoga positions to ease the pain.”

- you didn’t want to because it really hurts, but once he helped you, you felt better.

- he makes you eat healthy things because he knows chocolate will only make you feel worst.

- “i know you want to have pizza, but you need things with iron to avoid anemia”

- your periods were more bearable since you two started dating.

jean:

- cuddles cuddles cuddles

- he knows is physical pain, but he also wants to comfort you mentally because he knows that your period is also mental pain.

- “babe, i prepared you a cinnamon infusion, i’ve read that they help a lot.”

- right after giving you the infusion, he will wrap you in blankets and hug you a lot.

- “do you want to sleep? watch a film? go for a walk? just tell me.”

- he talks to you a lot to distract you from pain.

- he also hugs you every time you start crying from pain, massaging your belly, trying to make it hurt less.

- you cling to him while he kisses your hair.

- “i want to rip my uterus”

- “please wait until we have a baby”

- he likes to kiss you a lot, like even more than on normal days, to remember you that you have him by your side.

- and you’re really thankful for him.

- “if i could exchange myself for you, i would suffer them”

- that’s so sweet of him but he will probably die of pain.

connie:

- he tries to make you laugh but laughing feels like niagara falls down there.

- it's so uncomfortable you tell him to please stop.

- "sorry, sorry, i thought laugh would help you."

- he sits with you and watches your favorite series, even when he doesn't like them.

- he keeps kidding in any way, because is the only way he masters to make you feel better.

- "should i call sasha? she also has her period so you two maybe know what to do"

- you shake your head because you want to spend your clingy quality time with him.

- "wow i read on google that girls period syncronizates when two girls live togheter, like icloud sync?"

- "connie please my belly hurts if i laugh"

- "it was a serious ask!"

porco:

- he's sad because you're off that week.

- he wants to treasure you and hug you a lot.

- he's also soft on your period days.

- he treats you like a princess those days.

- and well, the rest of them too

- he also says that if you have high sexual desire he has 0 problem with doing it

- but in anyway he cares a lot for you.

- and he is always asking you what do you need.

- "a glass of water? a yogurt? ice cream? hot chocolate? cuddles? kisses? need me to leave?"

- "if you sit with me it would be nice"

- he's your personal desire maker, he does everything you want him to do.

- he also waits awake until you're able to sleep, and then he checks on you everytime you move or make a sound.

- "are you awake?" he usually whispers. when he has no answer, he continues sleeping.

- he wakes you up with a lot of kisses.

levi:

- he doesn’t care to wash your dirty clothes.

- he also prepares you hot drinks

- he pats your head everytim you tell him you're feeling worse

- he brushes your hair because he knows you love it.

- "your hair is so beautiful..."

- he prepares you bubble baths and gives you massages with lavender oil.

- he insists in buying pads together so if he needs to buy them alone, he will know which ones buy

- and he's the one that has control of your period to help you when it starts.

- he really worries when you got bad periods, when your head hurts and you can't eat.

- he rubs your stomach every time you ask him to.

- "is this cool? less pressure?"

- "no, it's on point..."

- he sleeps being the big spoon when you two usually sleep face to face, but his warm body against your back helps you with the pain.

- his arms are also heating up your belly.

- "are you feeling better?" he asks silently, but he only answer he gets is your quite breath back.

#eren jaeger #eren x reader #armin arlert #armin x reader #reiner braun #reiner x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #connie springer #connie x reader #conny springer #conny x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #porco galliard #porco x reader #snk x reader #snk fluff #snk headcanons #snk fic #snk fanfiction #snk scenario #snk x you #snk #snk levi #snk eren #snk jean #aot x reader #aot fluff

[saradika]

Hi, I hope you’re doing well. I was just wondering how do you think the Bad Batch deals with periods and sex? I feel like a couple of them would avoid sex for that time and then the rest of them wouldn’t care.

Oo thank you for this, anon! I hope you’re doing well, too! 💕 I appreciate you sending this in, and I’m so happy you liked my headcanons!

I HC that the clones are well-educated about reproduction, and that since they’re all been through a lot during their life, that they would have no issues with intimacy during menstruation.

The Bad Batch - NSFW Headcanons/Drabbles

The Bad Batch x AFAB!Reader

Rated E, 597 words

Tags: mentions of periods, lots of fluff, feelings, mentions of period sex/PiV/Oral/Fingering

Hunter x AFAB!Reader

Hunter knows when your period is starting almost before you do. He is familiar with your cycle, how many days are between them. He anticipates your needs, having a stash of chocolate already hidden away, your preferred supplies already stocked up. He molds his body to yours as you rest, dragging his fingers up and down your arm or massaging your back when it aches, the perfect comfort before you sleep.

He is not squeamish about getting intimate with you, but he does have a tendency to worry a bit. Hunter gets protective when you’re not feeling like yourself, which causes him to hold back a little bit when you’re having sex. You probably aren’t going to get pounded into the mattress, but he will make you cum again and again until your limbs are weak. And then afterwards, he’ll take his time cleaning you up and getting you comfortable in the bunk, snuggled up next to him.

Tech x AFAB!Reader

If you are thinking about blockers or an implant, Tech is already researching for you. He is making a list of pros and cons, which ones might work best for your lifestyle. If it’s supplies, he has a list complied of the best brands for you. Of course every decision is up to you - but you won’t need to lift a finger to make it.

Tech is practical, and is more than happy to help you relieve your pain through orgasms. He treats those encounters like any others, not wanting to make you feel insecure. Though he would never be embarrassed in the first place (or want you to feel that way) - there is nothing wrong with perfectly normal bodily functions.

Wrecker x AFAB!Reader

Wrecker is your emotional support. He’s not as in-tune as Hunter, but he’s definitely the one slipping out to town when you mention having cramps, picking up your favorite snacks (and any supplies you may be running low on). He’s the one setting up your favorite holo-vid with a pint of your favorite blue milk ice cream. You feel comforted when you snuggle in next to his bulk, and his heavy hand resting on your abdomen is just as soothing as you imagined.

There are a couple big things in Wrecker’s favor, regarding intimacy. One, nothing makes him happier than making you feel good, and two - he doesn’t mind a mess. Wrecker also enjoys the days in your cycle when you’re more aroused that usual. He will have you cumming on his fingers, his cock, his mouth - anything your heart desires - all night.

Echo x AFAB!Reader

Echo understands physical discomfort. He’s the one that curls next to you in your bunk, his head propped up on his arm as he sets up his heating pad for you. He knows how to dim the lights, how to make the perfect nest to just ride out the pain. He’s a good listener and a good conversationalist, if you’re feeling up for it. If you just want to nap, he’s down for that, too.

When it comes to getting intimate, Echo could not care less. He’s been through a lot, and there’s not much that phases him anymore. The first time you bring it up (“Hey Echo, sorry - I think we should wait?”) he just answers with polite confusion. When you explain, he smiles. “Oh mesh’la, do you think a little blood is going to scare me off?” If you’re comfortable (and he’ll confirm that you are being going any further) Echo will make sure you cum multiple times before the night is over.

#the bad batch headcanons #sergeant hunter x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader #afab!reader #the bad batch

[pascalpanic]

so i read this scenario on reddit and i thought it would be a cute and fluffy fic idea if you want to write it :)

one of the Pedro boys (i was thinking frankie or marcus moreno but you can put any one of them that you feel like would fit the story) lands himself in the hospital and the reader visits him often cause they’re friends. they notice that every time they visit, his heart rate monitor speeds up, like not enough to cause alarm but enough to be noticeable, and that’s how she finds out that he likes her and they decide to date (after he gets out of hospital)

Appendicitis (Frankie Morales x f!reader)

Summary: ^^

W/C: 2.4K

Warnings: talk of being ill, vomit, pain, lots of talk of hospitals and that being a major setting, Frankie is a dad, language

A/N: welcome back to Josie’s quest to clean her inbox! This idea was so precious!! I hope you guys like it!!

Frankie is in fucking agony. Never has he felt something as painful as this, never has such pain radiated through his body so intensely that he has no choice but to vomit out his stomach’s contents.

He spends the day at home, occupying his daughter as best he can while he’s in such suffering. He figures that maybe it’s just really bad gas cramping or constipation. Marisol plays quietly, at her daddy’s request, watching her favorite Disney movies on the couch while nuzzled into his side. Frankie has never been so grateful to get her into bed at the end of the day.

After a full day of the pain, and realizing that it wasn’t going away no matter how many painkillers he took, Frankie gave in around midnight. Lying in his bed, skin turning gray and the pain now decisively in his right side, Frankie called you.

After a few rings, you picked up. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hi.” His voice sounds agonized. “How much do you charge for babysitting again?” He asks, the strain clear.

You’re confused, pushing the phone closer to your ear and thinking it might be the distance that makes him sound so odd. “Uh, you’re my friend, so free. You need me to take Mari?” You ask him.

He nods. “Yeah; how much for like a week though? I don’t want to impose though, and-“

His voice sounds terrible. “Frankie. Shut up. A week? What’s wrong? I can take Marisol for as long as you need, but I gotta know what’s going on.”

Frankie is quiet before he grunts softly in pain. “I think my appendix might be fucked up. It hurts like fucking hell. Mari’s asleep, I don’t wanna wake her or anything, but could you-“

You cut him off once more, sitting bolt upright. “I’m on my way over. Do you think you can hang on until I get there? I can drive you to the hospital, or we’ll get one of the boys.”

“That sounds good,” Frankie agrees. “Fuckin’ ambulances are so expensive.”

You chuckle softly. “Hang in there, Fish, okay? I’m gonna call Will, see if he can drive you and I’ll stay with Mari. How’s that?”

Marisol loves you. There’s no better solution in Frankie’s eyes: she behaves better for you than she does for him. She’ll be in good hands, happy for as long as he needs to be in the hospital healing. “Perfect. God, you’re a fucking angel. Don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve better than me,” you snort as you pull on a hoodie and slip on some shoes. “I’m gonna call Will. You got this, Fish. Distract yourself. I’ll send you updates.”

When you arrive at the Morales household, Will’s truck is already in the driveway. He lives closer, so it makes sense. Be quiet and don’t wake Mari, you remember as you slip off your shoes and head up the stairs of Frankie’s home. It’s quiet, unsurprising for this time of night, and you know Mari is a light sleeper. Frankie would never want to wake her at this hour.

Wandering into his room, you find Will standing next to the bed and an incredibly worn-looking Frankie. His skin holds barely any color, his face almost green in nausea. You rush to his side. “Frankie, holy shit,” you exclaim in a loud whisper, taking his hand. “You’re okay?”

“I will be if Miller mans up and gets me out of this bed,” he says, followed by a chuckle with no humor.

Will sighs. He’s wearing pajamas too, looking as exhausted as you are. Frankie groans as he hears Mari’s tiny voice over the baby monitor. “Fuck. You’re staying with her, Will’s bringing me?” He clarifies, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes.

Nodding, you squeeze his hand. “Give me directions quickly and I’ll go get her. You gotta sit up first, Frankie,” you reassure him.

He squeezes your hand back tight and sits up, his face contorting in pain. There’s a flush of redness to his cheeks, and it makes him look more human for a moment until it fades again. “She won’t fall back asleep unless she’s in this bed with you. She needs the attention. Uh, food is in the fridge, you know emergency shit,” he says, with surprising coherence for the pain he’s in.

You nod and ruffle Frankie’s soft bedhead. “Benny- fuck,” you wince, knowing the Miller brothers hate being mixed up. Somehow, even with their distinct personalities, you do it all the time. “Will. Send me updates,” you remind him as you stand. “And you, Francisco,” you murmur and press a kiss to his sweat-beaded forehead, “get some strong pain meds and get better for me and Mari.” You smile softly and walk out of the room.

The room next to Frankie’s is beautiful, a sage green paint and lots of woodland creatures painted on the walls by Frankie’s surprisingly artistic hands. There’s a crib covered by a creamy white canopy and the little girl pokes her head up, tilting to the side in confusion as she sees you.

It’s not fear, of course. Mari loves you, absolutely adores you in fact. She’s just… confused. Her little brain can tell it’s the middle of the night. “Where’s Daddy?” She asks, making uppy arms at you.

You walk over to her crib, picking her up and kissing her head. “Daddy’s got a tummyache, cutie,” you tell her and tickle her tummy gently, making her giggle and bury her tiny face in your chest. “He’s gonna go see the doctor and get it all fixed up, okay? You and I are gonna have so much fun,” you assure her, and she giggles again.

You can hear two sets of feet, slowly moving. “Let’s go give Daddy a kiss goodbye, okay?” Mari nods and rubs her little eyes.

Frankie’s got an arm around Will’s shoulders in the hall, looking absolutely agonized. He smiles a little as he sees you and his baby. “Hey, patita,” he chuckles. He dubbed her duckling from the soft tufts of fluff on her head as a baby. “Be good while I’m gone.”

Mari nods and puts a hand on either side of Frankie’s sweating face, making a little pout and giving him a kiss. “Love you, Daddy,” she says, a yawn overtaking her tiny face.

“Love you too,” he nods and looks up at you. “I owe you.”

“Friends don’t owe each other,” you shake your head. “Now get your a… butt to the hospital, Morales,” you tell him and pat Will on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

He nods at you and the two men shuffle along through the house until they can get Frankie into the car and on his way to (hopefully) sedation and a cure.

Yawning again, Mari’s big brown eyes look up at you from where you hold her on your hip. “Snack?” She asks you, pointing towards the kitchen.

Her little voice and tiny, pudgy fingers are too much. “I suppose. Only because we’re having special girls’ time,” you tease and boop her nose. Setting her on the counter, you grab some cubes of cheese and some berries, which you make sure are in small pieces.

Mari’s content to eat her snacks with you, and you can see her growing sleepier again as the plate empties out. “Sleepy?” You ask her, and she nods. “Alright, cutie pie,” you sigh and lift her, holding her to your chest as she wraps her arms around your neck and her legs around your torso. “Do you want me to cuddle with you?” You ask.

She nods. “Gotta snuggle for late sleepies. Daddy says that.”

The words melt your heart. Frankie’s always been so good with her, so warm and skilled and precious. It only makes your crush on the man grow every time his little girl babbles about how much she loves her daddy. “Does he?”

She nods. “Daddy sings for me.”

Frankie singing Marisol to sleep. The idea melts your heart. You need in on that. “What does he sing to you?” You ask. “What’s your favorite song that daddy sings to you?”

She thinks for a moment as you sit on the edge of the bed, allowing her to clamber off your lap and into the cozy king-sized bed. “Rocket Man.” It’s hard to decipher in her baby-talk, but you get it.

“He sings that for you?” You ask as you get under the covers, into the blankets that are still warm from Frankie’s body heat, that smell like his cologne.

Mari snuggles into your chest, and nods softly. “Can you sing Rocket Man?”

“Of course,” you nod and trace little circles into the toddler’s back, singing the Elton John song to her in a soft voice. It doesn’t take long, now that she’s in her daddy’s bed and got a snack, for her to fall asleep. She snores softly, and you follow suit not too long after.

-

It did turn out that Frankie had appendicitis. The doctors weren’t entirely sure what caused it, but you and the Miller brothers rotated your time with Marisol at home and the hospital with Frankie, as his stay was painfully long for such an active man. Santiago video chatted often, but being out of town prevented him from physically seeing Fish.

It took him about a week to recover, and that time was mostly spent napping or watching the television in his room. He’d bullshit with the guys or you when you were around, and he especially loved the time of the afternoon every day where one of you brought Marisol to see him.

Usually it was just you or one of the Millers who stayed in the room with him. The other two either stayed with Marisol or got to stay at home and rest for themselves. It was a lucky day when you and Benny got to both be with Frankie for a while, telling stories and laughing. It was your turn to be off-duty, but all you wanted from your free time was to be with the man.

Your presence has always made Frankie’s heart rate a little faster. It’s always made his palms a little clammy, and his pants a little tighter sometimes. At least now he can attribute it to the pain.

Every time his eyes catch yours, his heart monitor gets a little louder. It’s odd, but you shrug it off. It can’t mean anything. It’s just your Frankie. After an hour or so of spending time with the guys, you run to get fast food for the three of you. While you’re away, you receive a text from Benny.

Benny Boy: you’re fucking with his head, bro

You: what?

Benny Boy: the heart rate monitor is nearly silent right now. every time frankie looks at you it spikes, don’t tell me you haven’t been noticing that

You: do you want nuggets or a burger?

You: thats ridiculous, Benny.

Benny Boy: always nuggets. but seriously, his heart rate is at like 54 right now, he’s just chilling and kind of dozed off. let’s check it when you come back.

You: be prepared for the most boring science experiment ever. also, what dip do you want?

After you receive your bulging bags of food, stuffed from both Benny’s and Frankie’s massive appetites, you return to the hospital.

You: walking in. pulse status?

Benny: 60. he’s a little more awake now.

As you enter the room, Frankie turns to you and grins. “Hey. What did you get?” He asks.

You plop the bags on the small table overhanging Frankie’s bed and grin. “Just your usual order. I know what you like,” you shrug as you unpack the food.

Beep beep beep beep. HR: 77

Smiling at the rate of Frankie’s heart, more than you should really, you sit down back next to Benny and the three of you eat your food. It’s somewhat quiet, the chatter dying as you devour the fast food, savoring the grease and salt.

After everyone is finished, you stand and clean up the garbage, tossing it all away. You sit back down on Frankie’s bedside. “So, macho man. How’s the pain?” You ask, your fingers tracing his good side.

Beep beep beep beep beep. HR: 86

He shrugs. “It hurts like a bitch, and they said it’s gonna keep hurting like a bitch.”

“Poor baby,” you chuckle, cupping the side of his face and kissing his forehead softly.

Beep beep beep beep beep beep. HR: 96

Benny groans and stands. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom.” He smacks your arm as he walks past, as if rubbing in the evidence he’s found. “And then take a walk, I think.”

You’re still seated at Frankie’s side, on the inflatable hospital mattress. “Oh Benjamin,” Frankie rolls his eyes. “Why’d he leave so quick?”

You shrug, though you know the answer. “Who knows? Benny can’t even predict himself,” you chuckle. Frankie’s hand rests over his chest. You slide your hand over his torso and lace your fingers through his until you’re holding it. You can feel his heart thumping steadily against it. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Beep beep beep beep. HR: 104

He smiles. “I’m lucky I have you.”

You sigh softly as you look up at the heart rate monitor again. “I gotta say, you have a really high resting rate,” you say nonchalantly, as if you believe it.

Frankie’s face warms. “I, uh-“

“I’m kidding, Frankie,” you mumble softly to him, smiling a little. “I really like you, and I think that monitor is helping me know you like me too. When you get out of here, can we maybe go on a date some time?”

Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep. HR: 112

Nodding enthusiastically, those floppy curls move with his head. “I would love that,” he tells you with a beaming smile. “God, have you been able to tell all day?” He asks as he looks up at the monitor, his ears burning with heat as he reads the pulse rate. It’s embarrassingly high.

“Yeah,” you finally admit and smile down at him. “But it’s cute. And it makes me feel all warm inside because I finally know you like me too.”

Big brown eyes stare up at you with all of the love in the world. “If I wasn’t wearing a hospital gown, I’d kiss you right now,” he promises. “But that’ll have to wait.”

“Yes it will,” you nod and kiss his forehead again, easing him back against the mattress he’d lifted up from slightly. “Now I’m going to go find Benny, and you slow down that heart rate,” you tease and ruffle his curls.

“I’m not gonna be able to slow it down with you around,” he says with a soft smile, his eyes slipping shut.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #benny miller #will miller #will ironhead miller

[mandana-the-service-pup]

TLDR // I made this a long post for my records. I tried to keep it interesting. Mandana was great. She sniffed some people a little but did amazing alerts. The doctor was useful and will help manage the remaining prescriptions. I was diagnosed with mild scoliosis (mostly likely caused by my EDS) but it doesn’t change anything.

Mandana’s first doctors appointment was a huge success!

She was a bit excited when we got to the hospital, but she went potty on command, maintained a good heel and her general behavior was acceptable. I didn’t expect too much from her because she hasn’t advanced to appointments in the curriculum yet but in my opinion she totally knocked it out of the park.

The hospital building was old, so all of the rooms were very cramped. This made it impossible to keep people at a manageable distance. I tried not to be too hard on her when she wanted to give a little wag & sniff to people approaching us. It’s been months since we’ve done public access training and this was her first time visiting a hospital or attending an appointment. Expecting her to completely ignore someone who was physically brushing up against us would have been unfair.

I did try to manage her behavior as much as possible. I made it clear to the people involved that she was still in training and she’s still learning how to ignore people, but in my mind all I could think was how grateful I was for having an awesome service dog prospect. I was throwing her into a situation she was definitely not prepared for & the only mistake she made was being too quick to make friends with people. She was setup to fail and fail she did, but she did it gracefully 🥺

Her alerts were spectacular!

Besides those little stolen moments, her performance was better than expected. She was eager to do any position change or behavior I asked of her. She relaxed on her mat in the waiting room for nearly 50 minutes and held her position when I had to go to the counter several times for paperwork. She alerted to the first spike (159 bpm) when I was standing in line waiting for instructions. The second alert was done ten minutes later when my heart rate started to rise again even though I was sitting down (148 bpm). Twenty minutes later she indicated a more serious alert. My heart rate had plummeted and it was about to shoot up again with a 100 bpm difference. Those kinds of drastic changes are usually what make me the most symptomatic, so I tried to prepare myself. Just moments after the alert, they nurse called my name and had me walk to the back for vitals. I informed them about the episode I was experiencing and sure enough my blood pressure was 146/90.

That room was HECTIC!

When I told the nurse I was experiencing a medical episode I was hoping they would be able to take steps to help me mitigate it. Of course that did not happen, so all I could do was push through the best I could. I was assigned to an exceptionally tiny room with a very small desk, several chairs and an exam table. That left only enough standing room for one person at a time (unless the door was open in which case, good luck).

I don’t know if it comes across in pictures, but Mandana is a BIG girl. Like yes, she’s a bit on the chubby side for a working Malinois, but she was also the third biggest puppy in a litter of 12, outweighed only by her two massive brothers. The last time I measured her (which I admit was hard for me to do accurately) she was 26” at the shoulder. She is currently overweight but even at her ideal working weight she would still be about 70lbs. I knew I was going to need a large dog if I needed bracing, so I was looking for lines that had more substantial builds, but tbh I’m a small handler so it’s kind of overkill 😅

So there I was trying to fit a pony in a sock drawer with my blood pressure and heart rate maxing out my personal records. To complicate things further, the nurse informed me that she too had been diagnosed with POTS! My first thought was, “That’s great! You must know how to help me manage this situation!” Oh boy was I wrong. She didn’t sound like a seasoned spoonie and the look on her face when she realized she was meeting a Potsie IRL for the first time was pure disbelief. We had a chaotic & moving conversation. I could go into further details about what we talked about and how this disease affected her, but the people who’ve lived it already know what I would say & the people who haven’t could never understand. She was not able to help because she also needed help. I’ll leave it at that.

I tried my best to make sense of everything and that bewilderment seemed to rub off on Mandana. After waiting patiently for nearly an hour she had been quickly led into a maze of a rooms that smelled like a hundred people & cued to crawl under a desk. Then two girls sat in front of her, blocking her in. Both of which smelled like medical alerts. I tried to convince her to just lay down and relax but I was simultaneously trying to get my vitals taken & maintain a bizarre conversation. Properly managing the situation was hopeless so I just did the best I could while Mandana snorted this girls pants leg and bonked her head on the table. After she left Mandana was able to settle.

The Rheumatologist was ok.

It’s always difficult to establish care with a new doctor, but it didn’t help I was having a medical episode and managing a SDiT at the same time. Despite having everything memorized and written down, it took longer than was comfortable for either of us to patch together a medical history. At one point I hit a well-known road block. Does this girl have a real diagnosis or is she doing this for attention? I simply name-dropped my specialist & a quick search for her qualifications was enough to smooth things over and immediately get the prescriptions I needed. It was such a Girl Boss moment on behalf of my specialist 😜

At the end of the appointment he did a casual physical exam (Zebras know the drill 🙄) and randomly mentioned that I have scoliosis. I’ve suspected some degree of scoliosis since I was a teenager but I passed every annual exam for it at my school & no chiropractor or doctor ever brought it up (with the exception of an X-ray tech who made a passing comment about my rib cage being uneven, but that kind of stuff can get them in trouble so he refused to talk to me the rest of the time). The Rheumatologist suspects it’s caused by my EDS. He said it will continue to get worse over time but should remain mild. It may cause back pain when I’m older but should never be so bad that it requires a brace or surgery.

It was a long day.

Mandana & I were both glad when the appointment ended and we could leave. She enjoyed her hospital adventure but it was a lot to ask of her. I wish I could say the rest of the day was better but unfortunately that’s not how any of this works. My heart rate continued to worsen which led to Hubbins & I getting into a spat. I’m usually the one who de-escalates conflict but you try telling that to someone with 180 bpm and a Malinois at their side! We don’t harbor a lot of ill-feelings between us so we got over it quickly and headed home. The drive was silent and felt like it lasted forever thanks to severe motion sickness & a traffic jam on the highway.

I’ll be feeling the effects of this day for a while thanks to MCAS. It wasn’t all bad but it’s a good example of why I don’t like scheduling appointments.

I did eventually ask Mandana what she thought about her day.

Her official opinion:

Hospital Adventure / Good

Stranger Friends / Good

Big Car Ride / Bad 😭😭😭

#belgian malinois #23 months #service dog in training #service dog training #medical alert service dog #medical alert #heart rate alert #positive reinforcement #public access training #public access #service dog milestone #dysautonomia #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #orthostatic hypotension #ehlers danlos syndrome #mast cell activation syndrome #gastroparesis #hospital #doctors appointment #talking dog #scoliosis

[ayamturd]

yourself│awesamdude

summary: love is precious, love is pure; how insecure thoughts and concerns trouble a scared lover, and how to convince one they are deserving of said love

warnings: descriptive insecure + self-deprecating thoughts, slight angst to fluff

pairing: in-game c!awesamdude

a/n: couldn’t stop thinking of this concept, i wouldn’t physically sleep till i wrote it all out lol

pls know you are loved, that you matter and are important. even if it doesn’t feel like, i’ll say now that i do, i love you. i don’t need to know you to know you deserve love, you deserve to know you are amazing for being yourself and for simply trying your best by existing for what it is <3

wc: (2.1k) - m.list

“Why do you love me?”

It was late. Very late. 

The sky was pitch black and the forest held nothing but a ringing silence to screen, the brief sounds of woodland creatures along with lurking monsters occasionally breaking through. While the night was alive by the stir of the wind, the world above was obscured beneath the depths of the newly discovered mineshaft.

You were tired, your body aching and sore from the continuous grind along side your lover for the past few hours now. Unbeknownst to you, the early morn had been replaced with the midnight sky, the twists of the cave’s darkness becoming so lost to your sensitive eyes. 

While you were resting on a large boulder, Sam’s stamina was relentless as he worked to mine into the next cave tunnel. He was beautiful, to say the least. 

The ever so flicker of nearby torches illuminated only the best of his features, his usual mask hanging low around his neck due to the cramped and tight spaces underground. His brows were furrowed, the gentle concentration that pulled onto his face strangely handsome to observe. 

His hair, the dark yet notable green shade, was seemingly drenched with sweat. In spite of how dreadful the thought could come across, it only did him wonders when weighing his locks down to frame his face. It curled around his eyes, the sage emerald-color contrasting his light skin tone while emphasizing the dark glisten of his squinted eyes. 

Through his intent and determined grunts with every swing of his blade against the course stone, his stance was firm and strong, each strike crumbling beneath him from pure strength and integrity. 

Moments like these were random, but reoccurring. Moments where you could stop to stare at him for hours on end, appreciate him for what he was and all that he did, yet question on why he was still here.

Why someone so talented and earnest in his work could even consider you as someone special, someone worth his attention and love to be with. 

You spoke before you could stop to process your words and what possible answer he could imagine. Your curiosity got the better of you, and your insecurity blinded your perception. It didn’t seem like he heard you initially, and as you began to take it as a sign to forget the question entirely, his diligent swings stopped and his heavy panting filled the air. 

He carelessly rested the large tool on top of his shoulders, twisting only his head in your direction while wiping the salty sting of raining sweat from his eyes. 

“Huh?”

“Why do you love me?” you asked again. 

Pushing yourself up, you glanced down while fiddling with your pickaxe, the old wrap around its handle fraying ever so lightly despite its lack of consistent use. You’d need to replace it soon. 

“I just- it’s hard sometimes, you know? To think why you’ve stayed with me for so long or why you even want to stay with me altogether.”

You suddenly lost all courage, and couldn’t dare look him straight in the eye from your admittance. There was an unfounded trust your relationship, no doubt, but trust can only go far when comparing yourself to others. This was a question of worth, of importance when believing one has nothing special to give to someone who deserves the world. 

“Love…”

Shaking your head, you turned away from him to face the arching gem wall, driving your pickaxe into the thick, shimmering stone with a slam before wrapping your arms around yourself. You bit the inner side of your check, loose and anxious thoughts raging wild to come through in the vulnerable space.

Your hands shook in unpredictable expectations, fingers twitching against your pounding chest.

“I know you’re going to dismiss it as some kind of nonsense, ‘insecurity’ thing and honestly, you wouldn’t be wrong. But I can’t help it when you’re you and I’m me.”

The pause that followed was unbearable. Steady breathes pervaded the tense air, and after what felt to be an entirety in harsh, prolonged silence, you heard the shuffles of his feet when cautiously approaching you from behind.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His tone was serious, yet his voice soft. Like he was cornering a scared and injured animal, he seemed mindful of his volume for your own concern. Another quality to consider: he was too kind than for what you rightfully earned.

There was so much to say, yet so little at the same time. You were at a loss for words on how to explain something so broad and conceptually troubling to see through. How does one explain how little they matter? How meaningless they are in the grand scheme of things to someone that only tries to see the best of them.

Someone that would refuse a truth for the sake of your troubled mentality.

“Well- you know…”

He stood directly behind you now, his radiating warmth encompassing your entire being, leaving you to shudder from the sharp contrast in the freezing underground. Hands hovering your rigid shoulders, he contemplated touching you but decided against it. He dropped his arms to his side with a sigh. 

“No, I don’t. What possible reasoning could you have for me not to love you?”

His pleading whisper was left unanswered, your body frozen to the guilt that consumed you from worrying him over your own problematic assumptions. As if he could read you, he began a different approach to break through to you. 

“Why do you love me?”

His unexpected question immediately caused you to go in defense. Spinning around, you glared up at him with resistant eyes, the response to trade your unsure gaze with ones that screamed in flipped concern for his own good. 

“Don’t do that.”

Sam’s own eyes remained just as hard, the unnatural line from his neutral expression pulling further to create an evident frown. He was just as serious as you.

“I’m serious here. What reasoning do you have to love me? A screw up, that does nothing but hurt others no matter how much I try in opposition to protect.”

Admittedly shaking your head, you unconsciously reached to grab the front of his chest plate, the enchanted armor glowing beneath your bare hands as you forcefully pushed him in disagreement. 

You knew what he was referencing to, and how hard the events became for him. No matter if Tommy would never forgive him, he had yet to forgive himself in any reasonable sense. 

“You know that’s not true. Mistakes are mistakes that can’t always be avoided or your fault.”

Tilting his head, Sam’s nose scrunched aggressively to your argument with a scowl.

“Can’t it?” 

While your face dropped from his jarring snap, he only sighed before bowing his head away, rubbing the back of his head with a tired exhale and dropped shoulders. It was his turn to struggle with his own words as you stared intensely for his explanation. 

His voice were soft again, and wavered slightly in the near beginning. 

“I’m not perfect, far from it actually. No matter how many times you try and reassure me of the fact, I’ll never truly believe anything there is good to say about me. I only see the worst of myself,” he murmured. Although a majority of his speech could have easily been missed from his airy quiet, your ears were strained and focused solely on him. 

As you tried to step closer to comfort him in some way or another, he finished his final thought then, causing you to freeze once more. 

“And when that negatively becomes too much, I look to you as my light.”

Sam sheepishly faced you, his bashful grin completely deviating from the conversation at hand.  An unexpected heat rushed to your face, causing you fall apart by the mere power behind his words. 

He gave an airy chuckle, closing his eyes with a gentle smile and opening to reveal such fragility in all he had to tell, eyes watering from the sight of you. 

“You give me more hope than I think I could ever deserve. From your shining smile to the smallest forms of affection, you give me a love irreplaceable by others and unconceivable to consider.” 

Biting your lip, your eyes also began to tear from the overly tender conceptions. He knew better than to let your thoughts run wild and interrupt him, so he continued before you could open your mouth in protest.

“I love you, for everything you’ve sacrificed and lost. You are my strength that pulls me through, inspires me to continue even on the hardest of days. You teach me to forgive myself and work through my hardships for a greater objective at play.” 

Steadily nearing your emotional state, Sam carefully pulled your hands into his own and caressed your knuckles with his callous thumbs. He squeezed them tightly once, before reaching a singular hand against your cheek, catching the fallen tears that escaped your adoring eyes.

“Even if you unintentionally did, you became that objective to pull me through it all.”

A sob escaped you, and Sam was quick to pull you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head earnestly while resuming to whisper his declaration against your hair.  

“I love you and all that you do. Everything that I said now, everything that I know how to express, it does nothing to how much you truly impact by merely existing as yourself.”

“Sam-” you had tried to interject, stop him from tearing you to complete bits as an over sentimental puddle, but he chose to speak over you instead. 

“I don’t love you simply because you’ve given so much to me, that you’ve went through notions with my sake as priority. I don’t care for any of that in all honesty. I love you, because you do all that you do as yourself.”

Shudder breathes caused you to shake beneath his firm hold, his only response to pull you inhumanely closer if possible. 

“It doesn’t matter why or what pushes you to do what you do, it’s the fact that you exist as yourself, that that beautiful heart of yours goes beyond any and all expectations anyone can conceive of you and never fails to the most of any situation to come.”

“You amaze me, y/n,” he hummed. Pulling you back, he raised a single finger below your chin to lift your face to his. He leaned a near breathes away, with an indescribable admiration that caused more tears to spill. 

“Why do I love you?” he re-asked.

His own tears coursed down his dirt stained skin, and you habitually moved to cup both of his cheeks. 

“Because you’re able to love me, and not even know the adverse effects you cause to those around you.”

Bringing your forehead to his, he kissed your scrunched nose as he released a small whimper, for he had nothing left to express through words. 

“If ever you question yourself again, ask yourself how are you able to love someone like me, and know that that same confounding thought shakes my very core and beats my love-stricken heart for you.”

Bonus:

Pathetic giggles bounced around the gem filled enclosure, the high of work finally wearing you both down into a helpless mess of two exhausted, yet stubborn lovers. 

You leaned heavily into Sam’s hold, his own stance faltering from the unexpected weight you gave in as he groaned from the fast movement. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready for some rest, wouldn’t you say?” 

Giving out incomprehensible whines smothered into the crook of his arm, you raised a lazy hand to give a subtle thumbs up. Sam laughed loudly, and took your silent gesture as an answer. 

“You ready to climb back to the surface then?”

Mellow wails spoke for themselves, and he shook his head in joking disbelief to how drained you easily became. 

With you still in his arms, he maneuvered around you to grab both of your pickaxes and gathered resources, them too heavy to physically carry for his next course of action. He pulled out his Enderchest and swiftly packed everything away. 

Once everything else was settled, he worked on the actual situation in hand; literally, it being you basically asleep on your feet against his balanced arms. 

“Here,” he spoke. Lifting from your waist, he placed you on top of an overgrown gem stone and steadied your footing before quickly turning. He gripped your thighs, and even in your tired state, you instinctively jumped onto his back. 

He sighed when adjusting you, before making the trek back up the stair incline.

“To think I choose to love you.” 

You yawned loudly, and to his surprise, comprehended his words enough to respond.

“Mmmm, that sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” Head propped between his neck, he glanced down at you with a smirk. 

“Maybe, but a problem I welcome nonetheless.”

#dream smp x you #dream smp x reader #awesamdude x reader #awesamdude x you #awesamdude x gn!reader #awesamdude imagine #awesamdude x reader fluff #mcyt x reader fluff #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dsmp x reader

[scripttorture]

You mention in posts how torture doesn’t make people obedient and usually makes them spiteful (which obviously makes sense), but isn’t it realistic for someone to comply out of fear rather than loyalty? Whether that was giving up information or obeying orders or something else entirely. I imagine it depends on the person, and they would probably still be willing to turn on their torturers if given the chance, but would it be possible for them to obey orders in hopes of avoiding more pain?

This is a much more nuanced and complicated topic then we’re taught to assume.

 When it comes to giving up information it’s pretty clear cut. No, torture can’t lead to accurate information for a lot of interconnected reasons. I have about six separate masterposts covering the reasons for this.

 One of those is the antagonism torture produces. Another is the memory problems torture causes. Another is the effect that the use of torture has on organisations and the chain of command. Another is the effect torture has on torturers.

 Torture drastically increases the chances of memory loss and it also increases the chances of inaccurate memories. So not only is a torture victim less likely to talk, they’re more likely to be wrong if they do talk.

 But the effects on victims aren’t the main reason torture doesn’t work as a way of getting information. You’re assuming that torturers have access to people who have information.

 The reality is that torture destroys an organisation’s ability to gather accurate information. Most information comes from volunteers: when torture comes into play less people volunteer information. This means that an organisation which tortures is more likely to be questioning someone who knows nothing. That person is then abused until they start making things up.

 Because there’s less access to volunteered information and because humans are very bad at telling when someone is lying, a lot of these made up stories are believed. And this then effects who else the organisation arrests and tortures. This creates a sort of spiral, with lies leading to more lies.

 Additionally the torturers themselves make things worse. There’s less quality research on them, but the research and anecdotal accounts create a pretty clear picture of their behaviour. They undermine the chain of command, they lose the skills the originally had as they turn to torture, they’re aggressive, incredibly competitive and they have a… fracturing effect on their organisation.

 Basically they’re incredibly difficult to work with and totally convinced of their own importance. And this effects their colleagues. It totally divides organisations. The worst case I’ve read about involved members of the same organisation killing each other over access to prisoners.

 That’s a short run through of the main factors. Torture, in the legally defined sense, means all of these factors are in play. Plus a few more I’ve omitted to keep this shorter.

 With all of that together you just can’t get accurate information.

 If you want longer posts I’ve made on the subject I suggest looking for the ‘torture doesn’t work’ tag and the ‘torture as interrogation’ tag. You can also read the masterposts. If you want a much more in depth look at why torture consistently fails as a way of getting information I recommend O’Mara’s Why Torture Doesn’t Work and Rejali’s Torture and Democracy.

 O’Mara is a neuroscientist and goes through the effects torture has on the brain in a way that’s accessible, explaining the damage torture causes and how that destroys the evidence torturers claim to be seeking. Rejali’s book is a breeze block but it’s really a must, it is the textbook on torture in a broad sense. He ties together information from across the globe creating a broader picture of what torture does, not just to victims but to societies.

 The question of compliance under threat and pain… is more complicated.

 People can be forced to do some things. That much is obvious from a brief glance at human history and things like slavery. But it’s important to listen to what people in these scenarios say.

 And my opinion, based on what I’ve read, is that what these people say doesn’t support the idea that humans will easily obey instructions when they’re hurt or threatened. I think instead these people are making hard headed, rational choices in absolutely awful situations. I think when we don’t have these experiences of torture or slavery, it’s easy to look at the surface of the situation and assume that pain alone assures obedience. I think that happens because it’s hard for use to understand the rationale when we don’t have that lived experience.

 Let me give some examples. So it probably goes without saying that slavery goes hand in hand with physical abuse. One of the major researchers on slavery, whose data I quote pretty regularly, assumes throughout his writings that pain is the deciding factor which ‘makes’ people obey.

 But he also describes a couple of very obvious consistent patterns in the ways slavers behave. Slavers almost universally do the following things as well as using physical abuse:

Separate enslaved people from their community

Bar enslaved people from other forms of support

Make enslaved people financially/materially reliant on the slavers

Tell enslaved people that going to the police/authorities will lead to the enslaved person being arrested

Try to convince enslaved people that they will be better off if they comply, usually by framing it as a debt to be worked off with promises of riches after a period of time

 Now here’s the thing: we know from studies on cults and studies on ICURE techniques that a lot of these strategies will result in obedience when there is no violence or physical abuse.

 Given that I don’t think we can assume that violence is the deciding factor. In fact I think the evidence we have from forced confessions under torture suggests the violence may lead to less obedience and a lower ‘success’ rate then a set up that used emotional abuse or other exploitative techniques without violence.

 We have two sources of historical data that are used for statistical studies on forced confessions. One is from historical France. We think that this data set only involved torture to force a confession; no other method of coercion just violence. The rate of forced confessions varied a little in different areas but over all it’s about 10%. The second data set is from the ‘London Cage’ a British prison during the second world war. Here we know that torture was combined with blackmail, bribery and other kinds of coercion. The rate of forced confessions there was about 30%.

 And while this is just two studies, while the data is lacking… That is one hell of a jump.

 Let’s circle back to ICURE. ICURE stands for Isolation, Control information, create Uncertainty, Repetition and Emotive responses. It’s a set of techniques which can, sometimes, change someone’s beliefs when it’s applied consistently over a long time.

 Notice the effort slavers put in to isolating their victims. Notice that the behaviour pattern I’m describing means the slavers are creating uncertainty over seeking help and repeating those messages as well as messages that the victims will be better off if they just go along with it.

 Slavers will generally also try to control the information their victims have access to, taking phones and blocking access to news sources and other resources. Now a lot of slavers will transport their victims to other states or countries putting a language barrier in place. They sometimes also use emotive responses in attempts to persuade victims to comply.

 I’ve read multiple accounts where survivors of modern slavery described slavers telling them that the money they were making was being sent to the victim’s family and without it the family would not survive. (Sometimes the slavers do send small amounts to the families of their victims, sometimes they pocket everything.) I’ve also read accounts where gangs of slavers used religion and oaths taken in a religious setting to persuade their victims they’d be punished by God for not complying.

 Even with all of this, all these techniques we know can sometimes ‘work’- lots of people refuse. Lots of people disobey. Lots of people escape. Lots of people actively sabotage the operations the slavers put together.

 And if you look at that same history of slavery, that shows us people can sometimes be forced to work, you’ll see that this has always been true.

 We have records of historic enslaved people attacking slavers, forming organised militias, forming parallel societies, sacking towns, taking over an entire Caribbean island and beating off four European armies in the process. We also have records of smaller acts. Sabotage, worship of banned deities, speaking banned languages, destruction of property, aiding in the escape of others.

 What I’m saying is: this isn’t black and white. The evidence, modern and historical does not paint a clear picture of violence leading to obedience.

 Instead I believe that it shows humans are resilient, stubborn, adaptable creatures. People can survive all kinds of horrible situations. It is more accurate, more human, to assume that people make rational choices.

 Sometimes those choices involve short term compliance while looking for a better option or a way out. But we tend to hear less stories about the people who completely refuse to comply. We tend to treat that as an impossible fiction when it is a recorded historical and modern reality.

 Bringing this back to writing as a general rule the more complicated the act the less likely you can force someone to do it. Because the more complicated it is the more opportunities they’ll have to sabotage it or use it against their abuser.

 I recommend reading up on the history of Haiti pet. Then Brazil via Palmares.

 I’ll end this by bringing it back to those statistics on forced confessions in historical France. Imagine the conditions with me for a moment. Unsanitary, cramped cells. Dehydration, starvation and disease. Plus the kinds of scarring torture that are conjured up in the minds of most Western people when the word ‘torture’ comes up; thumb screws, leg irons that tighten until the bone snaps, whips.

 Picture it. Try to imagine the pain those people went through.

 And remember that 90% of them did not comply long enough to sign their name.

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